When August winds the heather wave,
And sportsmen wander by yon grave,
Three volleys let his mem'ry crave

O' pouther an' lead,

Till Echo answer frae her cave,

Tam Samson's dead!

Heav'n rest his saul, whare'er he be!
Is th' wish o' mony mae than me;
He had twa faults, or maybe three,

Yet what remead?

Ae social honest man want we:

Tam Samson's dead!

THE EPITAPH.

TAM SAMSON's weel-worn clay here lies,
Ye canting zealots, spare him!
If honest worth in heaven rise,
Ye'll mend or ye win near him.

PER CONTRA.

Go, fame, an' canter like a filly
Thro' a' the streets an' neuks o' Killie1,

Tell ev'ry social, honest billie

To cease his grievin,

For yet, unskaith'd by death's gleg gullie,

Tam Samson's livin.

Killie is a phrase the country-folks sometimes use for Kilmarnock.

HALLOWEEN'.

[The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added, to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind (if any such should honour the author with a perusal), to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.]

Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,
The simple pleasures of the lowly train;
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

GOLDSMITH.

UPON that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans' dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the route is ta'en,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the cove 3, to stray an' rove
Amang the rocks and streams

To sport that night.

Is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other mischief-making beings are all abroad on their baneful, midnight errands; particularly those aerial people, the fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand anniversary.

2 Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.

3 A noted cavern near Colean-house, called the Cove of Colean; which, as Cassilis Downans, is famed in country story for being a favourite haunt of fairies.

Amang the bonnie winding banks
Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear,

4

Where Bruce ance rul'd the martial ranks,
An shook his Carrick spear,

Some merry, friendly, countra folks,
Together did convene,

To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks,

An' haud their Halloween

Fu' blythe that night.

The lasses feat, an' cleanly neat,
Mair braw than when they're fine;
Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe,
Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin':
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs,
Weel knotted on their garten,
Some unco blate, an' some wi' gabs,
Gar lasses' hearts gang startin

Whiles fast at night.

Then first and foremost, thro' the kail,
Their stocks' maun a' be sought ance;
They steek their een, an' graip an' wale,
For muckle anes an' straught anes.

The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the great deliverer of his country, were earls of Carrick.

5 The first ceremony of Halloween is, pulling each a stock, or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: Its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their spells-the husband or wife.-If any yird, or earth stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the custoc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or, to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the Christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question.

Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,

An' wander'd thro' the bow-kail, An' pow't, for want o' better shift, A runt was like a sow-tail,

Sae bow't that night.

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar, an' cry a' throu❜ther;

The vera wee things, todlin, rin

Wi' stocks out-owre their shouther;
An' gif the custoc's sweet or sour,
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;
Syne coziely, aboon the door,

Wi' cannie care, they place them
To lie that night.

The lasses staw frae' mang them a'
To pou their stalks o' corn';
But Rab slips out, an' jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard an' fast;
Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,

6

When kiuttlin in the fause-house 7

Wi' him that night.

They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed any thing but a maid.

When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green, or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old timber, &c., makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a fausehouse.

The auld guidwife's weel-hoordet nits
Are round an' round divided,
An' monie lads' and lasses' fates

Are there that night decided:
Some kindle, couthie, side by side,
An' burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa wi' saucy pride,
And jump out-owre the chimlie

Fu' high that night.

Jean slips in twa, wi' tentie ee;
Wha 'twas, she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, and this is me,
She says in to hersel:

He bleez'd owre her, an' she owre him,
As they would never mair part;

Till fuff! he started up the lum,
An' Jean had e'en a sair heart

To see't that night.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie,
An' Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compar'd to Willie :

Mall's nit lap out wi' pridefu' fling,
An' her ain fit it brunt it;

While Willie lap, an' swoor by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted

To be that night.

8 Burning the nuts is a famous charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire, and accordingly as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the courtship will be.

VOL. I.

K