I should suspect that I worshipped the devil If I thanked God for worldly things. The countless gold of a merry heart, The rubies and pearls of a loving eye, The idle man never can bring to the mart, Nor the cunning hoard up in his treasury. THE TWO SONGS I heard an angel singing, Thus he sang all day I heard a devil curse Over the heath and the furze: Are mercy, pity, peace." At his curse the sun went down, And the heavens gave a frown. LOVE'S SECRET Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told shall be; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my love, MINOR SCOTTISH POETS May peace and plenty be his lot, That's fond of Tullochgorum. But for the dirty, yawning fool, And discontent devour him! And nane say wae's me for 'im! May dool and sorrow be his chance, Wi' a' the ills that come frae France, Whae'er he be, that winna dance The reel of Tullochgorum. WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE (1735-1788) 305 I 2 And Jock his Sunday coat: 44 Shall we so sour and sulky sit, Gi'e little Kate her cotton gown, 16 Nor ever rise to shake a fit And mak' their shoon as black as slaes," 3 lively Scotch 7 twist 5 dull 6 taxes 3 MINOR SCOTTISH POETS Dool and wae for the order sent our lads to the Border! The English, for ance, by guile wan the day; The Flowers of the Forest, that fought aye the foremost, The prime of our land, lie cauld in the clay. 20 We'll hear nae more lilting at our ewe-milking, JOHN MAYNE (1759-1836) LOGAN BRAES By Logan's streams that rin sae deep But wae's my heart! thae2 days are gane, Nae mair, at Logan kirk, will he, At e'en when hope amaist is gane, 307 II When Charlie looked the letter upon, To flee awa' in the morning. For 'twill be bluidy in the morning. 15 20 24 saunter ' dreary Sae early in the morning. If I face them again, deil break my legs So I wish you a' gude morning." 36 ROBERT FERGUSSON (1750-1774) · 1 THE DAFT DAYS Now mirk December's dowie face Wi' blinkin light and stealing pace, From naked groves nae birdie sings; inquired 2 bashful such scares swords kilts • dreary 7 8 ridges dwindling |