BALLAD LXXXIV. Gobblestone Parish. BY A LADY. TUNE," Come under my plaidie.” WE'VE hed sec a durdum at Gobbleston parish, For twouty lang years, there's nit been sec a fair; We'd slack reape, and teght reape, and dogs that wer dancin, Wi' leytle roun hats on, to gar the fwok stare: A leytle black messet danc'd sae leyke auld Jenny, I thought it wad niver run out o' my head; It was last thing at neet, and the furst i' the mworn ing, And I rwoar'd leyke a feuil as I laid i' my bed. And we had stage playin, and actors frae Lunnon, At hed sec a canny and bonny leyke say; I forgat the black messet, and gowl'd leyke a ninny, Tho' I said to mysel," Wey, it's nobbet a play !" But aw that was naething, for monie wer blinded, Aud Jemmy, that brags aw the town for a feght, He twistet and twirlt-it was just for an off-put, But aw wadn't dui, for he gowl'd hawf the neet. And Betty Mac Nippen, and five of her dowters, As feyne as May garlans, were clwose at my back; I was flayt they wad hinder fwok hear aw the speech ing, But they gowl'd see a gud'n, that nin o' them spak : And Betty hes heard frae her sister in Lunnon, And she's sent the bairns sec a mwort o' feyne things, That if Betty Mac Nippen wad mek tem stage players, She cud fit tem out, ay leyke queens or leyke kings. Then down-the-brow Wully tuik up his cwoat lappet, But I had it frae yen that was even fornenst him, BALLAD LXXXV. The Peet-cadger's Lament. TUNE,-"Hey tutty tatty." Or, "BURNS's Fareweel to JEAN." MY bonny black meer's deed! The thought's e'en leyke to turn my head! She was bworn when Jwohn was bworn, When young, just leyke a deil she ran; Now tears gush frae my e’e: I've nin to comfort me! When wheyles I mounted on my yaud, The weyfe, the neybors, weel she knew, Nae pamper'd beasts e'er heeded we; And wheyles I gat her teates o' hay, Frae Tindle-Fell twelve pecks she'd bring— I niver strack her, silly thing! 'Twas hard we twea sud part! I's auld, and feal'd, and ragg'd, and peer, And cannot raise anither meer; But cannot leeve anither year! The loss will break my heart! Carlisle, February 27, 1808. ROBERT ANDERSON. END OF THE BALLADS. |