I pass'd the mill and trysting thorn,
Where Nancy aft I courted;
Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,
Down by her mother's dwelling!
And turn'd me round to hide the flood
That in my e'en was swelling.
Wi' alter'd voice, quoth I, "Sweet lass,
Sweet as yon hawthorn's bldssom,
O! happy, happy may he be,
That's dearest to thy bosom:
My purse is light, I've far to gang,
And fain would be thy lodger;
I've serv'd my king and country lang—
Take pity on a Sodger."
Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,
And lovelier was than ever;
Quo' shet "A sodger ance I lo'ed,
Forget him shall I never:
Our humble cot, and hamely fare,
Ye freely shall partake it;
That gallant badge—the dear cockade,
Ye're welcome for the sake o't."
She gaz'd—she redden'd like a rose---
Syne pale like ony lily;
She sank within my arms, and cried,
"Art thou my ain dear Willie?
"By him who made yon sun and sky!
By whom true love's regarded,
I am the man; and thus may still
True lovers be rewarded.
"The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame,
And find thee still true-hearted;
Tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,
And mair we'se ne'er be parted."
Quo' she, "My grandsire left me gowd,
A mailen plenish'd fairly;
And come, my faithfu' sodger lad,
Thou'rt welcome to it dearly!"
For gold the merchant ploughs the main,
The farmer ploughs the manor;
But glory is the sodger's prize,
The sodger's wealth is honor:
The brave poor sodger ne'er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember he's his country's stay,
In day and hour of danger.
Ye true "Loyal Natives" attend my song
In uproar and riot rejoice the night long;
From Envy and Hatred your core is exempt,
But where is your shield from the darts of Contempt!
ON COMMISSARY GOLDIE'S BRAINS
Lord, to account who dares thee call,
Or e'er dispute thy pleasure?
Else why, within so thick a wall,
Enclose so poor a treasure?
LINES INSCRIBED IN A LADY'S POCKET ALMANAC
Grant me, indulgent Heaven, that I may live,
To see the miscreants feel the pains they give;
Deal Freedom's sacred treasures free as air,
Till Slave and Despot be but things that were.
THANKSGIVING FOR A NATIONAL VICTORY
Ye hypocrites! are these your pranks?
To murder men and give God thanks!
Desist, for shame!—proceed no further;
God won't accept your thanks for Murther!
LINES ON THE COMMEMORATION OF RODNEY'S VICTORY
Instead of a song, boys, I'll give you a toast;
Here's to the memory of those we have lost!—
That we lost, did I say?—nay, by Heav'n, that we found;
For their fame it will last while the world goes round.
The next in succession I'll give you's The King!
Whoe'er would betray him, on high may he swing!
And here's the grand fabric, the free Constitution,
As built on the base of our great Revolution!
And longer with Politics not to be cramm'd,
Be Anarchy curs'd, and be Tyranny damn'd!
And who would to Liberty e'er prove disloyal,
May his son be a hangman—and himself his first trial!
Thou greybeard, old Wisdom! may boast of thy treasures;
Give me with old Folly to live;
I grant thee thy calm-blooded, time-settled pleasures,
But Folly has raptures to give.
Ye men of wit and wealth, why all this sneering
'Gainst poor Excisemen? Give the cause a hearing:
What are your Landlord's rent-rolls?—taxing ledgers! What Premiers?—what ev'n Monarchs?-mighty Gaugers? Nay, what are Priests? (those seeming godly wise-men,) What are they, pray, but Spiritual Excisemen!
EXTEMPORE REPLY TO AN INVITATION
The King's most humble servant, I
Can scarcely spare a minute;
But I'll be wi' you by an' by;
Or else the Deil's be in it.
GRACE AFTER MEAT
LORD, we thank, and thee adore,
For temporal gifts we little merit;
At present we will ask no more-
Let William Hislop give the spirit.
GRACE BEFORE AND AFTER MEAT
O Lord, when hunger pinches sore,
Do thou stand us jn stead,
And send us, from thy bounteous stpre,
A tup or wether head! Amen.
O Lord, since we have feasted thus,
Which we so little merit,
Let Meg now take away the flesh,
And Jock bring in the spirit! Amen.
IMPROMPTU ON GENERAL DUMOURIER'S DESERTION FROM THE FRENCH REPUBLICAN ARMY
You're welcome to Despots, Dumourier;
You're welcome to Despots, Dumourier:
How does Dampiere do?
Ay, and Bournonville too?
Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier?
I will fight France with you, Dumourier;
I will fight France with you, Dumourier;
I will fight France with you,
I will take my chance with you
By my soul, I'll dance with you, Dumourier.
Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
Then let us fight about, Dumourier;
Then let us fight about,
Till Freedom's spark be out,
Then we'll be d—d, no doubt, Dumourier.
THE LAST TIME I CAME O'ER THE MOOR
The last time I came o'er the moor,
And left Maria's dwelling,
What throes, what tortures passing cure,
Were in my bosom swelling:
Condemn'd to see my rival's reign,
While I in secret languish;
To feel a fire in every vein,
Yet dare not speak my anguish.
Love's veriest wretch, despairing, I
Fain, fain, my crime would cover;
Th' unweeting groan, the bursting sigh,
Betray the guilty lover.
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