The Canongate Burns. Robert Burns

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       One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

      GOLDSMITH.

      ‘The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those unaquainted with the manners and traditions of the country [region] where the scene is cast, notes are added, to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry of the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among the more unenlightened in our own.’

      To this headnote, Burns defines Halloween thus: ‘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.’

      R.B.

      Upon that night, when Fairies light

On Cassilis Downans1 dance,

      Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, over, fields

      On sprightly coursers prance;

      5 Or for Colean the rout is taen, Culzean, taken

      Beneath the moon’s pale beams;

There, up the Cove2, to stray and rove,

      Amang the rocks and streams

      To sport that night:

      10 Amang the bonie winding banks,

      Where Doon rins, wimplin, clear; runs, winding

Where BRUCE3 ance ruled the martial ranks, once

      An’ shook his Carrick spear;

      Some merry, friendly, country-folks

      15 Together did convene,

      To burn their nits, an’ pou their stocks, nuts, pull

      An’ haud their Halloween hold

      Fu’ blythe that night.

      The lassies feat, an’ cleanly neat, trim

      20 Mair braw than when they’re fine; more fair

      Their faces blythe fu’ sweetly kythe show

      Hearts leal, an’ warm, an’ kin’: loyal, kind

      The lads sae trig, wi’ wooer-babs so spruce, love-knots

      Weel-knotted on their garten; well, garters

      25 Some unco blate, an’ some wi’ gabs very shy, chatting up

      Gar lasses’ hearts gang startin make, go beating

      Whyles fast at night. sometimes

      Then, first an’ foremost, thro’ the kail, cabbage-plot

Their stocks4 maun a’ be sought ance; shall, once

      30 They steek their een, an’ grape an’ wale close, eyes, grope, choose

      For muckle anes, an’ straught anes. big ones, straight ones

      Poor hav’rel Will fell aff the drift, half-witted, lost the way

      An’ wandered thro’ the Bow-kail, cabbage

      An’ pow’t, for want o’ better shift, pulled

      35 A runt, was like a sow-tail, small cabbage stalk

      Sae bow’t that night. so bent

      Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane, straight, dirt, none

      They roar an’ cry a’ throu’ther; pell-mell

      The vera wee-things, toddlin, rin very children, run

      40 Wi’ stocks out-owre their shouther: -over, shoulder

      An’ gif the custock’s sweet or sour, if, pith

      Wi’ joctelegs they taste them; knives

      Syne coziely, aboon the door, then, comfortably, above

      Wi’ cannie care, they’ve plac’d them gentle

      45 To lye that night. lie

      The lasses staw frae ’mang them a’, stole, from, among them all

To pou their stalks o’ corn;5 pull

      But Rab slips out, an’ jinks about, dodges

      Behint the muckle thorn: large

      50 He grippet Nelly hard an’ fast; gripped

      Loud skirl’d a’ the lasses; screamed

      But her tap-pickle maist was lost, top amount mostly

Whan kiutlan in the Fause-house6 when cuddling, corn drier

      Wi’ him that night.

55 The auld Guidwife’s weel-hoordet nits7 old, good-, well-hoarded nuts

      Are round an’ round divided,

      An’ monie lads’ an’ lasses’ fates many

      Are there that night decided:

      Some kindle couthie, side by side, warm comfortably

      60 An’ burn thegither trimly; together

      Some start awa wi’ saucy pride, away

      An’ jump out-owre the chimlie -over, fireplace

      Fu’ high that night.

      Jean slips in twa, wi’ tentie e’e; two, watchful eye

      65 Wha ’twas, she wadna tell; who, would not

      But this is Jock, an’ this is me,

      She says in to hersel:

      He СКАЧАТЬ