I. Auld chuckie Reekie's* sair distrest, Down droops her ance wee'l burnish't crest, Nae joy her bonie buskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she loe's best Willie's awa! II. O Willie was a witty wight, And had o' things an unco' slight; And trig an' braw: But now they'll busk her like a fright, Willie's awa! III. The stiffest o' them a' he bow'd, The bauldest o' them a' he cow'd; That was a law: We've lost a birkie weel worth gowd, IV. Willie's awa! Now gawkies, tawpies, gowks and fools, In glen or shaw; He wha could brush them down to mools, Willie's awa! * Edinburgh. V. The V. The breth'ren o' the Commerce-Chaumer* Amang them a'; I fear they'll now mak mony a stammer, VI. Willie's awa! Nae mair we see his levee door In bloody raw! The adjutant o' a' the core, Willie's awa! VII. Now worthy G*****y's latin face, As Rome ne'er saw; They a' maun meet some ither place, Willie's awa! Poor *The Chamber of Commerce of Edinburgh, of which Mr. C. was Secretary. + Many literary gentlemen were accustomed to meet at Mr. C's house at breakfast. Burns often met with them there, when he called, and hence the name of Levee. VIII. Poor Burns-e'en Scotch drink canna quicken, He cheeps like some bewildered chicken, Scar'd frae it's minnie and the cleckin By hoodie-craw; Grief's gien his heart an unco kickin', IX. Willie's awa! Now ev'ry sour-mou'd girnin' blellum, His quill may draw; He wha could brawlie ward their bellum, Willie's awa! X. Up wimpling stately Tweed I've sped, While tempests blaw; But every joy and pleasure's fled, Willie's awa! XI. May I be slander's common speech; And lastly, streekit out to bleach In winter snaw; When I forget thee! WILLIE CREECH, Tho' far awa! XII. May XII. May never wicked fortune touzle him! He canty claw! Then to the blessed, New Jerusalem, Fleet wing awa! No. XV. To MR. W. NICOL, MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, EDINBURGH. Carlisle, June 1, 1787. KIND, HONEST-HEARTED WILLIE, I'm sitten down here, after seven and forty miles ridin, e'en as forjesket and forniaw'd as a forfoughten cock, to gie you some notion o' my land lowper-like stravaguin sin the sorrowfu' hour that I sheuk hands and parted wi’ auld Reekie. My auld, ga'd gleyde o' a meere has huchyall'd up hill and down brae, in Scotland and England, as teugh and birnie as a vera devil wi' me.* It's true, she's as poor's a sang-maker and as *This mare was the Poet's favourite JENNY GEDDES, of whom honourable and most humorous mention is made in a letter, inserted in Dr. Currie's edition, vol. í. p. 165. as hard's a kirk, and tipper-taipers when she taks the gate, first like a lady's gentlewoman in a minuwae, or a hen on a het girdle, but she's a yauld, poutherie Girran for a' that, and has a stomack like Willie Stalker's meere that wad hae disgeested tumbler-wheels, for she'll whip me aff her five stimparts o' the best aits at a down-sittin and ne'er fash her thumb. When ance her ringbanes and spavies, her crucks and cramps, are fairly soupl'd, she beets to, beets to, and ay the hindmost hour the tightest. I could wager her price to a thretty pennies, that for twa or three wooks ridin at fifty mile a day, the deilsticket a five gallopers acqueesh Clyde and Whithorn could cast saut on her tail. I hae This old and faithful servant of the Poet's was named by him, after the old woman, who in her zeal against religious innovation, threw a stool at the Dean of Edinburgh's head, when he attempted in 1637, to introduce the Scottish Liturgy. "On Sunday, the twenty-third of July, the Dean of Edinburgh prepared to officiate in St. Giles's. The congregation continued quiet till the service began, when an old woman, impelled by sudden indignation, started up, and exclaiming aloud, Villain! dost thou say the Mass at my lug?' threw the stool on which she had been sitting, at the Dean's head. A wild uproar commenced that instant. The Service was interrupted. The woman invaded the desk with execrations and outcries, and the Dean disengaged himself from his surplice to escape from their hands." -Laing's Hist. of Scotland, vol. iii. p. 122. E. |