The Banishment of Poverty by his Royal
Highness, J. D. A:
To the Tune of the Last Good-night.
pox sa that pultron povertie,
Wa worth the time that I him saw;
Since first he laid his sang on me,
My Self from him I dought ne're draw:
His wink to me has been a Law,
He hunts me like a penny Dog,
Of him I stand far greater aw,
Than Puppil does of Pedagogue,
The first time that he met with me,
Was at a Clachan in the West.
Its name I trow Kilbarchan be,
Where Havies Drons blew many a blast,
There we Shook hands, cald be his cast,
An ill dead may that Custron die.
For there he gripped me well fast,
Where first I fell in Cautionrie.
Yet I had hopes to be reliev'd,
And fred from that foul laidly lown:
Fernier when whiggs were ill mischiev'd
And forc'd to fling their weapons down;
When we chasd them from Glasgow Town
I with that Swinger thought to graple,
But when Indemaity came down,
The laldron pow'd me by the thraple.
And yet in hopes of some relief,
A rade I made to Arinsrow,
Where they did bravely buff my beef,
And made my body black and blew:
At Justice Court I them pursue,
Expecting help by their reproof,
Indemnity made nothing due,
The D-a farthing for my loos.
But wishing that I wode ride cast,
To trote on foot I soon would tire
My Page allowed me not a beast,
I wanted gilt to pay the hire :
He and I lap o're many a syre,
He hooked me at Calder-cult
But lang or I wan to Slyps-mire,
The ragged rogue took me a Whist,
By Holin-bush and bridge of Bony,
We bicker down toward Bankier,
We fear'd no reavers for our money,
Nor whilly wha's to grip our gear;
My tatter,d Tutor took no fear,
Though we did travel in the mirk;
He thought it fit when we drew near,
To filsh a forrage at Falkirk.
No man would open me the door,
Because my Commerade stood by ;
They dread full ill I was right poer,
By my forecasten company,
Then Cunninghame did me espy.
By how and hair he hall'd me in,
And swore we should not part so dry:
Though I were striped to the Skin,
We baid all night, but lang or day
My curst companion bad me rise;
I start up soon and took my way,
He needed not to bid me twice,
Bat what to do we did advise,
In Lithgow we might not sit down,
On a Scots Groat we baited thrice,
And in at night to Edinburgh Town.
We held the Lang gate to Leith-wind,
Where poorest purses use to be;
And in the Caltown lodged syne,
Fit quarters for sick companie.
Yet the High-town I sain would see,
But that my man did me discharge.
He will'd me Blackburns Ale to prie,
And muff my beard it was right large.
The morn I ventur'd up the Wynd,
And flung'd in at the Nether-bow,
Thinking that Trooker for to tyne,
Who does me damnage what he dow,
His company he does bestow,
On me, to my great grief and pain;
Ere I the thrang could wrestle through,
The Lown was at my heels again.
I grein'd to gang on the plain stanes,
To see if Commerads wad me ken,
We twa gade paceing there our lanes,
The hungry hour 'twixt twelve and ane,
When I kend no way how to fend,
My Guts rumbl'd like a Hurle-barrow,
I din'd with Saints and Noble men,
Ev'n sweet St. Giles, and Earl of Murray,
Tykes Testment take him for his treat,
I needed not my teeth to pike,
Though I was in a cruel sweat,
He set not by, say what I like:
I call'd him Turk and traiked Tyke,
And wearied him with many a curse;
My bones were hard like a stone dyke,
No Reg. Marie was in my purse.
Kind Widow Caddel sent for me,
To dine as she did oft forsooth,
But ah! alas, that would not be,
Her house was o're near the Tolbooth.
Yet God reward her for her love,
And kindness, which I fed full found,
Most readie still for my behove,
Ere this hells hound took her in hand.
I left my Page and stour'd to Leith,
To try my credit at the wine,
But soul a drible fil'd my teeth,
He gripp'd me at the Coffee Sign,
I sta down through the Nether Wynd,
My Lady Semples house was near ;
To enter there was my design,
Where Poverty durst ne're appear.
I din'd there, but I bade not lang,
My Lady fain would shelter me.
But e're alas I needs must gang,
And leave that comelie companie:
Her Lad convey'd me with a key,
Out through the Garden to the field,
Ere I the Links could graithlie see,
My Governour was at my heels.
I dought nor dance to pipe or harp,
I had no stock for Cards and Dice,
But I suir to Sir william Sharp,
Who never made his Counsel nice:
That little man he is right wise,
And sharp as any brier can be ,
He bravely gave me his advice,.
How I might poyson povertie.
Quoth he, there grows hard by the dyel,
In Hartons Garden bright and sheen,
A soveraign herb call'd Penny Royal
Whilk all the year grows fresh and green,
Could ye but gather fair and clean,
Your business would not go backward
But let account of it be seen,
From the Physicians of Exchequer;
For is that Ticket ye bring with you
Come back to me, you need not fear
For I some of that herb can give you,
Whilk I have planted this same year:
Your Page it will cause disappear,
Who waits on you against your will;
To gather it I shall you lear,
In my own Yard of Stonny bill.
But when I dread that would not work
I underthought me of a wyle,
How I might at my leisure lurk,
My graceless Guardian to beguile:
It's but my galloping a mile,
Through Cannogate with little loss;
Till I have Sanctuary a while
Within the Girth of Abbey Closs:
There I wan in, and blyth Was I
When to the inner Court I drew
My Governour I did defy,
For joy I clapt my wings and crew,
There Messengers dare not pursue,
Nor with their wands mens Shoulder Steer
There dwells distressed Lairds enew,
In peace though they have little gear
There twa hours I did not tarrie
Till my blest fortune was to see
A sight sure by the mights of Marie,
Of that brave Duke of Albanie;
Where one blink of his Princly eye
Put that foul foondling to the night,
Fra me be banisht povertie,
And gart him take his last goodnight.
View Commentary | Download PDF Facsimile
Probable date of publication:
1703 shelfmark: APS.4.94.22
View larger image