So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without one if or but-
That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,
By daylight or candle-light-Eyes should be shut!
He talked of daggers and of darts,
Of passions and of pains,
Of weeping eyes and wounded hearts,
Of kisses and of chains;
He said, though love was kin to grief,
He was not born to grieve;
He said, though many rued belief,
She safely might believe.
But still the lady shook her head,
And swore by yea and nay,
My Whole was all that he had said
And all that he could say.
He said my First, whose silent car
Was slowly wandering by,
Veiled in a vapour faint and far
Through the unfathomed sky,
Was like the smile whose rosy light
Across her young lips passed,
Yet, oh! it was not half so bright,
It changed not half so fast.
But still the lady shook her head,
And swore by yea and nay,
My Whole was all that he had said
And all that he could say.
And then he set a cypress wreath
Upon his raven hair,
And drew his rapier from its sheath-
Which made the lady stare;
And said his life blood's purple glow
My Second there should dim,
If she he loved and worshipped so
Would only weep for him!
But still the lady shook her head
And swore by yea and nay,
My Whole was all that he had said
And all that he could say '
JOHN BARLEYCORN.
There were three kings into the East,
Three kings both great and high,
And they have sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
They took a plough and ploughed him down,
Put clods upon his head,
And they have sworn a solemn oath,
John Barleycorn was dead.
But the cheerful spring came kindly on,
And showers began to fall;
John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surprised them all.
The sultry suns of summer came,
And he grew thick and strong.
His head well armed wi' pointed spears,
That no one should him wrong.
The sober autumn entered mild,
When he grew wan and pale;
His bending joints and drooping head
Showed he began to fail.
His colour sickened more and more,
He faded into age;
And then his enemies began
To show their deadly rage.
They've ta'en a weapon long and sharp,
And cut him by the knee;
And tied him fast upon the cart,
Like a rogue for forgerie.
They laid him down upon his back,
And cudgelled him full sore;
They hung him up before the storm,
And turned him o'er and o'er.
They filled up a darksome pit,
With water to the brim;
They heaved in John Barleycorn,
There let him sink or swim.
They laid him out upon the floor,
To work him further woe,
And still, as signs of life appeared,
They tossed him to and fro.
They wasted, o'er a scorching flame,
The marrow of his bones;
But a miller used him worst of all,
For he crushed him between two stones.
And they have ta'en his very heart's blood,
And drank it round and round;
And still the more and more they drank,
Their joy did more abound.
John Barleycorn was a hero bold
Of noble enterprise;
For if you do but taste his blood,
"Twill make your courage rise.
Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand;
And may his great posterity
Ne'cr fail in old Scotland!
THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE.
A forward hare, of swiftness vain,
The genius of the neighbouring plain,
Would oft deride the drudging crowd:
For geniuses are ever proud.
He'd boast his flight 'twere vain to follow,
For dog and horse he'd beat them hollow ;-
Nay, if he put forth all his strength,
Outstrip his brethren half a length.
A tortoise heard his vain oration,
And vented thus his indignation:
"Oh puss it bodes thee dire disgrace
When I defy thee to a race.
Come, 'tis a match; nay, no denial,
I lay my shell upon the trial."
"Twas "done" and "done" all fair, "a bet,"
Judges prepared, and distance set.
The scampering hare outstripped the wind;
The creeping tortoise lagged behind,
And scarce had passed a single pole
When puss had almost reached the goal.
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