Роберт Андерсон (Robert Anderson)

The Clay Daubin

We went owre to Deavie' Clay Daubin,
And faith a rare caper we had,
Wi' eatin, and drinkin, and dancin,
And rwoarin, and singin leyke mad;
Wi' crackin, and jwokin, and braggin,
And fratchin, and feightin and aw;
Sec glorious fun and divarsion
Was ne'er seen in castle or haw.
Sing hey for a snug clay biggin,
And lasses that leyke a bit spwort;
Wi' friens and plenty to gi'e them,
We'll laugh at King Gworge and his cwort.

The waws were aw finish'd er darknin;
Now, greypes, shouls, and barrows thrown by,
Auld Deavie spak up wid a hursle--
`Od rabbit it! lads, ye'll he dry;
`See, deame, if we've got a swope whusky--
`I's sworry the rum bottle's duin--
`We'll starken our keytes, I'll uphod us--
`Come, Adams, rasp up a lal tune!'

When Bill kittl'd up ``Chips and Shavins,''
Auld Philip poud out Matty Meer,
Then nattl'd his heels like a youngen,
And caper'd about the clay fleer;
He deeted his gob, and he buss'd her,
As lish as a lad o' sixteen;
Cries Wull, `Od dy! fadder's i' fettle!
`His marrow 'll niver be seen!'

Reet sair did we miss Jemmy Coupland--
Bad crops, silly man, meade him feale;
Last Sunday fwornuin, efter sarvice,
I'th' kurk--garth, the clark caw'd his seale.
Peer Jemmy! of aw his bit oddments
A shettle the bealies ha'e ta'en,
And now he's reet fain of a darrak,
For pan, dish, or spuin, he hes neane.

Wi' scons, leather--hungry, and whusky,
Auld Aggy cried, `Meake way for me!
`Ye men fwok, eat, drink and be murry,
`Wheyle we i' the bower get tea.'
The whillymer eat teugh and teasty,
Aw cramm'd fou o' grey pez and seeds;
They row'd it up teane agean tudder--
Nae dainties the hungry man needs.

Now in com the women fwok buncing--
Widout tem there's niver nee fun;
Wi' whusky aw weeted their wizzens,
But suin a sad hay--bay begun;
For Jock, the young laird, was new wedded,
His auld sweetheart Jenny luik'd wae;
While some were aw titterin and flyrin,
The lads rubb'd her down wi' pez strae.

Rob Lowson tuik part wi' peer Jenny,
And brong snift'ring Gwordie a cluff;
I'th' scuffle they leam'd Lowson' mudder,
And fain they'd ha'e stripp'd into buff:
Neist Peter caw'd Gibby a rebel,
And aw rwoar'd out, that was wheyte wrang;
Cried Deavie, `Shek hans, and nae mair on't--
`I's sing ye a bit of a sang.'

He lilted ``The King and the Tinker,''
And Wully strack up ``Robin Hood;''
Dick Mingins tried ``Hooly and Fairly,''
And Martha ``The Babs o' the Wood:''
They push'd round a glass leyke a noggin,
And bottom'd the greybeard complete;
Then crack'd till the muin glowr'd amang them,
And wish'd yen anudder guid neet. 

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