Pretty Peg

On Being Shewn A Beautiful Country Seat

Belonging to the same Laird.

We grant they’re thine, those beauties all, So lovely in our eye; Keep them, thou eunuch, Cardoness, For others to enjoy!

On Hearing It Asserted Falsehood

is expressed in the Rev. Dr. Babington’s very looks.

That there is a falsehood in his looks, I must and will deny: They tell their Master is a knave, And sure they do not lie.

On A Suicide

Earth’d up, here lies an imp o’ hell, Planted by Satan’s dibble; Poor silly wretch, he’s damned himsel’, To save the Lord the trouble.

On A Swearing Coxcomb

Here cursing, swearing Burton lies, A buck, a beau, or “Dem my eyes!” Who in his life did little good, And his last words were “Dem my blood!”

On An Innkeeper Nicknamed “The Marquis”

Here lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm’d, If ever he rise, it will be to be damn’d.

On Andrew Turner

In se’enteen hunder’n forty-nine, The deil gat stuff to mak a swine, An’ coost it in a corner; But wilily he chang’d his plan, An’ shap’d it something like a man, An’ ca’d it Andrew Turner.

As I gaed up by yon gate-end, When day was waxin’ weary, Wha did I meet come down the street, But pretty Peg, my dearie! Her air sae sweet, an’ shape complete, Wi’ nae proportion wanting, The Queen of Love did never move Wi’ motion mair enchanting. Wi’ linked hands we took the sands, Adown yon winding river; Oh, that sweet hour and shady bower, Forget it shall I never!