The five Carlins

Not only bring us tidings hame,

But do our errands there,

And aiblins gowd and honour baith

Might be that laddie's share.

There was Maggie by the banks o' Nith,

A dame wi' pride eneugh;

And Marjorie o' the monie Lochs,

A Carlin auld an' teugh.

And blinkin Bess o' Annandale,

That dwells near Solway side,

And whisky Jean that took her gill

In Galloway so wide.

And auld black Joan frae Creighton peel,

O'gipsy kith an' kin,

Five wighter Carlins were na foun'

The south kintra within.

To send a lad to Lon'on town

They met upon a day,

And monie a Knight and monie a Laird,

That errand fain would gae.

O! monie a Knight and monie a Laird,

This errand fain would gae;

But nae ane could their fancy please,

O! ne'er a ane but twae.

The first ane was a belted Knight,

Bred o'a border clan,

An' he wad gae to Lon'on town,

Might nae man him withstan':

And he wad do their errands weel,

And meikle he wae say,

And ilka ane at Lon'on court

Wad bid to him guid day.

Then neist came in a sodger youth,

And spak wi' modest grace,

An' he wad gae to Lon'on town,

If sae their pleasure was.

He wad na hecht them courtly gift,

Nor meikle speech pretend;

But he wad hecht an honest heart

Wad ne'er desert his friend.

Now wham to choose and wham refuse,

To strife thae Carlins fell;

For some had gentle folk to please,

And some wad please themsel.

Then out spak mim-mou'd Meg o' Nith,

An' she spak out wi' pride,

An' she wad send the sodger youth

Whatever might betide.

For the auld guidman o' Lon'on court

She didna care a pin,

But she wad send the sodger youth

To greet his eldest son.

Then up sprang Bess o' Annandale:

A deadly aith she's ta'en,

That she wad vote the border Knight,

Tho' she should vote her lane.

For far aff fowls hae feathers fair,

An' fools o' change are fain:

But I hae tried the border Knight,

I'll try him yet again.

Says auld black Joan frae Creighton peel,

A Carlin stoor and grim,

The auld guidman or young guidman,

For me may sink or swim!

For fools may freit o' right and wrang,

While knaves laugh them to scorn:

But the sodger's friends hae blawn the best,

Sae he shall bear the horn.

Then whisky Jean spak o'er her drink,

Ye weel ken kimmers a'

The auld guidman o' Lon'on court,

His back's been at the wa'.

And monie a friend that kiss'd his caup,

Is now a frammit wight;

But it's ne'er sae wi' whisky Jean,—

We'll send the border Knight.

Then slow raise Marjorie o' the Lochs,

And wrinkled was her brow;

Her ancient weed was russet gray,

Her auld Scots bluid was true.

There's some great folks set light by me,

I set as light by them;

But I will send to Lon'on town,

Wha I lo'e best at hame.

So how this weighty plea will end,

Nae mortal wight can tell;

God grant the King and ilka man

May look weel to himsel'!