Address to Bachelors
By Sarah Leech
Ye bachelors baith ane and a’,
Oppressed wi’ grief on you I ca’,
While down my cheeks the tear-drops fa’,
Thro’ pure compassion,
To see ilk flirt and country daw,
Ape at the fashion.
The gents may weel put on grimaces,
And in sad plight bewail their cases,
When flunkies dress in frills and laces,
Sae fine and braw
I fear soon in their ladies’ places
Themselves they’ll shaw.
Ilk lass maun ha’e a snaw-white gown,
Wi’ span-lang flounces waving roun’,
Some weel-plait straw upon her crown,
And ribbons gay,
While hose weel starched, and right-left shoon
Her feet display.
Next she maun ha’e a yard o’ veiling,
Affected modesty concealing,
Tho’ want o’ this is a’ the failing,
Laid to the lassie -
How can I help at times bewailing,
Poor fools sae saucy.
How to her mither Kate will bawl,
To purchase her a scarlet shawl,
In hopes she may some gull enthral,
Who gapes for riches,
But six months wed, she proves a brawl,
And wears the breeches.
Examples here I could bring in,
Which would create a mighty din,
But some at my poor muse might grin,
And sairly flyte her -
I wish them safe beyond Clyde’s linn
That wad sae spite her.
Despite o’ fear I ane shall state,
O Willie! who I mourn your fate -
Since you were tied to bucksome Kate,
Without compassion
She thrash’d you weel baith ear’ and late,
When in a passion.
In truth she is a thrawart dame,
You’re often witness o’ the same;
For be it spoken to your shame,
She never spares you,
And should you try the shrew to tame,
She drubs or hairs you.
Her tongue at rest can never be,
And when she pries the barley bree,
Wi’ nibours she will disagree,
But in the end,
Poor Willie gets a blackened e’e,
You may depend.
I therefore a’ young fellows caution
To guard against sic dames o’ fashion,
Or you may aiblins get a thrashin’
Frae tongue as glib,
When wed, you rouse the angry passion
Of captious rib.
Too late you may have cause to wail,
For should the tea or whiskey fail,
She, vixen like, will you assail,
Or chide and snap,
And swear, should you be dragged to jail,
She’ll have her drap.
Keep these examples in your view,
For happiness is doom’d to few,
But hark! the clock is striking two,
And time goes rinning,
So I’m obliged to bid adieu,
And join my spinning.