In longitude tho' sorely scanty,

It was her best, and she was vauntie.78
Ah! little kend thy reverend grannie,
That sark she coft 79 for her wee Nannie,
Wi' twa pund Scots 80 ('twas a' her riches),
Wad ever grac'd a dance o' witches!

But here my Muse her wing maun cower,81
Sic flights are far beyond her power;
To sing how Nannie lap and flang,82
(A souple jade 83 she was and strang),
And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd,
And thought his very een enrich'd:

Even Satan glowr'd 84 and fidg'd fu' fain,85
And hotch'd 86 and blew wi' might and main:
Till first ae caper, syne 87 anither,

Tam tint 88 his reason a' thegither,
And roars out, "Weel done, Cutty-sark!"
And in an instant all was dark:

And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied.

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke,89

When plundering herds assail their byke; 90
As open pussie's 91 mortal foes,

When, pop! she starts before their nose;
As eager runs the market-crowd,

When "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud;
So Maggie runs, the witches follow,

Wi' mony an eldritch 92 skreich and hollow.

Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'll thy fairin! 93
In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin!
In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin!
Kate soon will be a woefu' woman!
Now, do thy speedy-utmost, Meg,
And win the key-stane o' the brig;
There, at them thou thy tail may toss,
A running stream they dare na cross!
But ere the key-stane she could make,
The fient 94 a tail she had to shake!
For Nannie, far before the rest,
Hard upon noble Maggie prest,
And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle;
But little wist she Maggie's mettle!
Ae spring brought off her master hale,
But left behind her ain gray tail:
The carlin 96 claught 97 her by the rump,
And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

95

Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read,
Ilk man, and mother's son, take heed:
Whene'er to Drink you are inclin'd,
Or Cutty-sarks run in your mind,
Think! ye may buy the joys o'er dear;
Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.

93. Fairin. Reward. 94. Fient. Devil.

95. Ettle. Effort.

96. Carlin. Witch.
97.

Claught. Clutched.

32

JOCK OF HAZELDEAN

SIR WALTER SCOTT

"Why weep ye by the tide, ladie?
Why weep ye by the tide?

I'll wed ye to my youngest son,
And ye sall be his bride:

And

ye sall be his bride, ladie,
Sae comely to be seen"—

But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.

"Now let this wilfu' grief be done,
And dry that cheek so pale;
Young Frank is chief of Errington
And lord of Langley-dale;

His step is first in peaceful ha',1
His sword in battle keen"-

But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.

"A chain of gold ye sall not lack,
Nor braid to bind your hair;

Nor mettled hound, nor managed 2 hawk,
Nor palfrey fresh and fair;

And you, the foremost of them a',
Shall ride our forest-queen"-

But aye she loot the tears down fa'
For Jock of Hazeldean.

Ha'. Manor-house.
Managed. Trained.

The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide,
The tapers glimmered fair;

The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
And dame and knight are there:
They sought her baith by bower and ha'; 3
The ladie was not seen!

She's o'er the border and awa'

Wi' Jock of Hazeldean.

33

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS 1

LEIGH HUNT

King Francis 2 was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport, And one day as his lions fought, sat looking on the court; The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies by their side, And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed.

And truly 't was a gallant thing to see that crowning show, Valor and love; and a king above; and the royal beasts below.

Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws; They bit, they glared, gave blows like bears, a wind went

with their paws;

With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,

Till all the pit with sand and mane, was in a thunderous smother;

3. Bower and ha'. Inner or private room and large room; that is, they sought everywhere.

1. It will be noted that this poem and the following are based upon the same incident. The German poet Schiller also wrote a poem upon this subject. It will be interesting to compare methods of handling in the two poems given.

2. King Francis. Francis I of France, 1494-1547.

The bloody foam above the bars came whizzing through the air,

Said Francis then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."

De Lorge's love o'erheard the King, a beauteous lively dame,

With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same;

She thought, the Count, my lover is brave as brave can be; He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of

me;

"King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine; I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine."

She dropped her glove, to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;

He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild: The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained

his place,

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.

"By heaven!" said Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat:

"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that."