The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Hallowe'en

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

For other versions of this work, see Halloween.

HALLOWE'EN.^[1]

 

Yes! let the Rich deride, the Proud disdain,
The simple pleasure of the lowly train;
To me more dear, congenial to my heart,
One native charm, than all the gloss of art.
GOLDSMITH.

 

Upon that night, when Fairies light,
 On Cassilis-Downans^[2] dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
 On sprightly coursers prance;
Or from Colean the rowte is ta'en,
 Beneath the moon's pale beams:
There, up the Cove^[3], to stray and rove,
 Amang the rocks and streams,
To sport that night.

Amang the bonny winding banks,
 Whar Doon rins, wimplin, clear,
Whar Bruce^[4] ance rul'd the martial ranks,
 And shook his Carrick spear,
Some merry, friendly, countra focks,
 Together did conveen,
To burn their nits, and pou their stecks,
 To haud their Hallowe'en,
Fu' blythe that night.

The lasses feat, and cleanly neat,
 Mair braw than when they're fine;
Their faces blythe, fu' sweetly kythe;
 Hearts leal and warm, and kin';
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs,
 Weel knotted on their gartin,
Some unco blate, and some wi' gabs,
 Gar lasses' hearts gang startin,
Whyles fast that night.

Then, first and foremost, thro' the kail,
 Their stocks^[5] maun a' be sought ance;
They steek their een, and graip and wale
 For muckle anes, and straight anes.
Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,
 And wander'd through the Bow-kail,
And pou't, for want o' better shift,
 A runt was like a sow-tail,
Sae bow't that night.

Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,
 They roar and cry a' throu'ther;
The vera wee things, toddlin, rin,
 Wi' stocks out-owre their shouther,
And if the castock's sweet or sour
 Wi' jocktelegs they taste them;
Syne coziely aboon the door,
 Wi' cannie care they've plac'd them,
To lie that night.

The lasses staw frae 'mang them a',
 To pou their stalks o' corn^[6];
But Rab slips out, and jinks about
 Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippit Nelly hard and fast:
 Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
 When kittlin i' the Fause-house^[7]
Wi' him that night.

The auld Gudewife's weel hoordit nits^[8]
 Are round and round divided,
And monie lads' and lasses' fates
 Are there that night decided:
Some kindle, couthie, side by side,
 And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,
 And jump out-owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.

Jean slips in twa, wi' tentie ee;
 Wha 'twas she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, and that is me,
 She says in to hersel:
He bleez'd owre her, and she owre him,
 As they wad never mair part,
Till fuff! he started up the lum,
 And Jean had e'en a sair heart
To see't that night.

Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
 Was brunt by primsie Mallie;
And Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt,
 To be compar'd to Willie:
Mall's nit lap ont, wi' pricefu' fling,
 And her ain fit it brunt it;
While Willie lap, ard swore by jing,
 'Twas just the thing he wanted
To be that night.

Fell had the Fause-house in her min',
 She pits hersel and Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
 Till white in ase they're sobbin:
Nell's heart was dancin at the view;
 She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stowntins, pried her bonny mou,
 Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,
Unseen that night.

But Merran sat behind their backs,
 Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She leaves them gashin at their cracks,
 And slips out by hersel:
She thro' the yard the nearest taks,
 And to the kiln she goes then,
and derklins graipit for the bauks,
 And in the blue clue^[9]throws then,
Right fear't that night.

And ay she wint, and aye she swat,
 I wat she made nae jaukin;
Till something held within the pat,
 Gude L—d! but she was quakin!
But whether 'twas the Deil himsel,
 Or whether 'twas a bauk-en',
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,
 She did na wait on talkin
To spier that night.

Wee Jenny to her Grannie says,
 Will ye gae wi' me, Grannie?
I'll eat the apple^[10] at the glass
 I gat frae uncle Johnnie.
She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,
 In wrath she was sae vap'rin,
She notic't nae an isle brunt
 Her braw new worset apron
Out-thro' that night.

Ye little skelpie limmer's face,
 I daur you try sic sportin,
As seek the foul thief ony place,
 For him to spae your fortune;
Nae doubt but ye may get a sight,
 Great cause ye hae to fear it;
For monie ane has gotten a fright,
 And liv'd and di'd deleeret,
On sic a night.

Ae Har'st afore the Sherra-muir,
 I mind it as weel's yestreen,
I was a gilpy then, I'm sure
 I was nae past fifteen:
The Simmer had been cauld and wat,
 And staff was unco green,
And aye a rantin kirn was gat,
 And just on Hallowe'en
It fell that night.

Our stibble rig was Rob M'Graen,
 A clever sturdy fallow:
His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,
 That liv'd in Aclimacalla:
He gat hemp-seed^[11], I mind it weel,
 And he made unco light o't,
But monie a day was by-himsel,
 He was sae sairly frighted
That vera night.

Then up gat fechtin Jamie Fleck,
 And he swore by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck,
 For it was a' but nonsense.
The auld gudman raught down the pock,
 And out a handfu' gied him:
Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the fock,
 Some time when nae ane see'd him,
And try't that night.

He marches thro' amang the stacks,
 Tho' he was something sturtin;
The graip he for a harrow taks,
 And haurls at his curpin:
And every now and then, he says,
 'Hemp-seed I saw thee;
'And her that is to be my lass,
 'Come after me, and draw thee,
'As fast this night.

He whistl'd up Lord Lennox' march,
 To keep his courage cheery,
Altho' his hair began to arch,
 He was sae fley'd and eerie;
Till presently he hears a squeek,
 And then a grane and gruntle!
He by his shouther gae a keek,
 And tumbled wi' a wintle
Out-owre that night.

He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
 In dreadful desperation!
And young and auld came rinnin-out,
 To hear the sad narration:
He swore 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
 Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till, stop! she trotted thro' them a';
 And wha was it but Grumphie,
Asteer that night.

Meg fain wad to the Barn hae gane,
 To win' three wechts o' naething^[12];
But for to meet the Deil her lane,
 She pat but little faith in:
She gies the herd a pickle nits,
 And twa red-cheekit apples,
To watch, while for the Barn she sets,
 In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That vera night.

She turns the key wi' cannie thraw,
 And owre the threshold ventures:
But first on Sawnie gies a ca',
 Syne bauldly in she enters;
A ratton rattl'd up the wa',
 And she cried, L—d preserve her!
And ran thro' midden-hole and a',
 And pray'd wi' zeal and fervour,
Fu' fast that night.

They hoy't out Will, wi' fair advice,
 They hecht him some fine braw ane:
It chanc'd the stack he faddom't thrice^[13],
 Was timmer-propt for thrawin:
He taks a swirlie auld moss-oak,
 For some black, grousome Carlin;
And loot a winze, and drew a stroke,
 Till skin in blypes cam haurlin
Aff's nieves that night.

A wanton widow Leezie was,
 As cantie as a kittlin;
But, och! that night, amang the shaws,
 She gat a fearfu' settlin!
She thro' the whins, and by the cairn,
 And o'er the hill gaed scrievin,
Whar three Lairds' lands met at a burn^[14],
 To dip her left sark-sleeve in,
Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
 As thro' the glen it wimpl'd;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays,
 Whyles in a wiel it dimpl'd:
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,
 Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whyles cockit underneath the braes,
 Below the spreading hazel,
Unseen that night.

Amang the branches, on the brae,
 Between her and the moon,
The Deil, or else some outler Quey,
 Gat up and gae a croon:
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool;
 Near lav'rock-height she jumpit,
But mist a fit, and in the pool,
 Out owre the lugs she plumpit,
Wi' a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
 The Luggies three^[15] are ranged;
And every time great care is ta'en
 To see them duly changed:
Auld uncle John, wha wedlock's joys
 Sin' Mar's year did desire,
Because he gat the toom dish thrice,
 He heav'd them on the fire
In wrath that night!

Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,
 I wat they did not weary;
And unco tales, and funny jokes,
 Their sports were cheap and cheery,
Till butter'd Sow'ns^[16], wi' fragrant lunt,
 Set a' their gabs a steerin;
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt
 They parted aff careerin,
Fu' blythe that night.

 

Divider from 'The Beauties of Burn's Poems' a chapbook printed in Falkirk in 1819

 

1. It is thought to be a night when Devils, Witches and other mischief making beings are all abroad on their baneful midnight errands, particularly those ærial people the Fairies are said, on that night to hold a grand anniversary.
2. Certain little, romantic, rocky green bills. in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.
3. A noted Cavern near Colean-house called the Cove of Colean; which as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed. in country story, for being a favourite haunt of Fairies.
4. The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the great Deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.
5. The first ceremony of Hallowe'en is pulling each a stock or plant of Kail. They must go out hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with; its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their spells—the husband or wife. If any yird, or earth, stick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and the taste of the castock, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition.— Lastly, the stems, or, to give them their ordinary appellation, the runts, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the Christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the runts, the names in question.
6. They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed anything but a Maid.
7. When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too green or wet, the stack builder, by means of old timber, &'c. makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is most exposed to the wind; this he calls a Fause-house.
8. Burning the Nuts is a favourite charm.—They name the Lad and Lass to each particular Nut, as they lay them in the fire; and accordingly as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one-another, the issue of the courtship will be.
9. Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions. Steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot a clue of blue yarn; wind it in a new clue of the old one; and, towards the latter end, something will hold the thread; demand. Wha bauds? that is Who holds: An answer will be returned from the kiln pot, by naming the Christian and Sirname of your future Spouse.
10. Take a Candle and go alone to a Looking-glass; eat an Apple before it, and some traditions say you should comb your hair all the time, the face of your conjugal companion to be will be seen in the glass, as peeping over your shoulder.
11. Steal out unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp-seed. harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat now and then, 'Hemp-seed I saw thee. Hemp-seed I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true-love, come after me and pou thee.' Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person invoked in the attitude of pulling hemp Some traditions say, 'Come after me, and show thee:' that is, Show thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, 'Come after me and horrow thee.'
12. This charm must likewise be performed unperceived and alone. You go to the Barn, and open both doors, taking them off their hinges, if possible; for there is danger that the Being about to appear, may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country-dialect, we call a wecht, and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind: Repeat it three times, and the third time an apparition will pass through the Barn, in at the windy door and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance and retinue marking the employment or station in life.
13. Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bear-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last-time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow.
14. You go out, one or more (for this is a social spell) to a south running spring or rivulet, where three Lairds' lands meet, and dip your left shirt-sleeve; go to bed, in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry; lie awake, and some time before midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.
15. Take three dishes, put clean water in one, foul water in another, and leave the third empty; blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth, where the dishes are ranged; he or she dips the left hand: If, by chance, in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of Matrimony a Maid; if in the foul, a Widow; if in the empty dish, it foretels with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.
16. Sowans, with butter instead of milk to them, is always the Hallowe'en Supper.