“Seu tu querlos sive geris jocos,
Seu rixom, et insanos amores,
Seu facilem, pia testa, somnum.” – CAR. III., 21.
HOO cam’ this bonnie greybeard here,
Sae trimly to the time o’ year,
When folk maun lay ‘t in, tho’ it’s dear?
But this, I’se wauger,
Cost but the buyin’ o’ the bere
An’ miss’d the gauger.
–
It’s smuggled – faith, I canna doot it!
The smell o’ peat-reek hings aboot it!
But still it’s whusky – to dispute it
Wad be a sin –
Sae wi’ the leechence, or withoot it,
We’se tak’ it in.
–
This verra night it’s Hogmanay –
When Hab an’ Rab an’ twa-three mae
Weel-geizen’d guisers up the brae
May be expeckit;
An’ they maun cake an’ caulker hae
Or they’re negleckit.
–
An’ juist as likly ‘s no, the folk
That brew’d, an’ brocht this bonnie crock,
An’ left it hingin’ at my lock
May be amon’ them –
Surely a mutchkin o’ the stock
‘S weel wair’d upon them.
–
It’s whusky noo; but ere the morn
The deil kens what may be i’ horn,
What acks and antics may be born
O’ this elixer!
The humours o’ John Barleycorn –
They’re a queer mixtur’!
–
Here Willie wi’ a warlike ee,
There Hab upon his bendit knee,
Dave amorous daft, an’ Roger ree,
An’ Patie snorin’,
An’ Geordie wi’ his jaws ajee
A ballant roarin’!
–
Rab sits an’ sulks, – a dour ane Rab!
Wee Johnnie gets a gift o’ gab,
Lang Sandie grows a perfeck blab
An’ tooms his mind;
While Tam, wi’ aye the ither sab,
Swears he’s resign’d.
–
I see them in their various places,
Oblivious o’ their blacken’d faces;
They sit, ae hour the ither chases,
Nor think o’ risin’,
Nor hoo John Barleycorn disgraces
Them an’ their guisin’.
–
At last it comes, the warnin’ click
The auld clock gi’es afore it strik’;
They warstle up, an’ i’ the nick
Roar oot their greetin’;
Then Patie’s wauken’d wi’ a kick,
An’ skells the meetin’!
