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What ye be seeking, or what fuish1 here."
"I mind to hear of Flaviana's Braes : Fan' I was young, upo' the nourice' knee,
The grip detain'd her, and she cud na My mammy used to sing a sang to me
Wrang unforsain'd,3 and that we never bought;
Rank Kettrin were they that did us the ill, They toom'd 4 our braes that swarming store did fill :
And mair than that, I reed our herds are ta'en,
And it's sair borne o' me that they are slain :
'Tis nae a' hopeless that in peril lies; Tak ye gueed heartning,6 and lay down your fears,
Come to this strype 7 and wash awa your tears;
Ise mak you right enough." The kindly
To gang and wash, wi' Nory did prevail.
For they great docker 5 made, and tulyied Gin he afore was o'er the lugs in love,
Ere they wad yield and let the cattle gang."
And pinked o'er her chin upon her keek.
Out o'er the head he now was, and above.
Then sat she down aneth a birken shade, That spread aboon her, and hang o'er her head,
Couthy and warm, and gowany the green, And them pay deep and dear, that had Had it, instead of night, the day-time been;
All things appear'd upon the dead of night:
And dunt for dunt her heart began to beat;
As she hauf-sleeping, and hauf-waking lay,
An unco din she hears of fouk and play. The sough they made gar'd her lift up her eyn,
Another said, Oh, gin she had but milk, Then should she gae frae heed to foot in silk,
With castings' rare, and a gueed nouricefee,
To nurse the King of Elfin's heir, Fizzee. Syne ere she wist, like house aboon her head,
Great candles burning, and braw tables
Braw dishes reeking, and just at her hand,
And, oh, the gathering that was on the To cut they fa', and she among the lave; 3
Of little foukies, clad in green and blue!
Whiles in the yerd,4 and whiles up in the
The pipers play'd like ony touting horn,
Aboon her head, as nimble as the bees,
The sight was bonny, and her mou' did
The mair she ate, the mair her hunger
Eat what she like, and she could ne'er be
The knible4 Elves about her ate ding-dang,
Drink in braw cups was caw'd about gelore;5
Fear's like to fell her, reed that they Whan in a riddle ye sail'd o'er the sea?
Tam got the wyte, and I gae the tehee!
Another said, I couped+ Mungo's ale, Clean heels o'er head, fan it was ripe and stale,
Just when the tapster the first chapin5 drew; Then bad her lick the pale, and aff I flew. Had ye but seen how blate the lassie looked,
Whan she was blam'd, how she the drink miscooked.
Saysa gnib? elf, As an auld carle was sitting Among his bags, and loosing ilka knitting, To air his rousty coin, I loot a claught, And took a hundred dollars at a fraught. Whan with the sight the carle had pleas'd himsell,
Then he began the glancing heap to tell; As soon's he miss'd it, he rampag'd redwood, 9
And lap and danc'd, and was in unco mood;
Ran out and in, and up and down; at
His reeling eyn upon a raip he cast,
Knit till a bauk, 10 that had hung up a cow: He taks the hint, and there hings he, I
As she's behadding" ilka thing that past, With a loud crack the house fell down at
Did sic a mishap or mishanter befa' me;
The reemish 12 put a knell unto her heart, But ye shall hae leave baith to hang me
I hae keeped my house for these three- Let them seek out a lyth' in the heat of the
And there venture on the beginning o't. But to do as I did, alas and awow ! To busk 2 up a rock at the cheek o' the low, Says, that I had but little wit in my pow, And as little ado wi' the spinning o't.
But yet, after a', there is ae thing that grieves
My heart to think o' the beginning o't; Had I won the length but of ae pair o' sleeves,
Then there had been word o'the spinning o't.
This I wad hae washen an' bleach'd like the snaw,
And on my twa gardies like moggans 3 wad draw,
And then fouk wad say, that auld Girzy was braw,
And a' was upon her ain spinning o't.
But gin I could shog4 about till a new spring,
I should yet hae a bout 5 of the spinning o't;
But gin my new rock war anes cutted and And then frae our fingers to gnidge aff1 the
I'll all Maggy's cann an' her cantrips' defy, And, but ony sussie, the spinning I'll try, An' ye shall a' hear o' the beginning o't.
Quo' Tibby, her dother, tak tent fat3 ye say, The never a rag we'll be seeking o't ; Gin ye anes begin, ye'll tarveal's4 night an' day,
Sae 'tis vain ony mair to be speaking o't. Since Lammas, I'm now gain' thirty an' twa,
And never a dud sark had I yet great or sma',
And what waur am I? I'm as warm an' as braw,
With the wearisome wark o' the rubbing o't.
And syne ilka tait2 maun be heckled outthrow,
The lint putten ae gate, anither the tow, Syne on on a rock wi't, and it taks a low,
The back o' my hand 3 to the spinning o't.
Quo' Jenny, I think, 'oman, ye're in the right,
Set your feet ay a spar to the spinning o't; Let's tak an example by our ain mither's fright,
That she got, when she try'd the beginning o't.
But they'll say, that auld fouk are twice bairns indeed,
As thrummy-tail'd 5 Meg, that's the And sae she has kyth'd it ; 4 but there is nae spinner o't.
To labour the lint land, and then buy the seed,
And then to yoke me to the harrowing
To siccan an amshach 5 that we drive our head,
As lang's we're sae skair'd frae the spinning o't.
And syne loll amon't and pick out ilka Quo' Nanny, the youngest, I've now heard weed,
Like swine in a stye at the farrowing o't; Syne powing an' ripling, and steeping, and
To gar's gae and spread it upon the cauld plain,
And then, after a', may be labour in vain, When the wind and the weet gets the fushion" o't.
But though it should anter7 the weather to bide,
With beetles we're set to the drubbing
An' dowie's your doom of the spinning o't.
Gin ye, when the cow flings, the cog7 cast awa',
Ye'll see where ye'll lick up your winning o't;
But I see that, but spinning, I'll never be braw,
But gae by the name of a dilp9 or a daw, Sae, lack where ye like, I sall anes shak a fa',
Afore I be dung 10 wi' the spinning o't.