From ''New Year’s morning, in Edinburgh; and Auld Handsel Monday, in the country: two poems in the Scottish dialect'', by the author of The shepherd’s wedding, Edinburgh, pp7-16 1792.

'''NEW YEAR'S MORNING,'''

'''''IN EDINBURGH.'''''

An' what suppose we're air asteer, I see nae evil in it; Sae here's that we may end the year Nae war than we begin it. ANON.

"The bard, (1) wha sang o' Hallow-fair, "The Daft Days, and Leith Races, "Wha's canty sangs dis kill our care, "In mony funny places; "Forgat to sing that mornin' air, "Whan lasses shaw their faces, "Wi' gude het pints, (2) maist ilka where, "Ye'll kep them gau'n in braces, Fu' soon that morn.

"Hail Hogmenae! (3), hail sunny night! "For daffin' an' for drinkin', "For makin' a' thing right and tight, "For killin' care an' thinkin'; "For rinnin' thro' the streets like drift, "For kissin' an' for clappin', "For clearin' up the mind an' fight "Wi' a weell-made het chapin', "Fu' strang that morn.

Now Mary a' thing right maun pit, Syne wash her little handy, Wha, think ye, was be her first fit (4), Bat her ain true love Sandy; Wha brings short-bread (5) as sweet's a nit, An' eke three gills o' brandy, Makes a het pint, syne down he'll fit, An' ablins sing the Dandy (6) To her that morn.

"By twal o'clock we tak' the street, "There reel about like mad, "While aft we get frae some we meet "O' gude short-bread a dad; "Then lasses' lips, like cherries sweet (7), "We maun that mornin' prie, "Though for't we get a braw red cheek, "Unless we be fu' flee "To jink that morn."

What signifies the warld's gear, Thae wad be silly asses, Wha wad compar't to the new-year, Whan wa'kin' wi' their lasses; Hear, hear, ye bardies, while I swear By that high mount Parnassus, Nought can excel the joys whan here We mark the sun that passes Upo' that morn.

On Hogmenae I sat up late, Mysell nae doubt adornin', As I intended to see Kate Fu' early on that mornin'; But lang ere I wan o'er the gate, I met a lassie gauntin', I squeez'd her hand, she lookit blate, Well kend I she was wantin' A kiss that mornin'.

I mak' nae doubt, but ane an' a' Ha'e heard the proclamation (8), Whilk ay is cry'd, to keep in awe The rising generation. But troth there is nae ane ava, Or low or high in station, But likes, nae doubt to tak' their blaw, Altho' in moderation, By times that morn.

The plainstanes now, frae en' to en', Are black wi' lads an' lasses, And some strang-bearded married men To mark an' see what passes; Thae ablins in the croud preten' To be but beardless youthies, An' stowlens they will mak' sen' To prie the lasses' mouthies Sae sweet that morn.

"Hech, wae's my heart, a barber lad "Did measure the street fairly, "An' roar'd an' rar'd like an stark mad, "He had fa'n till't o'er early' "A cellar, upo' the high street, "But ony ravel, bare, "Gart the puir scraper tyne his feet, "An' tumble down the stair, "The creels that morn.

O Tonal, Tonal, hurry out, Cry'd black Baldy Macauly, For yonder be some blackguards clout Ane o' our men, puir fallow; The guard on them came fly about, Tho' some did get aff brawly, Thay ae puir fuddl'd chiel did hook, An' guid him a rough haully To th' guard that morn.

"Some Highland blue (9) is unco gued, "As lang's we keep frae anger, "It pits fowk in a merry mood, "An' keeps them out o' langer; "But troth I'm fley'd that yon daft coof, "Wi's twa een in the glammer, "Wha dang aff Tonal's nose the scroof, "Maun thole the Bailie's yammer "For it next morn.

The clock had newly chapped ane, Whan to the street I rambl'd, An' up a lang dark stair alane, Wi' meikle faught, I scrambl'd; There I met wi' some hearty fowks, An' tho' I'm but a striplin', I e'en sat down to hear their jokes, An' soon we fell a-tipplin', Fu' air that morn.

A gaucy bowl they did bring in, Wi' sucker, rum, an' water, They fill'd it up near han' the brim, Syne a' began to clatter; For ilka ane did gi'e their toast, An' glasses roun' gaed clinkin', Till in a blink a' care was lost, Wi' dassin' an' wi' drinkin' Sae fast that morn.

Awee bit gabby callan than, I canna troth here miss him, Drank, May King GEORGE live weel an' lang, An' O may heaven bless him! Haud, haud, quo' Davy, ye are wrang, Nae war I'm sure I wiss him, Were ye like me, lad, by my sang, Ye'd frae your thoughts dismiss him, For anes this morn.

Here Davy he began to drink To th' memory of Charlie, While Duncan he begins to think, That it was nae done fairly; He fill'd his glass up to the brink, Till now he drank but sparely, Syne kiss'd its bottom in a blink, That was, quo' he, done rarely, I'm sure, this morn.

But Duncan, wae's my heart for him, Nae witch atweel at drinkin', Drank aff the flowin' bowl the skim, Sae it set him a-winkin'; Come fill my glass up to the brim, He cry'd, as he was sinkin', 'Twas done to please the devil's lim', But soon it sent him linkin', To sleep that morn.

Ae lass there was wi' sweet sweet breath, An unco bonny finger, An' that she was I'll gi'e my aith, Ye'll nae fin' sax to ding her; She sang sae sweet Auld Robin Gray, Next how Will courted Nancy, An' syne the Birks o' Invermay, These three pleas'd ilk ane's fancy 'T was there that morn

Now ilka chiel an' lassy there, Wi' drinkin' gude rum-tody, Were a' for ploys an' sportin' rare, For they did fear nae body; We parted a' gude frien's atweel, The sax hour bell was jowin', When ilka lass wi' her ain chiel Aff to their hames gaed rowin', Weel-sair'd that morn.

Auld Reikie's fam'd for a' that's rare, Porter an' oysters plenty, For ilka thing in season air, Braw lad an' lasses dainty. An' what suppose we're air asteer, I see nae evil in it; Sae here's that we may end the year, Nae war than we begin it, Fu' air that morn.

(1) Ferguson.

(2) ''Het pints''.--Among the lower classes of the people, in Scotland, it is customary for some person in each family to rise very early in new year's morning, and prepare a kind of caudle, consisting of ale mixed with eggs, beat up with sugar and a little spirits, preparted hot, which is carried through every apartment in a stoup (pot) containing a Scots pint, (two English quarts); and a cup of this is offered to each person when in bed. This beverage is technically called ''het'' (''i. e.'' hot) ''pints''.

(3) ''Hogmenae''--The last night of the year. A great deal of gossiping and sun goes on that evening. It was formerly the custom in the country for small parties of young people to go about from house to house disguised, and act a kind of play. These were called ''guisards''. That custom is now wearing out.

(4) ''First fit''.--The first person we meet on new year's morning is called our ''first fit'' (first foot).

(4) ''Short-bread''.--A kind of cake made of flour, with butter and sugar, and baked hard. That and other kinds of sweet cakes are then distributed liberally to all guests in every family.

(6) ''The Dandy''.--A favourite song, sung by Mr Moss in the character of Caleb in Mr Pillan's comedy called, He would be a Soldier.

(7) It was the universal custom in Scotland, till of late, for every male to salute, by kissing, every female of his acquaintance, the first time he met her in the new year.

(8) ''Proclamation''.--It is customary, every year, for one of the town-officers, attended by the city-guard drummer, to publish through the public streets of Edinburgh, a proclamation, at the desire of the Lord Provost and Magistrates, to give notice, that all who are found quarrelling, and knocking down harmless and sober people in the streets, will be severly punished, &c.

(9) ''Highland blue''.--Highland whisky.