The Historical ballad of May Culzean (1817-1818)/A Poem on the Times

A Poem on the Times.

⟨NOT⟩ hard to show, some years ago,
The Farmers grew too grand,
⟨The⟩ reason why, grain sold so high,
What hunting then for land!
⟨What⟩ farms they took! by hook and crook,
By fraud and extra rent;
⟨How⟩ chang'd the scene, and low and mean
To make such great complaint.

⟨How⟩ did the poor so long endure,
When all things sold so high?
⟨They⟩ labour'd hard, and prest forward
By sweet frugality.
⟨The⟩ Farmers break, and methods take
Design'd the Lairds to cheat;
⟨What⟩ cringing hounds, how vice abounds,
⟨Care⟩ not for church nor State.

⟨My⟩ Bonapart' do love in heart,
⟨And⟩ wills him back again,
(illegible text) in his time they so did reign,
⟨Hold⟩ high both stock and grain.
⟨What⟩ cursed pride! how high they ride,
⟨The⟩ best of Horse upon,
⟨He wig⟩ must have, and dress as brave
⟨As⟩ any Squire's old son.

They priz'd not peace, nor great increase
Got in the year fifteen;
Their aim is dearth, starve from the earth
Poor honest lab'ring men.
As truth I wrote, Lairds value not
Their growling vexing plaints,
Make them more low, and frugal go,
And duely pay their rents.