Classic Poem

BARD .

The supper sowin-cogs and bannocks
Stood cooling on the sole o' winnocks,
And, cracking at the westlin gavels,
The wives sat beeking o' their navels,
When Jouk his brither Bristle found,
Fetching his ev'ning wauk around
A score o' ploughmen o' his ain,
Wha blythly whistled on the plain.
Jouk three times congee'd, Bristle anes,
Then shook his hand, and thus begins:

BRISTLE .

Wow! brither Jouk, where ha'e ye been?
I scarce can trow my looking een,
Ye 're grown sae braw: now weirds defend me!
Gin that I had nae maist miskend ye.
And where gat ye that braw blue stringing,
That 's at your houghs and shuthers hinging?
Ye look as sprush as ane that 's wooing;
I ferly, lad, what ye 've been doing.

JOUKUM .

My very much respected brither,
Should we hide ought frae ane anither,
And not, when warm'd wi' the same blood,
Consult ilk ane anither's good?
And be it ken'd t' ye, my design
Will profit prove to me and mine.

BRISTLE .

And, brither, troth it much commends
Your virtue, thus to love your friends;
It makes me blyth, for aft I said,
Ye were a clever mettl'd lad.

JOUKUM .

And sae, I hope, will ever prove,
Gif ye befriend me in my love:
For Rosie, bonny, rich, and gay,
And sweet as flow'rs in June or May,
Her gear I 'll get, her sweets I 'll rifle,
Gif ye 'll but yield me up a trifle;
Promise to do 't, and ye'se be free
Wi' ony thing pertains to me.

BRISTLE .

I lang to answer your demand,
And never shall for trifles stand.

JOUKUM .

Then she desires, as a propine,
These bonnets, Bawsy's, your's, and mine;
And well I wat that 's nae great matter,
Gif I sae easily can geTher.

BRISTLE .

Ha, ha! ye Judas, are ye there?
The d — then nor she ne'er get mair.
Is that the trifle that ye spoke o'?
Wha think ye, Sir, ye mak' a mock o'?
Ye silly mansworn, scant o' grace!
Swith let me never see your face.
Seek my auld bonnet aff my head!
Faith that 's a bonny ane indeed!
Require a thing I 'll part wi' never!
She 's get as soon a lap o' my liver:
Vile whore and jade! the woody hang her.

BARD .

Thus said, he said nae mair for anger,
But curs'd and ban'd, and was nae far
Frae treading Jouk amang the glar.
While Jouk, wi' language glibe as oolie,
Right pawkily kept aff a toolie.
Weil masked wi' a wedder's skin,
Although he was a tod within,
He hum'd and ha'd, and wi' a cant,
Held forth as he had been a saint,
And quoted texts to prove we 'd better
Part wi' a sma' thing for a greater.

JOUKUM .

Ah! brither, may the furies rack me
Gif I mean ill! but ye mistak' me:
But gin your bonnet 's sic a jewel,
Pray gi'e 't or keep 't, Sir, as you will;
Since your auld-fashion'd fancy rather
Inclines till 't than a hat and feather:
But I 'll go try my brither Bawsy,
Poor man, he 's nae sae dast and sawcy,
Wi' empty pride to crook his mou',
And hinder his ain gude, like you.
Gif he and I agree, ne'er doubt ye,
We 'll mak' the bargain up without ye;
Syne your braw bonnet and your noddle
Will hardly baith be worth a bodle.

BARD .

At this bauld Bristle's colour chang'd,
He swore on Rose to be reveng'd;
For he began now to be flied,
She 'd wile the honours frae his head;
Syne wi' a stern and canker'd look,
He thus reprov'd his brither Jouk.

BRISTLE .

Thou vile disgrace o' our forbeairs!
Wha lang wi' valiant dint o' weirs,
Maintain'd their right 'gainst a' intrusions
O' our auld faes the Rosycrucians,
Dost thou design at last to catch
Us in a girn wi' this base match,
And for the hauding up thy pride,
Upo' thy brithers' riggins ride?
I 'll see you hang'd, and her thegither,
As high as Haman, in a tether,
Ere I wi' my ain bonnet quat,
For ony borrow'd beaver hat,
Whilk I, as Rosie taks the fykes,
Man wear or no just as she likes.
Then let me hear nae mair abouTher,
For if ye dare again to mutter
Sic vile proposals in my hearing,
Ye needna trust to my forbearing;
For soon my beard will tak' a low,
And I shall crack your crazy pow.

BARD .

This said, brave Bristle said nae mair,
But cock'd his bonnet wi' an air,
Wheel'd round wi' gloomy brows and muddy,
And left his brither in a study.