But gin ye be a brig as auld as me
Tho' faith, that date,1 I doubt, ye'll never see-
There'll be, if that day come, I'll wad a boddle,"
Some fewer whigmaleeries in your noddle.'
'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,2
Your ruin'd, formless bulk o' stane and lime,
Compare wi' bonie brigs o' modern time?
There's men of taste wou'd tak the Ducat stream,8
Tho' they should cast the very sarkd and swim,
E'er they would grate their feelings wi' the view
O' sic an ugly, Gothic hulk as you.'
'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;
When from the hills where springs the brawling Coil,
Or stately Lugar's mossy fountains boil;
Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course.
Or haunted Garpal draws his feeble source,
Aroused by blustering winds an' spotting thowes,h
In mony a torrent down the snaw-broo rowes ;1
a small coin (2 pennies Scots).
b crotchets.
8 worn out.
1 Date and day were transposed in the edition of 1794.
2 These two lines are wanting in the MS., and the next begins :
"Will your auld, formless, &c." A noted ford, just above the Auld Brig.-R.B.
⚫ manners. d shirt.
• idiot.
I melted snow-rolls.
4 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.R.B.
While crashing ice, borne on the rolling spate,"
Sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate;
And from Glenbuck,' down to the Ratton-key,2
Auld Ayr is just one lengthen'd, tumbling sea-
Then down ye'll hurl, (deil nor ye never rise!)
And dash the gumlie jaups up to the pouring skies!
A lesson sadly teaching, to your cost,
That Architecture's noble art is lost!'s
'Fine architecture, trowth, I needs must say't o't,
The Ld be thankit that we've tintd 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 sculptures drest,
With order, symmetry, or taste unblest;
Forms like some bedlam Statuary's dream,
The craz'd creations of misguided whim;
Forms might be worshipp'd on the bended knee,
And still the second dread command be free;
Their likeness is not found on earth, in air, or sea!
Mansions that would disgrace the building taste
Of any mason reptile, bird or beast:
Fit only for a doited' monkish race,
Or frosty maids forsworn the dear embrace,
Or cuifs of later times, wha held the notion,
That sullen gloom was sterling true devotion:
Fancies that our guid Brugh denies protection,
And soon may they expire, unblest wi' resurrection!
'O ye, my dear-remember'd, ancient yealings,h
Were ye but here to share my wounded feelings!
1 The source of the River Ayr.-R.B. 2 A small landing place above the large quay.-R.B.
Ye worthy Proveses, an' mony a Bailie,
Wha in the paths o' righteousness did toil aye;
Ye dainty Deacons, and ye douce Conveners,
To whom our moderns are but causey-cleaners;
Ye godly Councils, wha hae blest this town;
Ye godly Brethren o' the sacred gown,
Wha meekly gie your hurdies" to the smiters;
And (what would now be strange), ye godly Writers ;
A' ye douce folk I've borne aboon the broo,d
Were ye but here, what would ye say or do?
How would your spirits groan in deep vexation,
To see each melancholy alteration;
And, agonising, curse the time and place
When ye begat the base degenerate race!1
Nae langer rev'rend men, their country's glory,
In plain braid Scots hold forth a plain braid story;
Nae langer thrifty citizens, an' douce,
Meet owre a pint, or in the Council-house;
But staumrel, corky-headed, graceless Gentry,
The herryment' and ruin of the country;
Men, three-parts made by tailors and by barbers,
Wha waste your weel-hain'd gears on d-'d new brigs and harbours!'
'Now haud you there! for faith ye've said enough,
And muckle mair than ye can mak to through.ha
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 hae 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; 1
Men wha grew wise priggin owre hops and raisins,
Or gather'd lib'ral views in Bonds and Seisins :
If haply Knowledge, on a random tramp,
Had shor'd them with a glimmer of his lamp,
And would to Common-sense for once betray'd them,
Plain, dull Stupidity stept kindly in to aid them.'
What farther clish-ma-clavere might been said,
What bloody wars, if Sprites had blood to shed,
No man can tell; but, all before their sight,
A fairy train appear'd in order bright;
Adown the glittering stream they featly danc'd;
Bright to the moon their various dresses glanc'd:
They footed o'er the wat'ry glass so neat,
The infant ice scarce bent beneath their feet:
While arts of Minstrelsy among them rung,
And soul-ennobling Bards heroic ditties sung.
O had M'Lauchlan,2 thairmd-inspiring sage,
Been there to hear this heavenly band engage,
When thro' his dear strathspeys they bore with Highland
rage;
Or when they struck old Scotia's melting airs,
The lover's raptured joys or bleeding cares;
How would his Highland luge been nobler fir'd,
And ev'n his matchless hand with finer touch inspir'd!
No guess could tell what instrument appear'd,
But all the soul of Music's self was heard;
Harmonious concert rung in every part,
While simple melody pour'd moving on the heart.
1 For this couplet six lines appear in the MS.
"Nae mair down street the council quorum waddles,
With wigs like mainsails on their logger noddles,
Nae difference but bulkiest or tallest,
c idle talk.
With comfortable dullness in for
ballast;
Nor shoals nor currents need a pilot's caution,
For regularly slow they only witness motion.'
2 A well-known performer of Scottish music on the violin.-R. B.
The Genius of the Stream in front appears,
A venerable Chief advanc'd in years;
His hoary head with water-lilies crown'd,
His manly leg with garter-tangle bound.
Next came the loveliest pair in all the ring,
Sweet female Beauty hand in hand with Spring;
Then, crown'd with flow'ry hay, came Rural Joy,
And Summer, with his fervid-beaming eye;
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,
Led yellow Autumn wreath'd with nodding corn;
Then Winter's time-bleach'd locks did hoary show,
By Hospitality with cloudless brow:
Next followed Courage with his martial stride,
From where the Feal wild-woody coverts hide;1
Benevolence, with mild, benignant air,
A female form, came from the tow'rs of Stair; 2
Learning and Worth in equal measures trode,
From simple Catrine, their long-lov'd abode : 3
Last, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazel wreath,
To rustic Agriculture did bequeath
The broken, iron instruments of death:
At sight of whom our Sprites forgat their kindling wrath.
Fragment of Song.*
THE night was still, and o'er the hill
The moon shone on the castle wa';
The mavis sang, while dew-drops hang
Around her on the castle wa';
Sae merrily they danced the ring
Frae eenin' till the cock did craw;
And aye the o'erword o' the spring
Was Irvine's bairns are bonie a'.'
1A compliment to the Montgomeries of Coilsfield, which is situated on the Feal or Faile, a tributary of the Ayr.
A compliment to Mrs Stewart of Stair, an early patroness of the poet.
A compliment to Professor Dugald
Stewart of Catrine House, where a little later Burns first 'dinner'd wi' a lord.'
4 Irvine, here, is the River. The lines were probably written at the Rev. Dr Lawrie's in Newmilns.
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