John Quincy.

The American medical lexicon, on the plan of Quincy's Lexicon physico-medicum, with many retrenchments, additions, and improvements; comprising an explanation of the etymology and signification of the terms used in anatomy, physiology, surgery, materia medica, chemistry, and the practice of physic. online

. (page 1 of 5)
Online LibraryJohn QuincyThe American medical lexicon, on the plan of Quincy's Lexicon physico-medicum, with many retrenchments, additions, and improvements; comprising an explanation of the etymology and signification of the terms used in anatomy, physiology, surgery, materia medica, chemistry, and the practice of physic. → online text (page 1 of 5)
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^A M^B\r^



Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2010 with funding from

University of Pittsburgh Library System



http://www.archive.org/details/gentleshepherdscOOrams



'^



THE



eEMTLE SHBPHERB:



SCOTS PASTORAL COMEDY,

BY

ALLAN RAMSAY.

A NEW EDITIOK, \^TTH THE SONGS.
CAREFULLY CORRECTED.

Tlie Gentle Shepherd sat beside a Spring",

All in the shadow of a bushy Brier,
That Colin height, which well could pipe and sing

For he ofTiTYRushis song did lere.

Spkncer, p. 1113.

PITTSBURGH :

PUBLISHED BY PATTERSOIf & HOPKIITS.

S. Engles 8c Co. Printers.
181^.



THE GENTLE SHEPHERD :



PASTORAL COMEDY,

INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT rfONOUEAB LB

SUSANNA, COUNTESS OF EGLINTOUN.

Madam,

THE love of approbation, and a desire to please the
best, have ever encouraged the poets to finish
their designs with chearfulness. But conscious of their
own inability to oppose a stomi of spleen and haughty ill-
nature, it is generally an ingenious custom among them
to chuse some honourable shade.

Wherefore I beg leave to put my Pastoral under your
Ladyship's protection. If my patroness says the Shep-
herds speak as they ought, and that there are several
natural flowers that beautify the rural wild : I shall have
good reason to think myself safe from the aukward
•censure of some pretending judges, that condemn be-
fore examination.

I am sure of a vast number that will croud into your
Ladyship's opinion, and think' it their honour to agree in
their sentiments with the Countess of Ecj;lintoun, whose
penetration, superior wit, and sound judgment, shine
with an uncommon lustre, while accompanied v/ith the
diviner charms of goodness and equality of mind.

If it were not for offending only your Ladyship, here,
Madam, I might give the fullest liberty to rny muse, to
delineate the finest of women, by drawing your Lady-
ship's character, and be in no hazard of being deemed
a flatterer : Since flattery lies not in paying what is due
to merit, but in praises misplaced.

Were I to begin with your Ladyship's honorable birth
and alliance, the field is ample, and presents us witli
numberless great and good patriots, that have dignifie^l



the names of Kennedy and Montgomery ; be that the
care of the herald and historian. 'Tis personal meritj
aiid the heavenly sweetness of the Fair, that y;ispire the
tuneful lays. Here every Lesbia must be excepted,
whose tongues give Liberty to the slaves which
their eyes had made captives. Such may be flattered ;
but your Ladyship justly claims our admiration and pro-
foundest respect : for while you are possest of every
outward charm, in the most perfect degree, the never-
fading beauties of wisdom and piety, which adorn your
Ladyship's mind, command devotion.

All this is very true, cries one of better sense than
5::-ood nature ; but what occasion have you to tell us the
sun shines when we have the use of our eyes, and feel
his influence ? — Veiy true ; but I have the liberty to use
the Poet's privilege, which is, " To speak what every
body thinks." Indeed there might be some strength in
the reflection, if the Idalian registers were of as short
duration as life ; but the Bard, who fondly hopes im-
mortality, has a certain praise-worthy pleasure in com-
municating to posterity the fame of distinguished cha-
racters. 1 write this last sentence with a hand that

trembles between hope and fear ; but if I shall prove
so happy as to please your Ladyship in the following at-
tempt, then all my doubts shall vanish like a morning
vapour ; I shall hope to be classed with Tasso and Gua-
rini, and sing with Ovid,

" If 'tis allow'd to poets to divine,

^ One half of round eternity is mine."

MADAM,

Your Ladyship's most obedient,

and most devoted Servant,

ALLAN RAMSAY.



ALEXANDER BOSS, A. M.

In his Introduction to Melenore, or the Fortunate
She'pherdess, says of the Gentle Shepherd :

r

What wad I geen, had ScoTApiit her thumb
Upo' the weel telPd tale till I had come ;
Syne led my hand alangst it, line for line,
O to my dying day, how I wad shine !
And as far 'yont it as syn Habbie play*d.
Op Christ's Kirk o' the Green was first essay-d \
And mair I wad na wiss, but Alias^ bears
Tlie gree himsel, and the green laural wears ;
Weel may he brook them, for he justly ought,
Tlie Gentle Shephesd is sae finely wrought,
Wi' acts and Scenes, of maisterly design,
Which doth in Scota's pitliy language shine.



This excellent Piece does honour to North Brt-
tain. There is no Pastoral in tlie English Language
comparable to it ; and, I believe, there is none in any
language superior to it.

Lord Gardenstone.



THE PERSONS.
MEJS\

Sir William Worthy.

Patie, the Gentle Shepherd in love with Feggy.

KoGER, a rich young Shepherd in love ivith Jenny.

SiMo^, I ^^^^.^ ^i^ Shepherds, Tenants to Sir William.

Glald, J

Balldy, a Hind engaged with Xeps.

WOMEX.

Peggy, thought to he GUmd'i Xiece.

Jenivy, Gland's only Daughter.

Mause, an old Womattf supposed to he a Witch.

Elspa, Simon's Wife.

Madge, Gland's Sister.

SCENE, a Shepherd's Village and Fields some few
Miles from Edinhiirgh.

Time of Action, 7cithin Twenty four Hours.
5'irst Act begins at eight in the Morning.
Second Act hegins at Eleren in the Forenoon.
Third Act hegins at Four in the Aftei'noon.
Fourth Act begins at Xine o'clock at Xight.
Fifth Act begins at Bay-light next morning.



^



The Gentle Shepherdt



ACT I Scene I.

PROI.OGIJE.

Benaithtlie south side of a craigy bleld.
Where crystal springs the halsome waters- jdekl,
Twa youthfu' shepherds on the govvans lay.
Tenting their flocks ae bonny morn of May.
Poor Roger gi-anes, 'till hollow echoes ring :
But blyther Patie likes to laugh and sing.

PATIE AND ROGER.

SANG I. The wawUn^ of the Faul(t,

Patie. 1%/l^Y Peggy is a young thing,
111 Just eiiter'd in her teens.
Fair as the day and sweet as May,
JB'air as the day and always g*ay.
My Peggy is a young thing,

And Pm not very auld,
Yet weel I like to meet her at
The wawking of tlie fiiiikl.

My Peggy speaks sae sweetly,
When e'er we meet alane,
I wish nae mair to lay my care,
I wish nae mair of a' that's rar^.
My Peggy speaks sae sAveetly,

To a' the lave Fm caiiH ;
But she gars a' my spirits glow.
At wawking of the fauld.

My Peggy smiles sae kindly,

When e'er I whisper love.

That I look down on a' tlie town.

That I look down upon a crown.

My Peggy smiles sae kindly.

It makes jne bly the and bauW,



8

Andnactliinggi'es mc sic delight.
As walking of the fauld.

My Peggy sings sae saftly,
Wien oa my pipe I play ;
By a' the rest it is confest.
By a' the rest that«he sings best.
My Peggy sings sae saftly.
And in her saug*s are tald,
"Wi* innocence, the wale of sense.
At wawking of the fatdd.

THIS sunny morning, Roger, chears my blood.
And puts a' nature in a jovial mood.
How hartsoiue is't to sec the rising plants.
To hear the biixls, eliirm o'er the pleasing rants.
How halesome is't to snuff the cawler ah*.
And a' the sweets it beai's, when void of care.
AVliat ails thee, Roger, then ? what gars thee granc ?
Tell me the cause o' thy ill-season'd pain.

Boger, Vm born, O Patie, to a thrawart fate i
I'm born to strive wi' hardships sad and great.
Tempests may cease to jaw the rowan iiood,
Coi'l)ies and tods to grien for lambkins blood ;
But I, opprestwi' never-ending grief.
Maun ay despair of ligliting on relief.

Fatie, llie bees shall lothe the flow'r, and quit the
hive.
The saughs on boggie grounds shall cease to thrive.
Ere seornfu' queans, or loss of warldly gear.
Shall spill my rest or ever force a tear.

Roger, Sae might I say; but it's no easy done
By ane whase saul's sae sadly out of tune.
Ye hae sae saft a voice, and slid a tongue.
You are tlic darling of baith auld and young.
If I but ettle at a sang or speak.
They dit their lugs, syne uj> their leglanes eleek>
And jeer me hameward frae the loan or bught.
While I'm confus'd wi' mony a vexing thought ;
Yet I am tall, and as well built as thee,
Nor mair unlikely to a lass's eye.
For ilka sheep ye ha'e, I'll number tew.
And should, as ane may think, come farer been.



Patie, But ablins* nibour ye hae not a heaBt^
And (lowna eithly \vi' your eunzie part :
If that be true what signifies your gear ?
A miiid that's scrimpit never wants some care.

Rogei\ My byre tumbled, nine braw nowtwep«
smoor'd.
Three elf- shot were, yet I these ills endur'd :
lii winter last my cares were very sma',
'I'ho' scores of watliers perisli'd in the snaw.

Fatie. Were your bien rooms as thinly flock'd as
mine,
. liCss ye wad loss, and less ye wad repine.
He tliat has just enough can soundly sleep, ,
The o'ercome only fashes fowk to keep.

lloger, oViay plenty flow upo' thee for a cross.
That thou mayst thole the pangs of mony a loss :

mayst thou doat on some fair paughty wench,
l^hat ne'er will lout thy lowaii drowth to queneli ;
Till birz'd beneath the burden, thou cry dool !
And awn that ane may fret that is nae fool.

Vatic, Sax good fat Iambs, I sauld them ilka elute.
At the West-port, and bought a winesome flute
Of plumtree made, wi' iv'ry virls round;
A dainty whistle wi' a pleasant sound :
I'll be mair canty wi't, and ne'er cry dool.
Than you wi' a' your cash, ye dowie fool.

llogev. Na, Patie, na ! I'm nae sic churlish beast;
Some other thing? lies heavier at mv breast ;

1 dream'd a dreary dream this hinder nigltt.
That gars my flesli a' creep yet wi' the fright.

Fatie. Now, to a friend, how silly's this pretence.
To ane wha you and a' your secrets kens !
Daft are your dreams, as daftly wad ye hide
Your weel seen love, and dorty Jenny's pride ;
Tak courage Roger, me your sorrows tell,
And safely think nane kens them but yoursek

ILoger. Indeed now, Patie, ye ha'e guess'd o'er true.
And there is naethisig I'll keep up frae you.
]Me dorty Jenny looks upon a squint ;
To speak but till her I dare hardly mint :
In ilka place, she jeers me air and iate,



10

And gars me look bombaz'd and unco' blate :

But yesterday I met her *yont a know,

She iTedas iVaea slielly-coatedkow.

Slic Baaldy looes, Bauldy that drives the car ;

But geeks at me, and says 1 smell o' tar.

^Patie. But Bauldy looes na her, right weel I wat,
He siglis for Neps : — sae that may stand for that.

Roger, I wish I cou'dna looe her ; but in vain,
I still maun do't, and thole her proud disdain,
^ly Bawty is a cur I dearly like,
E'en while he fawn'd, she strak the poor dumb tyke j
If I had fill'd a nook within her breast.
She wad ha' shawii mair kindness to my beast.
■\\Tien I begin to tune my stock and liorii,
AVi' a' her face she shaws a cauldrife scorn.
Last night I play'd, (ye never heard sic spite)
O'er Bogie was the spring, and her dely te ;
Yet tamitingly she at her cousin speerM,
Giffslie coidd tell what tune I play'd, and sneer'd—
Flocks, wander where ye like, I dlnna care,
I'll break my reed, and never whistle mair.

Patie, E'n do sae, Roger, who can help misluck ?
Saebins she be sic a thrawn gabbet chuck
Yonder's a craig ; since ye hae tint all hope,
Gae till't your ways, and tak the lovers lowp.

Roger, 1 need na mack sic speed my blood to spill,
I'll warrant death come soon enou^li a-will.

Patie, Daft gowk! leave affthat siilywhinging way,
Seem careless, tliere's my handye'U win the day.
Hear how I scrv'd my lass I lo'e as weel
As ye do Jenny, and wi' heart as Icel.
Last morning I was gay and early out, -
Upon a dyke I lean'd, glowring about,
I saw my Meg, come linkan o'er the lee ;
I saw my IMcg, but !Meggy saw na me ;
For yet the sun was wading thro' tlie'mist.
And slie was close upon me ere she wist.
Her coats were kiltet, and did sweetly shaw
Her straught baie legs, that whiter were than snaw f
Her cocker nony snooded up fu' sleek ;
Her haffat locks hang waving on her clieek ;
Her cheeks sae ruddy, and her ecn sae clear :



11

And O lier mouth's like ony liinny pear.

Neat, neat she was, in hustine waistcoat clean :

As she came skiffing o'er the dewy green,

BI jthsome I cryM, my honny Meg, come here,

I lerly wherefore ye'er so soon asteer ;

But I can guess^ ye'er gawn to gather dew:

She scour'd awa' and said, wliat's that to you ?

ITien fare ye weel, Meg Dorts, and e'en*s ye like,

I careless ery'd, and lap in o'er the dyke.

I trow, when that she saw, within a crack.

She came wi' a right thieveless errand hack ;

Misca'd me first— tlien bade me hound my dog.

To wear up three waif ewes stray'd on the bog.

I leugh ; and saedid she ; then wi' great haste,

I clasp'd my arms about her neck and waist ^

About her yielding waist, and took a fouth

Of sweetest kisses from her glow an mouth.

While hard and fast I held her in my grips.

My very saul came loupan to my lips.

Saiiv sair she Act wi' me 'tween ilka smack.

But weel I kend she meant na as she spak.

Dear Roger, when you're jo puts on her gloom^

Do you sae too, and never fash your thumb.

Seem to forsake her, soon she'll change her mood ;

Gae woo anither, and she'll gang clean wood.

SANG n. Tune, Fy gar rub her o'er wi* Strae,

Dear Roger, if your Jenny geek.

And answer kindness wi* a slight.
Seem uneoncern'd at her neglect ;

For women in a man deliglit :
But then despise who're soon defeat.

And wi' a simple face gi'e way
To a repulse — -then be not Mate,

Push bauldly on, and win the day.

When maidens, innocently young.
Say aften what they never mean ;

Ne'er mind their pretty lying tongue.
But tent the language of their een :

If these agree and she persist
To answer a' your love wi' hate.



12

Seek elsewhere to be better blest.
And let her sigh when 'tis too late*

Roger, Kind Patie, now fair fa' your honest heart,
Ye're ay say cadg^', and ha'e sic an art
To hearten ane ; For now as clean's a leek,
Ye've therish'd me since ye began to speak.
Sae for your pains, I'll mak ye a propine,
(My mother rest her saul ! she made it line;)
A tartan plaid, spun of good hawsloek w 00%
Scarlet and green the sets, the bonlers blue ;
Wi' spraiiigs like gowd and siller, cross'd wi' black,
I never had it yet upon my back.
Weel are ye woi'dy o't, wha ha'e sae kind
lied up my revel'd doubts, and clear'd my mind.

Patie. Weel baud ye there ■ and since ye'v«
frankly made
To me a present of your braw new plaid,
My flute be yours, and she too that's sae nice.
Shall come a- will gif ye'll tak my advice.

Moger, As ye advise, I'll promise to observe't;
But ye maim keep the flute, ye best deserve't.
Now tak it out, and gie's a bonny spring.
For I'm in tift to hear you play and sing.

Patie, But first w^e'll tak a turn up to the height.
And see gifi*' a' our flocks be feeding right ;
Be tliat time bannocks and a shave o' cheese.
Will make a breakfast that a laird might please :
Might please the dantiest gabs were they sae wise
To season meat with health instead of spice.
"When we ha'e tane the grace drink at this w ell,
rU whistle syne, and sing t'ye like mysel. [Exeunt



13
SCENE n.

PROLOGUE.

A flowrie howm between twa verdant braes.
Where lasses use to wash and spread their claiths :
A trotting burnie wimpling' thro' the ground.
Its channel peebles shining smooth and round {
Here view twa barefoot beauties clean and clear ;
First please your eye, next gratify your ear ;
While JENNY what she wishes discommends.
And MEG, wi' better sense, true love defends.

PEGGY AND JENNY.

Jenny, Come Meg, let's fa' to wark upon the
green.
This shining day will bleach our linen clean ;
The water's clear, the lift unclouded blue.
Will mak tliem like a lily wet wi' dew.

Peggy. Gae farer up the burn to Habbie's hoir,
WTiere a' the sweets of spring and simmer grow ;
Between twa birks out o'er a little lin
The water fa's and maks a singan din ;
A pool breast deep, beneath as clear as glass,
Kisses, wi' easy whirles, the bordering grass.
We'll end our washing, while the morning's cool.
And when the day grows het, we'll to the pool.
There wash oursells — 'tis healthf u' now in May,
And sweetly cawler on sae warm a day.

Jenny, Daft lassie, when we're naked what'll ye
say,
Oif our twa herds come brattling doAvn the brae.
And see us sae ? that jeering fallow Pate,
Wad taunting say, Haith lasses ye're no blate.

Feggy, We're far frae ony road, and out o' sight ;
The lads they're feeding far bey out the height ;
But tell me now, dear Jenny, (we're our lane,)
What gars ye plague your wooer wi' disdain I
The nibours a' tent this as weel as I :
That Roger lo'es ye, yet ye care na by.
What ails ye at him ? Troth, between us twa,
He's wordy you the best day e'er ye saw,

B



}



14

Jenny, I dinna like him, Peggy, thci*e's an end,
A lierd mair sheepish yet I never keiwl:
He kames his hair indeed and gaes I'iglit snug,
AV i' ribbon-knots at liis hlue bonnet hig;
AViiilk pensylie he wears a thonglit a-jee.
And spreads his garters dic'd heneatJi his knee.
He i'anlds his o'erlay down his breast wi' care,
And few gangs trigger to tlie kirk or fair ;
For a' that, he can neither sing nor say :
Kxcept, How d'ye ? — or, there's a honnij day,

Peggy, Ye dash the lad wi' constant sligliting pride
Hatred for love is uneo sair to bide :
Bnt ye'll repent ye if his love grow cauld,
AVhat like's a dorty maiden when she's auld ?
Like dawted wean, that tarrows at its meat.
That for some feckless whim will orp and greet 5
The lave laugli at it till the dinner's past,
And syne the tool thing is oblig'd to fast
Or scart anither's leavins at the last.

SANG ni. Tune, Polwart on the green.

The dorty will repent

If lover's heart grow cauld.
And naneher smiles will tent,

Soon as her face looks auld :

The dawted bairn thus takes the pet*

Nor eats tho' hunger crave ;
Whimpers and tarrows at its meat,

And's laught at by the lave.

Theyjest it till the dinner's past,

Thus by itself abus'd,
The fool thing is oblig'd to fast.

Or eat what they've refused.

Fy, Jenny, think, and dinna sit your time.

Jenny. I never thonglit a single life a crime.

Peggy, Noi' I But love in whispers lets us ken.

That men were made for us and we for men.

Jenny, If If oger is my jo he kens himsel,
Fos sic a tale I never heard him tell.
He glours and sighs^ and I can guess the cause ;
But wha's oblig'd to spell Ids hums and haws ?
Whene'er he likes to tell liis mind mair plain.



15

I'se tell Mm frankly ne'er to do't again.
Tiliey're fools that slav'ry like, and may be free ;
The chiels may a' knit up themselves for me.

Pcggij. Be doing your ways ; for me I have a mind
To be as yielding as my Patie's kind.

Jennii. Hen, lass ! how can ye lo'e that rattle skull !
A very de'il tliat ay maun liae his will.
We'll soon hear tell what a poor feightan life
You twa w ill lead, sae soon's ye're man and w ife.

SAA G lY. Tune, dear mitJiey^ ivhat shall I do^

O dear Peggy, love's beguiling,
We ought not to trust his smiling 5
Better far to do as I do.
Lest a harder luck betide you.
Lasses when their fancy's carry'd.
Think of nought but to be marr^^'d ;
Running to a life destroys
Heartsome free and youthfu' joys.

Faggiu V\\ rin the risk, nor have I ony fear.
But rather think ilk langsome day a year,
'Tilll wi' pleasure mount my bridal bed,
¥/her8 on my Patie's breast I'll lean my head^
There we may kiss asiang as kissing's good.
And what we do, there's nane dare ca' it rude.
lie's get his will ; why no ? tis good my part
To give him that, and he'll give me his h?-t?rt.

Jenmj, He may indeed for ten or iifteen days
Mak miekle o' ye wi' an unco fraise.
And daut ye,baith afore fowk and your lane ;
But soon as his newfangleness is gane,
liell look upon you as his tether-stake.
And think he's tint liis freedom for your sake.
Instead then of lang days of sweet delyte,
Ae day be dumb, and a' the neist he'll flyte ;
And may be, in his barlikhoods ne'er stick
To lend his loving wife a loundering lick.

Peggy, Sic coarse spun thoughts as tliae want pith
to move
My settled mind ; I'm o'er far gane in love.
Patie to me is dearer than my breath.



16

But want of him I dread nae other skaith.
There's nane of a' the herds that tread the green
Has sic a smile, or sic twa glancing een,
And then lie speaks wi' sic a taking art.
His words they tJiirlelike music thro' my heart.
How hlythely can he sport, and gently rave.
And jest at feckless fears that fright the lave.
Ilk day that he's alane upon the hill,
He reads fell books that teach him meikle skill.

He is but what need I say that or this?

I'd spend a month to tell you what he is !

In a' he says or does, there's sic agate,

'I'he rest seem coofs conipar'd wi' my dear Pate.

His better sense will lang his love secure ;

Ill-nature hefts in sauls that's weak and poor.

SANG V. Tune, IIoxv can I he sad on my, &c,

Hov/ sliall I be sad when a husband I hae.
That has better sense tlian ony of thac
Sour weak silly fidlows, that study like fools,
To sink their ain joy, and mak their wives snools.
The man wiio is prudent ne'er lightlies his wife.
Or wi' dull reproaches encourages strife ;
He pi'aises her virtues, and ne'er will abuse
Her for a small failing, but find an excuse.

Jenny, Hey bonny lass of Branksome ! or't be lang.
Your witty ^,te wiii put you in a sang.
'tis a pleasant tiling to be a bride ;
Syne whinging gets about your ingle side.
Yelping for this and that wi' fasheous din :
To mak them brats, then you maun toil and spin.
Ae wean fa's sick, ane scads itself wi' broe,
Ane breaks his shin, anither tines his shoe.
I'he deil gaes o'er Jock Wabster ; hame grows hell ;
Wien Pate misca's ye war than tongue can tell.

Peggy, Yes 'tis aheartsome thing to be a wife.
When round the ingle-edge young sprouts are rife,
Gif I'm sac happy, I shall hae delight
To hear their little plaints, and keep them right.
"Wow, Jenny ! can their greater pleasure be.
Than see sic wee tots toolying at your knee j



17

^\Tien a* they ettle at — tlieir greatest wisTi>
Is to be made of, and obtain a kiss ?
Can tlieir be toil in tenting day and night
The like o' them, when love makes care delight ?

Jenny. Butpoortith, Peggy, is the warst of a' ;
Gif o'er yonr heads ill chance should begg'ry draw;
For little love or canty chear can come
Frae duddy doublets, and a pantry toom :

Your nowt may die ^the spate may bear away

Fraeaff the howms your dainty rucks of hay
The thick blawn wreaths of snaw, or blashy thows.
May smoor yourwathers, and may rot your ews,
A dyver buys your butter, woo' and cheese.
But or the day of payment, breaks and flees.
"Wi* glooman brow the laird seeks in his rent;
^Tis no to gie, your merchant's to tlie bent ;
If is honour raauna want, he poinds your gear ;
Syne driv'n frae house and hald, where will ye steer?
Dear INIeg, be wise, and live a single life :
Troth it's nae mows to be a married wife.

Peggy. May sic ill luck befa' that silly she
Wha Ms sic fears, for that was never me.
I^etfowkbode well, and strive to do their best :
Nae mair's required ; let heav'n mak out the rest.
I've heard my honest uncle aften say,
I'hatlads should a' for wives that's virtuous pray;
For the maist thrifty man could never get
A weel stoi*'d room, unless his wife wad let ;
Wlierefore nocht shall be wanting on my part.
To gather wealth to raise my shepherd's heart.
"Whate'er he wins, I'll guide wi' canny care.
And win the vogue at market, tron or fair.
For halesome, clean, cheap, and sufficient ware.
A liock of Iambs, cheese, butter, and some woo.
Shall first be sauld to pay the laird his due.
Syne a' behinds our ain ; — thus without fear,
"Wi' love and routh we thro' the warld will steer ;
And when my Pate in bairns and gear grows rife.
He'll bless the day he gat me for a wife.

Jenny. But what if some young giglit on the green,
AVi' dimpled cheeks, and twa bewitching een,

J82



J



18

ShouM giip yourPatte think his half- worn Meg,
And her kend kisses hardly woilh a feg ?

Peggy. Nae niair o' that — Dear Jenny to he free,
Tliere's some men eonstanter in love than we ;
Nor is the ferly great, when nature kind
Has blest them wi' solidity of mind,
^rhcy'll reason calmly, and wi' kindness smile,
AVhen our short passions wad our peace beguile ;
Sac, whensoe'er they slight tbeir maiks at hame,
'Tis ten to ane their wives are maist to blame.
1'lien I'll eijiploy wi' pleasure a' my art,
'I'o keep liim ciiearfu' and secure his heart;
At ec'n when he comes weary f rae the hill,
1*11 lia'e a' things made reacly to his will ;
In v/ inter wlien he toils through wind and i*ain,
A bleezirig ingle, and a clean heai*th-stane ;
And soon as he lliags by his plaid and staflT,
The seething pat's be r<3ady to tak alf.


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Online LibraryJohn QuincyThe American medical lexicon, on the plan of Quincy's Lexicon physico-medicum, with many retrenchments, additions, and improvements; comprising an explanation of the etymology and signification of the terms used in anatomy, physiology, surgery, materia medica, chemistry, and the practice of physic. → online text (page 1 of 5)