Hollander, or Light Weight
——— Unheard of tortures
Must be reserved for such, these herd together;
The common damned shun their society,
And look upon themselves as fiends less foul."—BLAIR.
ATTEND a' ye, wha on the loom,
Survey the shuttle jinking,
Whase purse has aft been sucket toom,
While Willie's scales war clinkin';
A' ye that for some luckless hole
Ha'e paid (though right unwillin')
To satisfy his hungry soul,
A saxpence or a shillin'
For fine some day.
Shall black Injustice lift its head,
And cheat us like the devil,
Without a man to stop its speed,
Or crush the growin' evil?
No;—here am I, wi' vengeance big,
Resolved to calm his clashin';
Nor shall his cheeps nor powdered wig,
Protect him frae a lashin'
Right keen this day.
See! cross his nose he lays the specks,
And o'er the claith he glimmers;
Ilk wee bit triflin' fau't detects,
And cheeps, and to him yaummers,
"Dear man!—that wark 'ill never do;
See that: ye'll no tak' tellin';"
Syne knavish chirts his fingers through,
And libels down a shilling
For holes that day.
Perhaps the fellow's needin'
To calm some threatnin' beagle,
Whilk mak's him at sic baseness wink,
And for some siller wheedle.
In greetin', herse, ungracious croon,
Aul' Willy granes, " I hear ye,
But weel a wat! our siller's done,
We really canna spare ye
Ae doyt this day."
Health to the brave Hibernian boy,
Who when by Willie cheated,
Cocked up his hat, without annoy,
And spoke with passion heated;
"Upon my sowl I have a mind,
Ye old deceiving devil,
To toss your wig up to the wind,
And teach you to be civil,
To me this day."
But see! anither curtain's drawn,
Some chiel his web has finish't,
And Willy on the tither han',
The price o't has diminish't
But brought before the awfu' Judge,
To pay the regulation;
Will lifts his arm without a grudge,
And swears by his salvation—
He's right that day.
Anither's been upo' the push,
To get his keel in claith,
In certain hopes to be sure flush,
O' notes and siller baith.
Returnin' for his count at night,
The poor imposed-on mortal,
Maun pay for punds o' clean light weight,
Though he's maist at the portal,
O' want that day.