But gin ye be a brig as auld as me, Tho' faith, that day I doubt ye'll never see; NEW BRIG. Auld Vandal, ye but show your little mense, Just much about it wi' your scanty sense; Will your poor, narrow foot-path of a street, Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet— Compare wi' bonnie Brigs o' modern time? * AULD BRIG. Conceited gowk! puff'd up wi' windy pride!This mony a year I've stood the flood an' tide; And tho' wi' crazy eild I'm sair forfairn, I'll be a Brig, when ye're a shapeless cairn! As yet ye little ken about the matter, But twa-three winters will inform ye better. When heavy, dark, continued a'-day rains, Wi' deepening deluges o'erflow the plains; A noted ford, just above the Auld Brig. When from the hills where springs the brawling Coil, Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course, NEW BRIG, Fine Architecture, trowth, I needs must say't o't! The L-d be thankit that we've tint the gate o't! Gaunt, ghastly, ghaist-alluring edifices, Hanging with threat'ning jut like precipices; O'er-arching, mouldy, gloom-inspiring coves, Supporting roofs fantastic, stony groves : Windows, and doors in nameless sculpture drest, With order, symmetry, or taste unblest; * The banks of Garpal Water is one of the few places in the West of Scotland, where those fancy-scaring beings, known by the name of Ghaists, still continue pertinaciously to inhabit. + The source of the river Ayr. ‡ A small landing-place above the large key. Forms like some bedlam Statuary's dream, Their likeness is not found on earth, in air, or sea. Fit only for a doited monkish race, Or frosty maids forsworn the dear embrace; AULD BRIG. O ye, my dear-remember'd ancient yealings, Wha meekly gie your hurdies to the smiters; How would your spirits groan in deep vexation, And agonizing, curse the time and place Meet owre a pint, or in the council-house; Men, three parts made by tailors and by barbers, Wha waste your weel-hain'd gear on d-d new Brigs and Harbours! NEW BRIG. Now haud you there! for faith ye've said enough, And muckle mair than ye can mak to through, As for your Priesthood, I shall say but little, Corbies and Clergy are a shot right kittle: But, under favour o' your langer beard, Abuse o' Magistrates might weel be spar'd: To liken them to your auld-warld squad, I must needs say, comparisons are odd. In Ayr, wag-wits nae mair can have a handle To mouth' a citizen,' a term o' scandal ; Nae mair the Council waddles down the street, In all the pomp of ignorant conceit; Men wha grew wise priggin' owre hops an' raisins, Or gather'd lib'ral views in bonds and seisins, What farther clishmaclaver might been said, Adown the glitt'ring stream they featly danc'd; The infant ice scarce bent beneath their feet: Or when they struck old Scotia's melting airs, * A well known performer of Scottish music on the violin. |