Robert Burns

The Canongate Burns


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was a gilpey then, I’m sure young girl

      130 I was na past fyfteen: not

      The Simmer had been cauld an’ wat, summer, cold, wet

      An’ Stuff was unco green; corn

      An’ ay a rantan Kirn we gat, rollicking, harvest, got

      An’ just on Halloween

      135 It fell that night.

      ‘Our stibble-rig was Rab M’Graen, leader of the reapers

      A clever, sturdy fallow; fellow

      His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi’ wean, son, got, child

      That lived in Achmachalla:

      An’ he made unco light o’t;

      But monie a day was by himsel, many

      He was sae sairly frighted so sorely

      That vera night.’

      145 Then up gat fechtan Jamie Fleck, got fighting

      An’ he swoor by his conscience, swore

      That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; sow

      For it was a’ but nonsense:

      The auld guidman raught down the pock, old good-, reached, bag

      150 An’ out a handfu’ gied him; gave

      Syne bad him slip frae ’mang the folk, then, bade, from

      Sometime when nae ane see’d him, no one, sees

      An’ try’t that night.

      He marches thro’ amang the stacks, among

      155 Tho’ he was something sturtan; staggering

      The graip he for a harrow taks, garden-fork

      And haurls at his curpan; drags, rear

      And ev’ry now and then, he says,

      ‘Hemp-seed I saw thee, sow

      160 An’ her that is to be my lass

      Come after me, an’ draw thee

      As fast this night.’

      He whistl’d up Lord Lenox’ March,

      To keep his courage cheery;

      165 Altho’ his hair began to arch, stand with fear

      He was sae fley’d an’ eerie; so frightened

      Till presently he hears a squeak,

      An’ then a grane an’ gruntle; groan, grunt

      He by his shouther gae a keek, shoulder gives, look

      170 An’ tumbl’d wi’ a wintle somersault

      Out-owre that night. over

      He roar’d a horrid murder-shout,

      In dreadfu’ desperation!

      An’ young an’ auld come rinnan out, old, running

      175 An’ hear the sad narration:

      He swoor ‘twas hilchin Jean M’Craw, halting

      Or crouchie Merran Humphie — hunchback

      Till stop! she trotted thro’ them a’;

      An’ wha was it but Grumphie who, the pig

      180 Asteer that night? moving about

      Meg fain wad to the Barn gaen, content, would have gone

      But for to meet the Deil her lane, all alone

      She pat but little faith in: put

      185 She gies the herd a pickle nits, gives, shepherd, few

      An’ twa red-cheeket apples, two, -cheeked

      To watch, while for the Barn she sets, goes

      In hopes to see Tam Kipples

      That vera night. very

      190 She turns the key wi’ cannie thraw, gentle, twist

      An’ owre the threshold ventures; over

      But first on Sawnie gies a ca’, Satan, gives, call

      Syne bauldly in she enters: once boldly

      A ratton rattl’d up the wa’, rat, wall

      195 An’ she cry’d, Lord preserve her!

      An’ ran thro’ midden-hole an’ a’, dung-hole

      An’ pray’d wi’ zeal and fervour

      Fu’ fast that night.

      They hoy’t out Will, wi’ sair advice; urged, sore

      200 They hecht him some fine braw ane; promised, fine one

      Was timmer-propt for thrawin: wood stacked, support

      He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak twisted, old

      For some black gruesome Carlin; old hag

      205 An’ loot a winze, an’ drew a stroke, cursed, swiped

      Till skin in blypes cam haurlin shreds, peeling

      Aff’s nieves that night. off his fists

      A wanton widow Leezie was,

      As cantie as a kittlen; lively, kitten

      210 But Och! that night, amang the shaws, among, large leaves & branches

      She gat a fearfu’ settlin! got, severely unsettled

      She thro’ the whins, an’ by the cairn, gorse bushes

      An’ owre the hill gaed scrievin; over, went careering

      215 To dip her left sark-sleeve in shirt-

      Was bent that night.

      Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, whiles over, waterfall, burns falls

      As thro’ the glen it wimpl’t; meandered

      Wyles round a rocky scaur it strays, jutting rocky edge

      220 Whyles in a wiel it dimpl’t; whiles eddy

      Whyles glitter’d to the nightly rays, reflected

      Wi’ bickerin, dancin dazzle; running fast

      Whyles cookit underneath the braes, whiles hid

      Below the spreading hazel

      225 Unseen that night.

      Amang the brachens, on the brae, ferns, hillside

      Between her an’ the moon,

      The Deil, or else an outler Quey, stray young cow

      Gat up an’ gae a croon: got, gave, moan

      230 Poor Leezie’s heart maist lap the hool; almost leaped, sheath

      Near lav’rock-height