When Bawdrons, wi’ her mousin paw,1
Dechts her face, the rains wull fa2
As they wou’d ding down roof and wa’,3
Tour and turret, rocks and a’, 4
In Yarrow droonin’ Newark-ha’. 5
An’ when the Hoggie frae his stye,6
Sees hoo the wund blaws in the sky,7
Snoking wi’ his snout on high,8
Grunts to man, “ ’tis all my eye,” 9
Foreseeing some strange destiny.10
When the Big Bore rushes forth,11
Like a man o’ war and worth,12
Bearin’ doon upo’ the North, 13
Where rules the king o’ a’ the earth, 14
Whom a’ the natives serve wi’ mirth.15
Then that Sovran frae his chair,16
Prooder than the Prince o’ Air,17
Aneath the deas, wi’ lady fair,18
Ane Mawga, proudly seated there,19
By men yeclyped—Christopher, 20
At the wee sma’ hour will snore,21
And by that Beast be couped ower, 22
Senseless on the holy floor. 23
Swinkum—Sanctum— Swiggamore !24
The Big Boar then his body busks25
Wi bristles, and his snout wi’ tusks.26
And scornin’ mair to feed on husks 27
Fearsomely his pig-tail whusks ! 28
Trummlin’ to be torn lith and limb,29
The Leddy Mawga looks at him ;30
The Gracefu’ gazin’ on the Grim,31
Wi’ dewy een in smiles that swim, 32
On misty nights like starnies dim, 33
And sings a sang that’s like a hymn, 34
Frae ane o’ heaven’s ain seraphim ! 35
Then a’ at aince, the Big Boar grows 36
Intil a man wi’ bauld brent brows, 37
A Shepherd singing sweet verse-vows, 38
Wha in his plaid the Leddy rows ! 39
People ! sure ’tis strange to see 40
The Twa seated on that settee41
Where the Cross-Bearer used to be, 42
Conspicuous far owre land and sea, 43
The steadfast pole-star o’ the free ! 44
Set him up to rug him doon ! 45
What think ye o’t, my bonny moon ! 46
Shinin’ abune the heech Auld Toune, 47
To see a lord in mortal swoon, 48
Aneath a limmer and a loun ? 49
Set him up to rug him doon ! 50
But be it late or be it soon, 51
The timmer turns to siller spoon, 52
The leather brogue to velvet shoon. 53
Sure sign the times are out o’ tune, 54
When an August dry as June, 55
( Foretold by him who reads the lune, 56
In seasons a’, bricht, black or broon, 57
That Gaelic seer, baith blythe and boon, 58
Though deaf as ony auld deer-houn, ) 59
At Forty-Five, in gran’ Saloon, 60
Shall see a Shepherd wear a croon.— 61
Thus endeth the prophetic crune !62