The Holy Fair（7 / 9）
by night or day.
the lads an' lasses, blythely bent
to mind baith saul an' body,
sit round the table, weel content,
an' steer about the toddy:
on this ane's dress, an' that ane's leuk,
they're makin observations;
while some are cozie i' the neuk,
an' forming assignations
to meet some day.
but now the lord's ain trumpet touts,
till a' the hills are rairin,
and echoes back return the shouts;
black russell is na sparin:
his piercin words, like highlan' swords,
divide the joints an' marrow;
his talk o' hell, whare devils dwell,
our vera “sauls does harrow”
wi' fright that day!
a vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit,
fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane,
whase raging flame, an' scorching heat,
wad melt the hardest whun-stane!
the half-asleep start up wi' fear,
an' think they hear it roarin;
when presently it does appear,
'twas but some neibor snorin
asleep that day.
'twad be owre lang a tale to tell,
how mony stories past; ↑返回顶部↑
the lads an' lasses, blythely bent
to mind baith saul an' body,
sit round the table, weel content,
an' steer about the toddy:
on this ane's dress, an' that ane's leuk,
they're makin observations;
while some are cozie i' the neuk,
an' forming assignations
to meet some day.
but now the lord's ain trumpet touts,
till a' the hills are rairin,
and echoes back return the shouts;
black russell is na sparin:
his piercin words, like highlan' swords,
divide the joints an' marrow;
his talk o' hell, whare devils dwell,
our vera “sauls does harrow”
wi' fright that day!
a vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit,
fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane,
whase raging flame, an' scorching heat,
wad melt the hardest whun-stane!
the half-asleep start up wi' fear,
an' think they hear it roarin;
when presently it does appear,
'twas but some neibor snorin
asleep that day.
'twad be owre lang a tale to tell,
how mony stories past; ↑返回顶部↑