The Banishment of Poverty by J.D. of Albany:
To the Tune of the Last Good Night.
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POx fa that pultran Poverty,
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Wae worth the time that I him saw
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Since first he laid his Fang on me
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Myself from him I dought ne're draw:
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his wink to me has been a Law,
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He haunts me like a penny dog,
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Of him I stand far greater aw
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Than Pupil does of Pedagogue.
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The first time that he met with me,
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Was at a Clachan in the West,
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Its name I trow Kilbarchan be;
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Where Habies Drons gave many a blast.
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There we shook hands, cald be his cast,
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An ill dead may that Custron die:
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For there he gripped me right fast
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When first I fell in Cautionrie.
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But yet in hopes to be reliev'd,
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And free'd from that foul Ladlie Lown,
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Fernzier when Whigs were ill mischiv'd
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And forc'd to fling their Weapons down
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When we chas'd them from Glasgow Town,
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I with that Swinger thought to grapple,
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But when Indemnity came down,
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The Laydron caught me by the Thraple.
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But yet in hopes of more relief,
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A race I made to Arinfrew.
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Where they did bravely buff my Beef,
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And made my Body Black and Blew.
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At Justice Court I them pursu'd,
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Expecting help for their Reproof,
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Indemnity thought nothing due,
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The Deivil a farthing for my Loof.
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But wishing that I might ride East,
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To trot on Foot I soon would tyre,
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My Page allow'd me not a Beast,
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I wanted Gilt to pay the Hyre:
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He and I lap o're many a Syre,
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I heuked him at Calder-cult.
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But long ere I came to Clypes-myre
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The ragged Rogue caught me a while.
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By Holand Bush and Bridge of Bonny
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We bickered down towards Bankier,
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We fear'd no Revers for our Money,
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Nor whilly whaes to grip our Gear:
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My tattered Tutor took no Fear,
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(Though he did travel in the Mirk)
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But thought it fit when he drew near
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To filsh a Forrage at Falkirk.
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No Man wou'd open me the Door,
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Because my Comerade stood by,
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They dread full ill I was right poor
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By my forsaken Company.
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But Cunninghame soon me espy'd,
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By how and hair he hail'd me in.
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And swore we should not part so dry,
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Though I were stripped to the Skin.
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I baid all night but long ere day,
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My curst companion bade me rise,
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I start up soon and took the way,
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He needed not to bid me twice.
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But what to do I did advise,
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In Lithgow I might not sit down,
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On a Scots Groat we balted thrice;
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And in at night to Edinburgh Town.
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We held the Long gate to Leith Wind,
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Where poorest Purses use to be,
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And in the Caltoun lodged fyne,
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Fit Quarters for such Companie.
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Yet I the High-Town fain would see,
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But that my Comrad did me discharge,
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He would me Blakburns Ale to prie,
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And must my Beard that was right large,
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The morn I ventured up the Wynd,
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And sloug'd in at the Neather-Bow,
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Thinking that Trooker for to tyne,
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Who does me Damnage what he dow:
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His company he does bestow
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On me to my great grief and Pain,
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Ere I the Throng cou'd wrestle throw
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The Lown was at my Heels again.
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I green'd to gang on the Plain-stanes,
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To see if Comrades wou'd me ken;
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We twa ga[?]d pacing there our laines
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The hungery Howr twixt twelve and One,
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Then I knew no way how to fen,
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My Guts ruml'd like a Hurle-borrow,
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I din'd with Saints and Noble Men,
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Ev'n sweet St. Giels and Earl of Murray;
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Tykes Testment take them for their Treat,
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For I needed not my Teeth to pick,
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Though I was in a cruel Sweat,
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He set not by say what I like.
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I call'd him Turk and traked Tyke,
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And wearied him with many a Curse,
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My Banes were hard like a Stane-Dyke
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No Rig Maria was in my Purse:
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Kind Widdow Caddel sent for me
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To dine, as she did oft forsooth,
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But oh alas that might not be!
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For her House was too near the Tolbooth;
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Yet God reward her for her Love,
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And kindness which I feckful found,
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Most ready still for my behove
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Ere that Hells Hound took her in Hand.
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I slipt my Page and stour'd to Leith
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To try my Credit at the Wine
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But foul a drible fyl'd my Teeth,
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He catch'd me at the Coffee Sign
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I flaw down through the Neasher-Wynd.
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My Lady Semples House was near,
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To enter there was my design
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Where Poverty durst ne're appear.
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I dined there, but I baid not long,
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My Lady fain wou'd shelter me,
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But oh alas! I needs must gang
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And leave that comely Company.
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Her Lad convoy'd me with her Key
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Out through the Garden to the Fields;
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Ere I the Links could graithly see
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My Governour was at my Heels.
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I dought not dance to Pipe nor Harp
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I had no stock for Cards nor Dice,
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But I sure to Sir William Sharp
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Who never made his counsel nice.
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That little man he is right wise
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And sharp as any Brier can be;
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He bravely gave me his advice
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How I might Poison Poverty.
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Quoth he there grows hard by the Dial
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In Hattons Garden bright and sheen
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a soveraign Herb, call'd Penny Royal
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Which all the year grows fresh and green.
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Could you but gather it fair and clean,
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Your Busines would not go backward,
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But let account of it be seen
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To the Physicians of Exchequer.
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Or if their Ticket ye bring with you
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Come unto me, ye need not fear
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For I some of that Herb can give you
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Which I have planted this same Year.
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It will cause your Page disappear
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Who wait, on you against your will;
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To gather it I shall you lear
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In my own Yards of Stony-hill,
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But when I dread that would not work
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I over thought me of a Wile
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How I might at my leisure lurk
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My Graceless Guardian to beguil.
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but my galloping a Mile
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Through Cannongate with little loss,
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Till I have Sanctuary a while
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Within the Girth of Abby-Closs.
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There I wan in and blyth was I
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When to the Inner-Court I drew,
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My Governour I did defy,
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For joy I clapt my Wings and crew:
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There Messengers dare not pursue;
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Nor with their Wands Mens Shoulders steer;
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There dwels distressed Lairds anue
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In peace tho they have little Gear:
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I had not tarried an Hour or two,
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When my blest Fortune was to see
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A sight sure by the mights of Mary
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Of that brave Duke of Albany.
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Where one blink of his Princly Eye
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Put that soul Foundring to the flight,
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Frae me he banish'd Poverty
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And made him take his last Good-night.
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