LEITH RACES.

And wha are ye, my winsome dear,
That taks the gate sae early?
Whare do ye win, gin ane may spier;
For I right meikle ferly,

That sic braw buskit laughin lass
Thir bonny blinks shou'd gie,

And loup, like Hebe, owre the grass,

As wanton, and as free

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Frae dool this day??

"I dwall amang the caller springs "That weet the Land o' Cakes,

"And aften tune my canty strings

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"At bridals and late-wakes.

They ca' me MIRTH-I ne'er was kend

"To grumble or look sour;

"But blithe wad be a lift to lend,

"Gif ye wad sey my power,

And pith, this day.”

LEITH RACES.

A bargain be't; and by my fegs!
Gif ye will be my mate,

ᎳᎥ I'll screw the cheery pegs;
you

Ye shanna find me blate:

We'll reel and ramble thro' the sands,

And jeer wi' a' we meet;

Nor hip the daft and gleesome bands

That fill Edina's street

Sae thrang this day.

Ere servant-maids had wont to rise
To seethe the breakfast kettle,
Ilk dame her brawest ribbons tries,
To put her on her mettle,

Wi' wiles some silly chiel to trap,

(And troth he's fain to get her); But she'll craw kniefly in his crap, When, wow! he canna flit her

Frae hame that day.

LEITH RACES.

'Now, mony a scaw'd and bare-ars'd loun

Rise early to their wark:

Enough to fley a muckle town,

Wi' dinsome squeel and bark.

"Here is the true and faithfu' list

"O' Noblemen and Horses;

"Their eild, their weight, their height, their grist, "That rin for plates or purses,

"Fu' fleet this day."

To whisky plouks that brunt for ouks
On town-guard sodgers' faces,

Their barber bauld his whittle crooks

And scrapes them for the races. Their stumps, erst used to philibegs, Are dight in spatterdashes,

Whase barkent hides scarce fend their legs

Frae weet and weary plashes

O' dirt that day.

LEITH RACES.

"Come, hafe a care (the Captain cries), "On guns your bagnets thraw; "Now mind your manual exercise, "And marsh down raw by raw." And as they march, he'll glowr about, 'Tent a' their cuts and scars:

'Mang them fell mony a gawsy snout Has gusht in birth-day wars,

Wi' blude that day.

Her nainsel maun be carefu' now,
Nor maun she be mislear'd,

Sin baxter lads hae seal'd a vow,

To skelp and clout the guard.

I'm sure Auld Reikie kens o' nane

That wad be sorry at it,

Tho' they should dearly pay the kain,

And get their tails weel sautit,

And sair, thir days.

LEITH RACES.

The tinkler billies i' the Bow,

"Are now less eident clinkin; As lang's their pith or sifler dow, They're daffin and they're drinkin. Bedown Leith Walk, what burrachs reel, O' ilka trade and station,

That gar their wives and childer feel

Toom wames, for their libation

O' drink thir days!

The browster wives thegither harl
A' trash that they can fa' on;
They rake the grunds o' ilka barrel,
To profit by the lawen:

For weel wat they, a skin leal het
For drinkin needs nae hire;

At drumly gear they tak nae pet;

Foul water slockens fire,

And drouth, thir days.