To dip her left sark-sleeve in, Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As through the glen it wimpl't; Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays, Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't; Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle; Whyles cookit underneath the braes, Below the spreading hazel, Unseen that night.

Amang the brackens on the brae, Between her an' the moon, The deil, or else an outler quey, Gat up an' gae a croon: Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool!

Near lav'rock-height she jumpit, But mist a fit, an' in the pool Out-owre the lugs she plumpit, Wi' a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane, The luggies three[42] are ranged, And ev'ry time great care is ta'en, To see them duly changed: Auld uncle John, wha wedlock's joys Sin Mar's-year did desire, Because he gat the toom-dish thrice, He heav'd them on the fire In wrath that night.

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks, I wat they did na weary; An' unco tales, an' funnie jokes, Their sports were cheap an' cheery; Till b.u.t.ter'd so'ns[43] wi' fragrant lunt, Set a' their gabs a-steerin'; Syne, wi' a social gla.s.s o' strunt, They parted aff careerin'

Fu' blythe that night.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 28: Is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other mischief-making beings are all abroad on their baneful midnight errands: particularly those aerial people, the Fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand anniversary.]

[Footnote 29: Certain little, romantic, rocky green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Ca.s.silis.]

[Footnote 30: A noted cavern near Colean-house, called the Cove of Colean which, as well as Ca.s.silis Downans, is famed in country story for being a favourite haunt of fairies.]

[Footnote 31: The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the great deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.]

[Footnote 32: The first ceremony of Halloween is pulling each a stock, or plant of kail. They must go out, hand-in-hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their spells--the husband or wife. If any yird, or earth, stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the custoc, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or, to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the Christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question.]

[Footnote 33: They go to the barn-yard, and pull each at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed anything but a maid.]

[Footnote 34: When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old timber, &c., makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a fause-house.]

[Footnote 35: Burning the nuts is a famous charm. They name the lad and la.s.s to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire, and according as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the courtship will be.]

[Footnote 36: Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions: Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot a clue of blue yarn; wind it in a clue off the old one; and towards the latter end, something will hold the thread; demand "wha hauds?" i.e. who holds? an answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, naming the Christian and surname of your future spouse.]

[Footnote 37: Take a candle, and go alone to a looking-gla.s.s; eat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the gla.s.s, as if peeping over your shoulder.]

[Footnote 38: Steal out unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp-seed, harrowing it with anything you can conveniently draw after you.

Repeat, now and then, "Hemp-seed, I saw thee; hemp-seed, I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true love, come after me and pou thee." Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the att.i.tude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, "Come after me, and shaw thee," that is, show thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, "Come after me, and harrow thee."]

[Footnote 39: This charm must likewise be performed, unperceived, and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges, if possible; for there is danger that the being about to appear may shut the doors and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country dialect, we call a wecht; and go through all the att.i.tudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time, an apparition will pa.s.s through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue marking the employment or station in life.]

[Footnote 40: Take an opportunity of going unnoticed, to a bean stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow.]

[Footnote 41: You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south running spring or rivulet, where "three lairds' lands meet," and dip your left shirt-sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake: and, some time near midnight, an apparition having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.]

[Footnote 42: Take three dishes: put clean water in one, foul water in another, and leave the third empty; blindfold a person and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand: if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony a maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times, and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.]

[Footnote 43: Sowens, with b.u.t.ter instead of milk to them, is always the Halloween supper.]

XXVI.

MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.

A DIRGE.

[The origin of this fine poem is alluded to by Burns in one of his letters to Mrs. Dunlop: "I had an old grand-uncle with whom my mother lived in her girlish years: the good old man was long blind ere he died, during which time his highest enjoyment was to sit and cry, while my mother would sing the simple old song of 'The Life and Age of Man.'" From that truly venerable woman, long after the death of her distinguished son, Cromek, in collecting the Reliques, obtained a copy by recitation of the older strain. Though the tone and sentiment coincide closely with "Man was made to Mourn," I agree with Lockhart, that Burns wrote it in obedience to his own habitual feelings.]

When chill November's surly blast Made fields and forests bare, One ev'ning as I wandered forth Along the banks of Ayr, I spy'd a man whose aged step Seem'd weary, worn with care; His face was furrow'd o'er with years, And h.o.a.ry was his hair.

"Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou?"

Began the rev'rend sage; "Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain, Or youthful pleasure's rage?

Or haply, prest with cares and woes, Too soon thou hast began To wander forth, with me to mourn The miseries of man.

"The sun that overhangs yon moors, Out-spreading far and wide, Where hundreds labour to support A haughty lordling's pride: I've seen yon weary winter-sun Twice forty times return, And ev'ry time had added proofs That man was made to mourn.

"O man! while in thy early years, How prodigal of time!

Misspending all thy precious hours, Thy glorious youthful prime!

Alternate follies take the sway; Licentious pa.s.sions burn; Which tenfold force gives nature's law, That man was made to mourn.

"Look not alone on youthful prime, Or manhood's active might; Man then is useful to his kind, Supported in his right: But see him on the edge of life, With cares and sorrows worn; Then age and want--oh! ill-match'd pair!-- Show man was made to mourn.

"A few seem favorites of fate, In pleasure's lap carest: Yet, think not all the rich and great Are likewise truly blest.

But, oh! what crowds in every land, All wretched and forlorn!

Thro' weary life this lesson learn-- That man was made to mourn.

"Many and sharp the num'rous ills Inwoven with our frame!

More pointed still we make ourselves, Regret, remorse, and shame!

And man, whose heaven-erected face The smiles of love adorn, Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn!

"See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight, So abject, mean, and vile, Who begs a brother of the earth To give him leave to toil; And see his lordly fellow-worm The poor pet.i.tion spurn, Unmindful, though a weeping wife And helpless offspring mourn.

"If I'm design'd yon lordling's slave-- By Nature's law design'd-- Why was an independent wish E'er planted in my mind?

If not, why am I subject to His cruelty or scorn?

Or why has man the will and power To make his fellow mourn?

"Yet, let not this too much, my son, Disturb thy youthful breast; This partial view of human-kind Is surely not the best!

The poor, oppressed, honest man Had never, sure, been born, Had there not been some recompense To comfort those that mourn!

"O Death! the poor man's dearest friend-- The kindest and the best!

Welcome the hour, my aged limbs Are laid with thee at rest!

The great, the wealthy, fear thy blow, From pomp and pleasure torn!

But, oh! a blest relief to those That weary-laden mourn."