( 107 ) 107) This paft for certain, undisputed; Till chiels gat up an' wad confute it, An' muckle din there was about it, Baith loud an' lang. Some berds, weel learn'd upo' the beuk, Wad threap auld folk the thing misteuk; For 'twas the auld moon turn'd a neuk, An' out o' fight, An' backlins-comin, to the leuk, She grew mair bright, This was deny'd, it was affirm'd; The herds an' biffels were alarm'd: The rev'rend gray-beards rav'd an' ftorm'd, That beardlefs laddies Should think they better were inform'd Than their auld daddies. Frae Frae less to mair it gaed to fticks; Frae words an' aiths to clours an' nicks; Wi' hearty crunt; An' fome, to learn them for their tricks, Were hang'd an' brunt: This game was play'd in monie lands, Till Lairds forbade, by ftrict commands, But new-light herds gat fic a cowe, Folk thought them ruin'd stick-an-ftowe, Till now amaift on ev'ry knowe, Ye'll find ane plac'd; An' fome, their new-light fair avow, Juft quite barefac'd. Nae Nae doubt the auld-light flocks are bleatin; Their zealous herds are vex'd an' fweatin; Myfel, I've even seen them greetin Wi' girnin fpite, To hear the Moon fae fadly lie'd on By word an' write. But shortly they will cowe the louns! Some auld-light herds in neebor towns Are mind't, in things they ca balloons, To tak a flight, An' stay ae month amang the Moons An' see them right. Guid obfervation they will gie them; An' when the auld Moon's gaun to lea'e them, The hindmoft fhaird, they'll fetch it wi' them, Juft i' their pouch, An' when the new-light billies fee them, I think they'll crouch! Sae, Sae, ye obferve that a' this clatter I hope, we Bardies ken fome better Than mind fic brulzie. EPISTLE EPISTLE то J. R* Inclofing fome Poems. OROUGH, rude, ready-witted R******, The wale o' cocks for fun and drinkin! Your dreams* an' tricks Will fend you, Korah-like, a-finkin, Straught to auld Nick's. Ye A certain humorous dream of his was then ma king a noife in the country-fide. |