The Complete Works - Robert Burns

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there will be trusty Kerroughtree,[127]

      Whose honour was ever his law,

      If the virtues were pack’d in a parcel,

      His worth might be sample for a’.

      IX.

      An’ can we forget the auld major,

      Wha’ll ne’er be forgot in the Greys,

      Our flatt’ry we’ll keep for some other,

      Him only ’tis justice to praise.

      An’ there will be maiden Kilkerran,

      And also Barskimming’s gude knight,

      An’ there will be roarin’ Birtwhistle,

      Wha luckily roars in the right.

      X.

      An’ there, frae the Niddisdale borders,

      Will mingle the Maxwells in droves;

      Teugh Johnnie, staunch Geordie, an’ Walie,

      That griens for the fishes an’ loaves;

      An’ there will be Logan Mac Douall,[128]

      Sculdudd’ry an’ he will be there,

      An’ also the wild Scot of Galloway,

      Sodgerin’, gunpowder Blair.

      XI.

      Then hey the chaste interest o’ Broughton,

      An’ hey for the blessings ’twill bring?

      It may send Balmaghie to the Commons,

      In Sodom ’twould make him a king;

      An’ hey for the sanctified M–y,

      Our land who wi’ chapels has stor’d;

      He founder’d his horse among harlots,

      But gied the auld naig to the Lord.

      CL. THE HERON BALLADS

      [BALLAD THIRD]

      [This third and last ballad was written on the contest between Heron and Stewart, which followed close on that with Gordon. Heron carried the election, but was unseated by the decision of a Committee of the House of Commons: a decision which it is said he took so much to heart that it affected his health, and shortened his life.]

      AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG.

      Tune.—“Buy broom besoms.”

      Wha will buy my troggin,

      Fine election ware;

      Broken trade o’ Broughton,

      A’ in high repair.

      Buy braw troggin,

      Frae the banks o’ Dee;

      Wha wants troggin

      Let him come to me.

      There’s a noble Earl’s[129]

      Fame and high renown

      For an auld sang—

      It’s thought the gudes were stown.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here’s the worth o’ Broughton[130]

      In a needle’s ee;

      Here’s a reputation

      Tint by Balmaghie.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here’s an honest conscience

      Might a prince adorn;

      Frae the downs o’ Tinwald—[131]

      So was never worn.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here’s its stuff and lining,

      Cardoness’[132] head;

      Fine for a sodger

      A’ the wale o’ lead.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here’s a little wadset

      Buittle’s[133] scrap o’ truth,

      Pawn’d in a gin-shop

      Quenching holy drouth.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here’s armorial bearings

      Frae the manse o’ Urr;[134]

      The crest, an auld crab-apple

      Rotten at the core.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here is Satan’s picture,

      Like a bizzard gled,

      Pouncing poor Redcastle,[135]

      Sprawlin’ as a taed.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here’s the worth and wisdom

      Collieston[136] can boast;

      By a thievish midge

      They had been nearly lost.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Here is Murray’s fragments

      O’ the ten commands;

      Gifted by black Jock[137]

      To get them aff his hands.

      Buy braw troggin, &c.

      Saw ye e’er sic troggin?

      If to buy ye’re slack,

      Hornie’s turnin’ chapman,

      He’ll buy a’ the pack.

      Buy braw troggin,

      Frae the banks o’ Dee;

      Wha wants troggin

      Let him come to me.

      CLI. POEM, ADDRESSED TO MR. MITCHELL, COLLECTOR OF EXCISE. DUMFRIES, 1796

      [The gentlemen to whom this very modest, and, under the circumstances, most affecting application for his salary was made, filled the office of Collector of Excise for the district, and was of a kind and generous nature: but few were aware that the poet was suffering both from ill-health and poverty.]

      Friend of the Poet, tried and leal,

      Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal;

      Alake, alake, the meikle deil

      Wi’ a’ his witches

      Are at it, skelpin’ jig and reel,

      In my poor pouches!

      I modestly fu’ fain wad hint it,

      That one pound one, I sairly want it,

      If wi’ the hizzie down ye sent it,

      It would be kind;

      And while my heart wi’ life-blood dunted

      I’d bear’t in mind.

      So may the auld year gang out moaning

      To see the new come laden, groaning,

      Wi’ double plenty o’er the loanin

      To thee and thine;

      Domestic peace and comforts crowning

      The hale design.

      POSTSCRIPT

      Ye’ve heard this while

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<p>127</p>

Heron, of Kerroughtree.

<p>128</p>

Colonel Macdouall, of Logan.

<p>129</p>

The Earl of Galloway.

<p>130</p>

Murray, of Broughton and Caillie.

<p>131</p>

Bushby, of Tinwald-downs.

<p>132</p>

Maxwell, of Cardoness.

<p>133</p>

The Minister of Buittle.

<p>134</p>

Morehead, of Urr.

<p>135</p>

Laurie, of Redcastle.

<p>136</p>

Copland, of Collieston and Blackwood.

<p>137</p>

John Bushby, of Tinwald-downs.