Waesuck for him wha has nae feck o't! Till his four quarters are bedeckit On Sabbath-days the barber spark, Or to the Meadows,* or the Park,† Weel might ye trow, to see them there, Would be right laith, If ony mettled stirrah grien His body in a scabbard clean For, gin he come wi' coat thread-bare, But crook her bonny mou fu' sair, Wooers should aye their travels spare, * A promenade to the south of Edinburgh. + The King's Park-another promenade. Braid claith lends fouk an unco heeze; In short, you may be what you please, For tho' ye had as wise a snout on, Till they could see ye wi' a suit on ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF SCOTS MUSIC. Mark it, Cæsario! it is old and plain, The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it.-Shakspeare's Twelfth Night. ON Scotia's plains, in days of yore, When lads and lasses tartan wore, Saft Music rang on ilka shore, But Harmony is now no more, Round her the feather'd choir would wing; Sae bonnily she wont to sing, And sleely wake the sleepin' string, Their sang to lead, Sweet as the zephyrs o' the Spring; Mourn, ilka nymph, and ilka swain, Let weepin' streams and naiads drain Let echo swell the dolefu' strain, When the saft vernal breezes ca' On chaunter, or on aiten straw, Nae lasses now, on simmer days, Delight to chaunt their hamely lays, At gloamin' now, the bagpipe's dumb, We never hear its warlike hum; * Macgibbon's gane! ah! waes my heart! Wi' sic a slee and pawky art; But now he's dead. * William Macgibbon was for many years leader of the orchestra of the Gentlemen's Concert at Edinburgh, and was thought to play the music of Correlli, Geminiani, and Handel, with great execution and judgment. His sets of Scotch tunes, with variations and basses, are well known. He composed a set of sonatas or trios for two violins and a bass, which were esteemed good.- William Tytler, in the Transactions of the Scottish Society of Antiquaries, vol. i. He died in 1756. Ilk carlin' now may grunt and grane, The blythest sangster on the plain! Now foreign sonnets bear the gree, O' sounds fresh sprung frae Italy; Unlike that saft-tongued melody, Could lav'rocks, at the dawnin' day, Compare wi'"Birks o' Indermay"? O Scotland! that could ance afford And fight till Music be restored, HALLOWFAIR.* AT Hallowmas, when nights grow lang, *A market held in November in the outskirts of Edinburgh. Near Edinburgh a fair there hauds, Upon the tap o' ilka lum The sun began to keek, And bade the trig-made maidens come At Hallowfair, where browsters rare Here country John, in bonnet blue, She'll tauntin' say, Ye silly coof! Be o' yer gab mair sparin':" He'll tak' the hint, and creish her loof Here chapman billies tak their stand, Wow! but they lie fu' gleg aff hand To trick the silly fallows: Heh, sirs! what cairds and tinklers come, To thrive that day! Here Sawny cries, frae Aberdeen, Come ye to me fa need; The brawest shanks that e'er were seen I'll sell ye cheap and guid: |