But neither darts nor arrows, here,
Venus nor Cupid, shall appear;
Although with these fine sounds, I swear,
The maidens are delighted.
I was aye telling you,
Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy,
Auld springs wad ding the new,
But ye wad never trow me.
Nor snaw with crimson will I mix,
To spread upon my lassie's cheeks;
And syne the unmeaning name prefix,
Miranda, Cloe, Phillis;
I'll fetch nae simile frae Jove,
My height of ecstacy to prove,
Nor sighing—thus—present my love
With roses eke and lilies.
But, stay—I had amaist forgot
My mistress, and my sang to boot,
And that's an unco faut, I wot;
But, Nancy, 'tis nae matter:
Ye see I clink my verse wi' rhyme,
And ken ye that atones the crime;
Forbye, how sweet my numbers chime,
And glide away like water!
Now ken, my reverend sonsy fair,
Thy runkled cheeks, and lyart hair,
Thy half-shut een, and hoddling air,
Are a' my passion's fuel;
Nae skyring gowk, my dear, can see,
Or love, or grace, or heaven in thee;
Yet thou hast charms enew for me;
Then smile, and be na cruel.
Leeze me on thy snawy pow,
Lucky Nancy, Lucky Nancy;
Dryest wood will eithest low,
And, Nancy, sae will ye now.
Troth, I have sung the sang to you,
Which ne'er anither bard wad do;
Hear, then, my charitable vow,
Dear venerable Nancy:
But, if the world my passion wrang,
And say ye only live in sang,
Ken, I despise a slandering tongue,
And sing to please my fancy
Leeze me on, &c.
Symon Brodie.
[This old ditty, to its own tune, appeared in Herd's collection, 1776.]
Symon Brodie had a cow:
The cow was lost, and he couldna find her:
When he had done what man could do,
The cow cam' hame, and her tail behind her.
Honest auld Simon Brodie,
Stupid auld doitit bodie!
I'll awa' to the north countrie,
And see my ain dear Symon Brodie.
Symon Brodie had a wife,
And, wow! but she was braw and bonnie.
She took the dish-clout aff the bulk,
And preen'd it to her cockernonie.
Honest auld Symon Brodie, &c.
The Blythsome Bridal.
[This piece of satiric humour was first published in Watson's collection of Scottish poems, 1706, and its authorship has generally been ascribed to Francis Semple, Esq. of Beltrees, in Renfrewshire, who lived about the middle of the 17th century. Of late years, however, it has been claimed as the composition of Sir William Scott of Thirlestane, in Selkirkshire, ancestor of the present lord Napier. His claim is only supported on the faith of an unbroken tradition in the Napier family. Sir William was married in 1699 to Elizabeth, mistress of Napier, and died in 1725. Two years after his death, a collection of his Latin poems was printed at Edinburgh.]
Fy let us a' to the bridal,
For ther'll be liltin' there;
For Jocks to be married to Maggie,
The lass wi' the gowden hair.
And there'll be langkale and pottage,
And bannocks o' barley meal;
And there'll be good saut herrin',
To relish a cogue o' gude yill.
Fy let us a', &c.
