THE HOLY FAIR.

'I'm sure I've seen that bonie face,

'But yet I canna name ye.?

Quo' she, an' laughin as she spak kudy by
An' taks me by the hands,

"Ye, for my sake, hae gi'en the feck

"My name is Fun-your cronie dear.

'The nearest friend ye hae; • An' this is Superstition here,. An' that's Hypocrisy. ‘I'm gaun to*********Holy Fair,

To spend an hour in daffin:

'Gin ye'll go there, yon runkl'd pair,

We will get famous laughin

At them this day!

VI.

Quo' I, 'With a' my heart, I'll do't;:

I'll get my Sunday's sark on,

An' meet you on the holy spot;

Faith we'se hae fine remarkin as toanod 177

THE HOLY FAIR.

Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time,
An' soon I made me ready;

For roads were clad, frae side to side,
Wi' monie a wearie body,

In droves that day.

VII.

Here farmers gash, in ridin graith,

Gaed hodden by their cotters;

There, swankies young, in braw braid-claith,

Are springin o'er the gutters. The lasses, skelpin barefit, thrang,

In silks an' scarlets glitter;

Wi' sweet-milk cheese, in monie a whang,

An' farls bak'd wi' butter

Fu' crump that day.

VIII.

When by the plate we set our nose,
Weel heaped up witha'pence,

A greedy glowr Black Bonnet throws,

An' we maun draw our tippence.

Then in we go to see the show,

On ev'ry side they're gatherin;

THE HOLY FAIR.

Some carrying dales, some chairs an stools,

An' some are busy blethrin

Right loud that day, son yo'

IX.

Here stands a shed to fend the show'rs,
An' screen our countra Gentry,

There, racer Jess, an' twa-three wh-res, 96

Are blinkin at the entry.

Here sits a raw of tittlin jädes,

Wi' heaving breast and bare neek,

An' there a batch o' wahster lads,

Blackguarding frae K

ck

For fun this day.cy smak DH

X.

Here some are thinkin on their sins,
An' some upo' their claes;
Ane curses feet that fyl'd his shins,
Anither sighs and prays:
On this hand sits a chosen swatch,
Wi' screw'd up grace-proud faces;
On that a set o' Chaps at watch,
Thrang winkin on the lasses

To chairs that day.

O happy is that man an' blest!
Nae wonder that it pride him!
Wha's ain dear lass, that he likes best,
Comes clinkin down beside him!

Wi' arm repos'd on the chair back,
He sweetly does compose him ;
Which, by degrees, slips round her neck,
An's loof upon her bosom

Unkend that day.

XII.

Now a' the congregation o'er

Is silent expectation;
For******speels the holy door,

Wi' tidings o' d-mn-t--n.

Should Hornie, as in ancient days,
'Mang sons o' G― present him,
The vera sight o********s face,
To's ain het hame had sent him

VOL I..

Wi' fright that day..

L.

THE HOLY FAIR.

XIII.

Hear how he clears the points o' faith
Wi' rattlin an' wi' thumpin !
Now meekly calm,-now wild in wrath,
He's stampin an' he's jumpin!
His lengthen'd chin, his turn'd up snout,
His eldritch squeel and gestures,
O how they fire the heart devout,

Like cantharidian plaisters,

On sic a day!

XIV.

But, hark! the tent has chang'd it's voice;

There's peace an' rest nae langer :

For a' the real judges rise,

They canna sit for anger.

*****

opens out his cauld harangues,
On practice and on morals;

An' aff the godly pour in thrangs,
To gie the jars an' barrels

A lift that day.

XV.

What signifies his barren shine,

Of moral pow'rs and reason?