Hughie’s Advice to Dauvit to Enjoy the Fine Weather, pp.19-21.

[Horace in Homespun Contents]

Gratia cum nymphis geminisque sororibus audet 

Ducere nuda choros.” – CAR. IV., 7. 

AN’ noo ance mair the Lomon’ 

Has donn’d his mantle green, 

An’ we may gang a-roamin’ 

Thro’ the fields at e’en; 


An’ listen to the rustlin’ 

O’ green leaves i’ the shaw, 

An’ hear the blackbird whistlin’ 

Winter weel awa’. 


Sae mild’s the weather, Dauvit, 

that was but late sae bauld, 

We gang withoot a grauvit 

CAreless o’ the cauld. 


An’ juist the tither nicht, man, 

Twa barefit Mays were seen 

(It maun hae been a sicht, man!) 

Dancin’ on the green. 


It sets a body thinkin’ 

Hoo quick the moments fly, 

Hoo fast the days gang linkin’ – 

Spring ‘ill sune be by; 


Then Simmer wi’ the roses, 

Then Autumn wi’ the grain; 

Then Winter comes an’ closes 

A’ thing ance again! 


An’ yet, tho’ short her range is, 

Dame Nature’s never dune; 

She just repeats the changes, 

Just renews the tune. 


The auld mune to her ruin 

Gangs rowin’ doon the sky, 

When, swith, a braw bran new ane 

Cocks her horn on high! 


Alas! when oor short mornin’ 

Slides doun the slope to nicht, 

There’s neither tide nor turnin’ 

Back to life an’ licht. 


We fa’ as fell oor faithers 

Into the narra hame, 

An’ fog forgetfu’ gaithers 

Owre oor very name. 


But what needs a’ this grievin’ 

For griefs we dinna feel? 

Let’s leeve as lang’s we’re leevin’, 

Lauch as lang’s we’re weel. 


An’ if it’s gude i’ gloamin’ 

It’s better sune than syne 

To rise an’ gang a-roamin’ 

Noo the weather’s fine.

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