Classic Poem

IN THEIR MOTHER-TONGUE .

Sin ' Merlin laid Auld Reikie's causey,
And made her o' his wark right saucy,
The spacious street and plainstanes
Were never kend to crack but anes,
Whilk happened on the hinder night,
Whan Fraser's uly tint its light;
O' highland sentries nane were waukin,
To hear their cronies glibly taukin;
For them this wonder might hae rotten,
And, like night robb'ry, been forgotten,
Had na a cadie, wi' his lanthron
Been gleg enough to hear them bant'rin,
Wha came to me neist morning early,
To gie me tidings o' this ferly.
 Ye taunting lowns, trow this nae joke,
For anes the ass of Balaam spoke,
Better than lawyers do, forsooth,
For it spake naething but the truth!
Whether they follow its example,
You'll ken best whan you hear the sample.
  Plainstanes . My friend, thirhunder years and mair
We've been forfoughen late and air,
In sunshine, and in weety weather,
Our thrawert lot we bure thegither.
I never growl'd, but was content
Whan ilk an had an equal stent,
But now to flyte I'se e'en be bauld,
Whan I'm wi' sic a grievance thrall'd.
How haps it, say, that mealy bakers,
Hair-kaimers, crieshy gizy-makers,
Shou'd a' get leave to waste their powders
Upo' my beaux and ladies shoulders?
My travellers are fley'd to deid
Wi' creels wanchancy, heap'd wi' bread,
Frae whilk hing down uncanny nicksticks,
That aften gie the maidens sic licks,
As mak them blythe to skreen their faces
Wi' hats and muckle maun bon-graces,
And cheat the lads that fain wad see
The glances o' a pauky eie,
Or gie their loves a wylie wink,
That erst might lend their hearts a clink!
Speak, was I made to dree the ladin
O' Gallic chairman heavy treadin,
Wha in my tender buke bore holes
Wi' waefu' tackets i' the soals
O' broggs, whilk on my body tramp,
And wound like death at ilka clamp?
  Causey . Weil crackit, friend—It aft hads true,
Wi' naething fock make maist ado:
Weel ken ye, tho' you doughtna'tell,
I pay the sairest kain my sell;
Owr me ilk day big waggons rumble,
And a' my fabric birze and jumble;
Owr me the muckle horses gallop,
Eneugh to rug my very saul up;
And coachmen never trow they're sinning,
While down the street their wheels are spinning.
Like thee, do I not bide the brunt
O' Highland chairman's heavy dunt?
Yet I hae never thought o' breathing
Complaint, or making din for naething.
  Plainstanes . Had sae, and let me get a word in,
Your back's best fitted for the burden;
And I can eithly tell you why,
Ye're doughtier by far than I;
For whin-stanes howkit frae the craigs,
May thole the prancing feet o' naigs,
Nor ever fear uncanny hotches
Frae clumsy carts or hackney coaches,
While I, a weak an' feckless creature,
Am moulded by a safter nature.
Wi' mason's chissel dighted neat,
To gar me look baith clean and feat,
I scarce can bear a sairer thump
Than come frae sole o' shoe or pump,
I grant, indeed, that now and than,
Yield to a patten's pith I maun;
But pattens, tho' they're aften plenty,
Are ay laid down wi' feet fu' tenty,
And strokes frae ladies though they're teazing,
I freely maun avow are pleasing.
 For what use was I made, I wonder?
It was na tamely to chap under
The weight o' ilka codroch chiel,
That does my skin to targets peel;
But gin I guess aright my trade is
To fend frae skaith the bonny ladies,
To keep the bairnies free frae harms
Whan airing i' their nurses arms,
To be a safe an' canny bield
For growing youth or drooping eild.
 Tak then frae me the heavy load
O' burden-bearers heavy shod,
Or, by my troth, the gude auld town sall
Hae this affair before the council.
  Causey . I dinna care a single jot,
Tho' summon'd by a shelly-coat;
Sae leally I'll propone defences,
As get ye flung for my expences;
Your libel I'll impugn verbatim ,
And hae a magnum damnum datum;
For tho' frae Arthur's Seat I sprang,
And am in constitution strang,
Wad it na fret the hardest stane
Beneath the Luckenbooths to grane?
Tho' magistrates the cross discard,
It makes na whan they leave the guard!
A lumbersome and stinkin bigging,
That rides the sairest on my rigging.
Poor me owr meikle do ye blame,
For tradesmen tramping on your wame,
Yet a' your advocates and braw fock,
Come still to me 'twixt ane and twa 'clock,
And never yet were kent to range
At Charlie's statue or Exchange.
Then tak your beaux and macaronies,
Gie me trades-fock and country Johnies;
The de'ilSin't gin ye dinna sign
Your sentiments conjunct wi' mine.
  Plainstanes . Gin we twa cou'd be as auld-farrant,
As gar the council gie a warrant,
Ilk lown rebellious to tak,
Wha walks not i' the proper track,
And o' three shillings Scottish souk him,
Or in the water-hole sair douk him,
This might assist the poor's collection,
And gie baith parties satisfaction.
  Causey . But first, I think it will be good
To bring it to the Robinhood,
Whare we sall hae the question stated,
And keen and crabitly debated,
Whether the provost and the bailies,
For the town's gude whase daily toil is,
Shou'd listen to our joint petitions,
And see obtemper'd the conditions.
  Plainstanes . Content am I—But east the gate is
The Sun, wha taks his leave o' Thetis,
And come's to waken honest fock,
That gang to wark at sax o'clock;
It sets us to be dumb a while,
And let our words gie place to toil.