Fays, Spunkies, Kelpies, a', they can explain them, And ev❜n the vera deils they brawly ken them.) Auld Brig appear'd of Ancient Pictish race, The vera wrinkles Gothic in his face: He feem'd as he wi' Time had warftl'd lang, The Goth was ftalking round with anxious fearch, Spying the time-worn flaws in ev'ry arch; It chanc'd his new-come neeber took his e'e, And e'en a vex'd and angry heart had he! Wi' thievelefs fneer to fee his modifh mien, He, down the water, gies him this guideen AULD BRIG. I DOUBT na, frien', ye'll think ye're nae fheep thank, Ance ye were ftreekit o'er frae bank! But gin ye be a brig as auld as me, bank to Tho' faith that day I doubt, ye'll never fee; There'll be, if that date come, I'll wad a boddle, Some fewer whigmeleeries in your noddle. NEW BRIG. AULD Vandal, ye but fhew your little menfe, Juft much about it wi' your scanty fense; Will Will your poor, narrow foot-path of a street, Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet, Your ruin'd, formlefs bulk o' ftane an' lime, Compare wi' bonie Brigs o' modern time? There's men o' tafte wou'd tak the Ducat stream*, Tho' they should caft the vera fark and fwim, E'er they would grate their feelings wi' the view Of fic an ugly, Gothic hulk as you. AULD BRIG. CONCEITED gowk !puff'd up wi' windy pride; This mony a year I've ftood the flood an' tide; And *A noted ford, just above the Auld Brig. And tho' wi' crazy eild I'm fair forfairn, I'll be a Brig, when ye're a fhapelefs cairn better. As yet ye little ken about the matter, Or ftately Lugar's moffy fountains boil, Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course, Or haunted Garpal* draws his feeble fource, Arouf'd *The banks of Garpal Water is one of the few places in the West of Scotland, where those fancy scaring beings, known by the name of Ghaists, still continue pertinaciously to inhabit. Arous'd by bluft'ring winds and fpotting thewes, In mony a torrent down the fna-broo rowes; While crashing ice, borne on the roaring fpeat, Sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate; And from Glenbuck, down to the Ratton Keyt, Auld Ayr is just one lengthen'd tumbling fea; Then down ye'll hurl, deil nor ye never rife! And dash the gumlie jaups up to the pouring fkies. The source of the river of Ayr. A small landing place above the large key. A leffon |