The Canongate Burns. Robert Burns

The rising sun, owre GALSTON Muirs, over, moors

      Wi’ glorious light was glintan;

      The hares were hirplan down the furs, hobbling with uneven speed, furrows

      The lav’rocks they were chantan larks

      Fu’ sweet that day. full

      10 As lightsomely I glowr’d abroad,

      To see a scene sae gay, so

      Three hizzies, early at the road, young wenches

      Cam skelpan up the way. came hurrying

      Twa had manteeles o’ dolefu’ black, two, mantles

      15 But ane wi’ lyart lining; one, grey

      The third, that gaed a wee aback, went, behind

      Was in the fashion shining

      Fu’ gay that day. full

      The twa appear’d like sisters twin, two

      20 In feature, form, an’ claes; clothes

      Their visage — wither’d, lang an’ thin, long

      An’ sour as onie slaes: any sloes

      The third cam up, hap-step-an’-lowp, hop-step-and-leap

      As light as onie lambie, — any lamb

      25 An’ wi’ a curchie low did stoop, curtsey

      As soon as e’er she saw me,

      Fu’ kind that day.

      Wi’ bonnet aff, quoth I, ‘Sweet lass, off

      I think ye seem to ken me; know

      30 I’m sure I’ve seen that bonie face, pretty

      But yet I canna name ye. — ’ cannot

      Quo’ she, an’ laughin as she spak, spoke

      An’ taks me by the hands,

      ‘Ye, for my sake, hae gi’en the feck have given, bulk

      35 Of a’ the ten commands

      A screed some day. rip

      ‘My name is FUN — your cronie dear, friend

      The nearest friend ye hae; have

      An’ this is SUPERSTITION here,

      40 An’ that’s HYPOCRISY.

      I’m gaun to Mauchline Holy Fair, going

      To spend an hour in daffin: larking/playing

      Gin ye’ll go there, yon runkl’d pair, if, wrinkled

      We will get famous laughin

      45 At them this day.’

      Quoth I, ‘Wi’ a’ my heart, I’ll do’t;

      I’ll get my Sunday’s sark on, shirt

      An’ meet you on the holy spot;

      Faith, we’se hae fine remarkin!’ we’ll have

      50 Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time, went, breakfast/gruel

      An’ soon I made me ready;

      For roads were clad, frae side to side, filled

      Wi’ monie a wearie body, many

      In droves that day.

      55 Here farmers gash, in ridin graith, smart, gear

      Gaed hoddan by their cotters; went jogging, farm workers

      There swankies young, in braw braid-claith, strapping fellows, fine broadcloth

      Are springan owre the gutters. jumping over

      The lasses, skelpan barefit, thrang, hastening barefoot, crowded

      60 In silks an’ scarlets glitter;

      Wi’ sweet-milk cheese, in monie a whang, many, large slice

      An’ farls, bak’d wi’ butter, cakes

      Fu’ crump that day. hard or crisp

      When by the plate we set our nose, collection plate

      65 Weel heapè d up wi’ ha’pence,

      A greedy glowr Black-bonnet throws, stare, Church elder

      An’ we maun draw our tippence. must give

      Then in we go to see the show:

      On ev’ry side they’re gath’ran;

      70 Some carryin dails, some chairs an’ stools, bench planks

      An’ some are busy bleth’ran talking gossip

      Right loud that day.

      Here, stands a shed to fend the show’rs, ward off

      An’ screen our countra Gentry; country

      75 There Racer Jess, an’ twa-three whores, two or three

      Are blinkan at the entry.

      Here sits a raw o’ tittlan jads, giggling girls

      Wi’ heavin breasts an’ bare neck;

      An’ there a batch o’ Wabster lads, group of weavers

      80 Blackguardin frae Kilmarnock, mischief making from

      For fun this day.

      Here some are thinkan on their sins,

      An’ some upo’ their claes; clothes

      Ane curses feet that fyl’d his shins, one, soiled, shoes/feet

      85 Anither sighs an’ prays: another

      On this hand sits a Chosen swatch, sample

      Wi’ screw’d-up, grace-proud faces;

      On that, a set o’ chaps, at watch,

      Thrang winkan on the lasses busy

      90 To chairs that day.

      O happy is that man an’ blest!

      Nae wonder that it pride him! no

      Whase ain dear lass, that he likes best, whose own

      Comes clinkan down beside him! sitting quickly

      95 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, hand

      Unkend that day. unnoticed

      100 Now a’ the congregation o’er

      Is silent expectation;

      For Moodie speels the holy door, reaches

      Wi’ tidings o’ damnation:

      Should Hornie, as in ancient days, the Devil

      105 ’Mang sons o’ God present him;

      The vera sight o’ Moodie’s face, very

      To’s ain het hame had sent him to his own hot home

      Wi’ fright that day.

      Hear how he clears the points o’ Faith

      110 Wi’ rattlin and thumpin!

      Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,

      He’s stampan, an’ he’s jumpan! stomping

      His lengthen’d chin, his turn’d-up snout,

      His eldritch squeel an’ gestures, unearthly squeal

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