() BEAUTY blooms bright in this village of ours!
What heart hath not felt its enlivening powers?
By mountain, by meadow, by streamlet, or strath,
Nae lassies ye'll find like the fair of Carnwath !
Our Jennies are handsome, our Jeanies are rare,
Wi' our Matties sae meek there's nane to compare ;
Where the sun looks in glory adown from his path,
He shines on nae lassies like ours in Carnwath!
Our Gracies might grace any meeting of beauty,
Our Marys might wile even a sentry frae duty;
The sailor mair danger ne'er met at Cape Wrath
Than to catch but a glimpse o' the fair o' Carnwath.
Our Beenies are bonnie, our Bells they are braw,
Our Maggies hae mony a heart stown awa';
Elsewhere, ilka rose a thorn in it hath,
But nane sic ye'll find in the flowers o' Carnwath.
Our Nannies are neat, our Nellies nae less,
Mair kind than our Katies ne'er keeked in a glass;
Auld Fame, clean thy trumpet and gie it full breath
In honour and praise o' the fair o' Carnwath!
Our Betties are beauties, our Fannies are fair,
Wi' our Mennies sae modest there's nane to compare;
Go tell it in Askelon, publish't in Gath-
We'll match the wide world wi' the fair o' Carnwath !
The author of the above was for many years schoolmaster of Carnwath. He was a gentleman of high talent, and wrote many pieces, but we believe this was the only one which ever appeared in print.
O WHERE will ye find sic braw lads as our ain,
You may search every island that gems the wide main,
You may search every mountain, and range ilka strath,
But ye'll never find lads like the lads o' Carnwath !
We've Adams-nane braver in battle e'er fell,
And for pleasing the lasses our Andrews excel;
Nae brawer chaps ever trod over the heath,
Than the Adams and Andrews we have in Carnwath.
Douce chiels are our Davies, and if there's a faut
It's blateness; but gie them a wee drap o' maut,
Then they'll laugh at a' danger, and even face death,
To mak braw lasses wives in toon o' Carnwath.
Our Johnnies are jolly, a' braw buirdly men,
And weel they can wield baith the sword and the pen ;
Frae the Yankees' far west, to the gates o' Somnauth,
Ye'll find none like the Johnnies we have in Carnwath.
Our Major is michty in science and arts;
He has been at the moon, and a' thae foreign parts; He has travelled the planets, and the far milky path; But could never find lads like the lads o' Carnwath.
So great is his genius, just oot o' mere fun,
A year or twa back he invented a gun
Of such terrible power-he could stand at Carnwath
And knock down his foe on the peak of Cape Wrath.
Our Maurice is meek, as a Moses should be,
While he gets his ain way; but just cross him a wee,
He'll drive a' afore him, as wind drives the chaff—
Beware o' the Maurice we hae in Carnwath.
Our Robins are rare, and our Tams are a treat,
And our Gudgets a budget of humour and wit;
Sublime are their sallies, and mony's the laugh,
Of the Gudgets and Robins we hae in Carnwath.
Our Watties are witty, our Willies are wise,
Their inventions have gien mony a ane a surprise;
"Ever onward" 's their motto-they tread glory's path,
And fresh laurels have heaped on the toon o' Carnwath.
And auld Mysie Broon, at the head o' the toon,
Has
very near seen a hale century wheel roun';
And auld Mysie says she can gie her great aith,
That she never saw lads like the lads o' Carnwath.
ΚΕΝ ye Katie Core o' Coulter?
Ken ye Katie Core o' Coulter ?
Nane can dance, or laugh, or sing,
Sae weel as Katie Core o' Coulter.
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter !
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter !
Nane can dance, or laugh, or sing,
Sae weel as Katie Core o' Coulter.
Our Katie's faither was a laird,
Katie was his only daughter;
Rowth o' gear an' lan's had she,
An' mony mony braw lads sought her.
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter, &c.
Katie had been rale weel schuled,
For she had a first-rate tutor;
An' she wasna to be fuled,
troth she lookit weel about her.
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter, &c.
Kate could discourse on kirk an' State, She ne'er met ane that could confute her; The minister had to retreat,
Whene'er he met wi' Kate o' Coulter.
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter, &c.
'Mang a' the belles o' Biggar toun,
'Mang a' the beauties roun' about her,
Kate stood the foremost o' them a',
Sae fair was Katie Core o' Coulter.
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter, &c.
An' scores o' wooers cam' an' swore
They couldna' live an hour without her;
Kate leuch, and pat them to the door,
An' tell't them no to dee in Coulter !
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter, &c.
A Hielan' laird, choke fu' o' pride,
Tried to come round her wi' his butter;
She kick't the breekless creature out,
An' tumbled him into the gutter.
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter, &c.
A gallant youth fresh frae Carnwath,
Cam' next-he was a pressing suitor,
He whispered something in her lug,
An' gained fair Katie Core o' Coulter.
Hey for Katie Core o' Coulter, &c.
O DULL and dreary is our hame,
Which ance was blythe and gay,
And sorrow's ta'en the place o' joy
Since Davie gaed away;
I ne'er kenned what it was to love,
Ne'er felt its witherin' pains,
Nor what it was to sigh and pine
Till Davie left Bankmains!
A' nature has put mournin' on,
The sun is dull and gray,
The very grass is no sae green
Since Davie gaed away;
The stars by nicht are no sae bricht,
An' cheerless are the plains,
The flowers have never raised their heads
Since Davie left Bankmains!
The neebours gibe an' taunt me now,
I'm pale and wan, they say;
The roses noo have left my cheeks
Since Davie gaed away.
My mother winna haud her tongue,
But mair and mair complains
That a' my spirit's sunk and gane
Since Davie's left Bankmains.
They took me to the dance yestreen
To drive away dull care,
But ah! it had nae charms for me,
For Davie wasna there.
The doctor's brought me -gude kens what!
Puir body, he's nae brains;
The best thing he could bring to me
Is Davie to Bankmains!
Bankmains was a small hamlet of four families within half a mile south of Carnwath; the houses are now all razed from the foundation. It was a most beautiful dwelling place.
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