The Holy Fair（8 / 9）

  an' how they crouded to the yill,
  when they were a' dismist;
  how drink gaed round, in cogs an' caups,
  amang the furms an' benches;
  an' cheese an' bread, frae women's laps,
  was dealt about in lunches
  an' dawds that day.
  in comes a gawsie, gash guidwife,
  an' sits down by the fire,
  syne draws her kebbuck an' her knife;
  the lasses they are shyer:
  the auld guidmen, about the grace
  frae side to side they bother;
  till some ane by his bonnet lays,
  an' gies them't like a tether,
  fu' lang that day.
  waesucks! for him that gets nae lass,
  or lasses that hae naething!
  sma' need has he to say a grace,
  or melvie his braw claithing!
  o wives, be mindfu' ance yoursel'
  how bonie lads ye wanted;
  an' dinna for a kebbuck-heel
  let lasses be affronted
  on sic a day!
  now clinkumbell, wi' rattlin tow,
  begins to jow an' croon;
  some swagger hame the best they dow,
  some wait the afternoon.
  at slaps the billies halt a blink, ↑返回顶部↑