CHRIST's KIRK on the GREEN; / In Two CANTO's. / CANTO the First, by King JAMES the Fifth.

CHRIST's KIRK on the GREEN; In Two CANTO's.

<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">CANTO</hi></hi> <hi rend="italic">the First, by King <hi rend="bold">JAMES</hi> the Fifth.</hi></seg>

WAS ne'er in Scotland heard nor seen Such Dancing and Deray? Neither at Faulkland on the Green, Nor Peebles at the Play, As was of Wooers as I ween At Christs Kirk on a Day; For there came Katie washen clean With her new Gown of Gray, Full Gay that Day. To Dance these Damosels them Dight, These Lasses light of Laits, Their Gloves were of the Raffal right, Their Shoes were of the Straits; Their Kirtles were of Lincoln-light, Well prest with many Plaits; They were so nice when Men they neigh'd They squell'd like any Gaits. Full loud that Day. Of all these Maidens mild as Mead, Was none so gimp as Gillie, As any Rose her Rude was red, Her Lire was like the Lillie, But Yellow, Yellow, was her Head, And she of Love so silly, Tho' all her Kin had sworn her Dead, She would have none but Willie Alone that Day. She scorn'd Jack, and scripp'd at him, And murgeon'd him with Mucks; He would have lov'd her, she would not let him For all his yellow Locks, He cherish'd her, she bade go chat him, She counted him not two Clocks: So shamefully his short Jack set him, His Legs were like two Rocks, Or Rungs that Day. Tom Lutter was their Minstrel meet, Good Lord, how he could Lance; He play'd so Shril, and Sang so Sweet While Tousie took a Trance: Old Lightfoot there he could forleet, And counterfitted France, He held him like a Man discreet, And up the Morice Dance, He took that Day. Then Stephen came stepping in with stends No Ring might him arrest; Splayfoot did bob with many bends, For Masie he made Request, He lap while he lay on his lends, And rising was so prest, While he did boast at both the Ends For Honour of the Feast, And Danc'd that Day. Then Robin Roy began to revel, And Tousie to him drugged: Let be, quoth Jack, and call'd him Jevel, And by the Tail him rugged, Then Kensie clicked to a Kevel, God wots as they two lugged: They parted there upon a Nevel, Men say, that Hair was rugged Between them Twa. With that a Friend of his cray'd fy, And forth an Arrow drew, He forged it so fiercefully, The Bow in flinders flew, Such was the Grace of God, trow I, For had the Tree been true; Men said, who knew his Archery, That he had slain anew, Belyve that Day.

A yap young Man that stood him neist, Soon bent his Bow in ire, And etled the Bairn in at the Breast, The Bolt flew ov'r the Bire: And cry'd fy, he hath Slain a Priest A Mile beyond the Mire: Both Bow and Bagg from him he kiest, And fled as fast as Fire From Flint that Day. An hasty Kins-man call'd Hary, That was an Archer keen, Tyed up a Tackle withoutten tarry, I trow the Man was teen: I wot not whether his Hand did vary, Or his Foe was his Friend: But he escap'd by the Mights of Mary As one that nothing mean'd But good that Day. Then Lawrie like a Lion lap, And soon a Flain could fedder: He height to pierce him at the Pape, Thereon to wed a Wedder: He hit him on the Wamb a wap, It buff't like any Bladder. He escaped so, such was his hap; His Doublet was of Leather Full fine that Day. The Buff so boisterously abaist him, That he to the Earth dusht down, The other Man for Dead there left him, And fled out of the Town. The Wives came forth, and up they rest him And found Life in the Lown; Then with three routs they raised him And cur'd him out of sown, Fra Hand that Day. The Miller was of manly make, To meet him it was no Mowes: There durst not Ten-some there him take So cowed be their Powes, The Bushment whole about him brake And bicker'd him with Bows, Then traiterously behind his Back, They hack'd him on the Howes Behind that Day. Then Hutchon with a Hazel Rice To red gan through them rummil: He muddl'd them down like any Mice He was no petty bummil, Tho' he was Wight, he was not Wise, With such jutors to jummil: For from his Thumb there flew a slice, While he cry'd barlafummil, I'm Slain this Day. When that he saw his Blood so red To flee might no Man let him: He trow'd it had been for old feed; He thought and bade have at him. He made his Feet defend his Head, The far fairer it set him, While he was past out of their Dread: They must be swift that gat him. Through Speed that Day. Two that were Heads-men of the Herd, They rush'd on other like Rams: The other Four which were unfear'd Beat on with Barrow Trams. And where their gobs they were ungear'd They gat upon the Gams, While that all Bloody was their Beards, As they had worried Lambs, Most l[i]ke that Day.

They girn'd and glowred all at anes, Each Gossip other grieved: Some striked Stings, some gathered Stanes, Some fled, and some Relieved. The Minstrel used quiet Means, That Day he wisely prieved, For he came hame with unbruis'd Banes, Where Fighters were mischiev'd, Full ill that Day. With Forks and Flails they lent them slaps And flew together with Frigs; With Bougers of Barns they pierc'd blew Caps And of their Bairns made Brigs: The Rare rose rudely with their Raps, Then Rungs were laid on Rigs: The Wives came forth with Cries and Claps, See where my Liking Ligs, Full low this Day. The black Souter of Braith was bowden, His Wife hang at his Waist: His Body was in Black all browden, He girned like a Ghaist. Her glittering Hair was so gowden, Her Love fast from him Laist, That for his Sake she was unyawden, While he a Mile was chaist, And mair that Day. When they had beir'd like baited Bulls, The Bone-fires burnt like Bails, And then they grew as meek as Mules That wearied are with Mails; For those forfoughten tyred Fools, Fell down like slaughter'd Frails, Fresh Men came in and hail'd the Dools, And dang them down in Dails, Bedeen that Day. The Wives then gave a hideous yell, When all these Yonkiers yoked, As fierce as Flags of Fire-flaughts fell, Frieks to the Field they flocked, The Carles with Clubs did others quell On Breast while Blood out boaked, So rudely rang the Common-bell, That all the Steeple rocked For Dread that Day. By this Tom Tailor was in his Gear, When he heard the Common-bell, He said, he should make all a Stear When he came there himsell, He went to fight with such a Fear, While to the Ground he fell, A Wife that hat him on the Ear, With a great knocking Mell, Fell'd him that Day. The Bridegroom brought a Pint of Ale, And bade the Piper Drink it, Drink it quoth he, and it so Stale, Ashrew me if I think it. The Bride her Maidens stood near by, And said, it was not Blinked, And Bartagesie the Bride so gay, Upon him fast she winked Full soon that Day. When all was done Dick with an Ax Came forth to fell a Fother, Quoth he, where are you whoreson smaiks Right now that hurt my Brother? His Wife bade him go hame Gib Glaiks, And so did Meg his Mother; He turn'd and gave them both their Paiks For he durst ding no other, But them that Day.

The END of the First CANTO.

<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">CANTO II. <hi rend="bold">by</hi> Allan Ramsey.</hi></seg>

Consider it werly, Read oftner than anys, Wiel at an Blenk sle Poetry not Tane is. G. DOUGLAS.

BUT there had bin mair Blood and Skaith Sair Harship and great Spulzie, And mony a ane had gotten his Death By this unsonsie Tooly: But that the bald Good-wife of Braith Arm'd wi a great Kale Gully, Came Belly flaught and loot an Aith She'd gar them a be hooly, Fou fast that Day. Blyth to win aff sae wi hale Banes, Tho' mony had clowr'd Pows, And dragl'd sae 'mang Muck and Stanes They look'd like wirry Kows: Quoth some who 'maist had tint their Aynds, Let's see how a Bowls rows, And quat this Brouillement at anes, You Gully is nae Mows. Forsooth this Day. Quoth Hutchon, I am well content, I think we may do war, 'Till this Time Toumond I'se indent Our Claiths of Dirt will sa'r: Wi Nevels I'm amaist fawn faint, My Chafts are dung a char: Then took his Bonnet, to the Bent And dadded aff the Glar, Fou clean that Day. Tam Taylor wha in Time of Battle Lay as gin some had fell'd him, Gat up now wi an unky Rattle, As nane there durst a quell'd him; Bald Bess flew till him wi a Brattle, And spite of's Teeth she held him Closs by the Craig, and with her fatal Knife Shoar'd She would Geld him, For Peace that Day. Syne e wi ae Consent shook Hands, As they stood in a Ring; Some redd their Hair, some set their Bands, Some did their Sark Tails wring; Then for a Happ upo' the Sands They did their Minstrel bring, Whare clever Houghs like Willi-wands At ilky blythsome Spring, Lap high that Day. Claud Peky was na very blate, He stood na lang a beigh; For be the Wame he gripped Kate, And gard her gee a Skreigh; Had aff, quoth she, ye filthy Slate, Ye stink o' Leeks, O figh, Let gae my Hands, I say, be quait, And wow gin she was Skreigh, And mim that Day. Now settl'd Gossies sat, and keen Did for fresh Bickere birle, While the young Swankies on the Green Took round a merry Tirle: Meg Wallet wi her pinky Een Gart Lawries Heart-strings dirle, And Folk wad threep that she did green For that wad gar her Skirle, And Skreigh some Day. The manly Miller haff and haff Came out to shaw good Will, Flang by his Mittens and his Staff, Cry'd, Gee me Patties Mill: He lap Bawk-high, and cry'd, had aff, They rus'd him that had Skill; He wad do't better quoth a Caf, Had he another Gill, Of Usquebae.

Furth started niest a pensy Blade, And out a Maiden took, They sayd that he was Faulkland bred, And danced by the Book, A souple Taylor to his Trade, And when their Hands he shook, Gae them what he gat fra his Dad, Videlicet, the Youke, To Claw that Day. Whan a cry'd out he did sae well, He Meg and Bess did call up: The Lasses babb'd about the Reel, Gar'd a their Hurdies wallop, And swat like Pownies whan they speel Up Braes, or when they gallop, But a thrawn Knublock took his Heel, And Wives had him to hawl up, Haff fell'd that Day. But mony a pauky Look and Tale Gae'd round whan Glouming hous'd them The Osler Wife brought ben good Ale, And bade the Laffes rouze them; Up wi them Lads, and I'se be Bail They'l loo ye and ye touze them: Quoth Gaussie, this will never fail, Wi them that this gate woo's them On sic a Day. Syn Stoles and Furms were drawn aside, And up raise Willie Dadle, A short Hought Man, but fow o' Pride, He said the Fidler Play'd ill. Let's hae the Pipes, quoth he, beside, Quoth a, that is nae said ill: He fitted the Floor, syne wi the Bride, To Cuttyspoon and Treeladle, Thick, thick that Day. In the mean Time in came the Laird, And by some Right did claim To Kiss and Dance wi Masie Aird, A dink and dortie Dame. But O poor Mause was aff her guard, For Back-gate frae her Wame, Bekkin, she lot a fearfou Raird, That gart her think great Shame, And blush that Day. Auld Steen led out Maggie Forsyth, He was her ain Good Brither; And ilky ane was unky blyth To see ald Folk sae clever. Quo Jock, wi laughing like to rive, What think ye o' my Mither? Were my Dad dead, let me ne'er thrive But she wad get anither, Goodman this Day. Tam Lutter had a muckle Dish, And betwixt ilky Tune He laid his Lugs, in't like a Fish, And suckt till it was done: His Bags were Liquor'd to his Wish, His Face was like a Moon: But he cou'd get nae Place to Pish in, but his ain twa Shoon For thrang that Day. The Leter-gae of Hally Rhime Sat up at the Boord-head, And a he said was thought a Crime to contradict indeed. For in Clark Lear he was right prime, And cou'd baith Write and Read, He drank sae firm till ne'er a styme He cou'd keek on a Bead, Or Book that Day.

When he was Strute twa sturdy Chield Be his Oxter and be's Coller, Held up frae couping o' the Creels The liquid Logick Schollar. When he came hame his Wife did Reel And Rampadge in her Choler, With that he brake her Spinning-wheel, That cost a good Rix Dollar, And mair some say. Near Bed-time now ilk weary Wight Were gaunting for their Rest, For some were like to tyne their Sight Wi Sleep and Drinking strest. But others that were Stomach Tight Cry'd out, It was nae best To leave a Supper that was Dight, To Brownies, or a Ghaist To Eat that Day. On whomelt Tubs lay twa lang Dails, On them stood mony a Goan, Some fill'd wi Brachen, some wi Kail, And Milk heat frae the Loan. Of Daintiths they had Routh and Wale, Of which they were right fon; But naithing wad gae down but Ale Wi drunken Donald Don The Smith, that Day. Twice aught Bannocks in a Heap, And twa good Junts of Beef, Wi Hind and Fore-spawl of a Sheep, Drew whittles frae ilk Sheath: Wi Gravie a their Beards did dreep, They Kempit with their Teeth, A Kebuck syne that 'maist cou'd creep It's lane, pat on the Sheaf In Stows that Day. The Bride was now laid in her Bed, Her left Leg Ho was flung; And Geordie Gib was fidgen glad, Because it hit Jean Gun: She was his Jo, and aft had said, Fy, Geordie, had your Tongue, Ye's ne'er get me to be your Bride, But chang'd her Mind when bung, That very Day. Tchee! quo' Touzie, whan she saw The Cathel coming ben, It pypin heat gae'd round them a, The Bride she made a fen, To sit in Wyliecoat sae braw, Upon her neither End, Her Lad like ony Cock did Craw, That meets a Clockin Hen, And blyth were they. The Souter, Miller, Smith, and Dick, Lawrie and Hutchon bauld, Carles that keep nae very strict Be Hours, tho' they were auld; Nor cou'd they e're leave aff that Trick, But whare good Ale was sald, They drank a Night, e'ne tho' auld Nick Shou'd tempt their Wives to scald Them for't next Day. Was ne'er in Scotland heard or seen Sic Banquetting and Drinking, Sic Revelling and Battles keen, Sic Dancing, and sic Jinkin: And unko Wark that fell at E'ne, Whan Lasses were haff Winkin, They lost their Feet, and baith their Een, And Maidenheads gae'd Linkin Aff, a that Day.

FINIS.