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Hogg: Balmaquhapple
ON SCOTT'S THE FIELD OF WATERLOO
On Waterloo's ensanguined plain
Lie tens of thousands of the slain;
But none, by sabre or by shot.
Fell half so flat as Walter Scott.
THOMAS, LORD ERSKINE
THE VILLAGE OF BALMAQUHAPPLE
D'ye ken the big village of Balmaquhapple,
The great mucklc village of Balmaquhapple?
'Tis steep'd in iniquity up to the thrapple,
An' what's to become o' poor Balmaquhapple?
Fling a' aff your bannets, an' kneel for your life, fo'ks,
And pray to St Andrew, the god o' the Fife fo'ks;
Gar a' the hills yout wi' sheer vociferation,
And thus you may cry on sic needfu' occasion:
c O, blessed St Andrew, if e'er ye could pity fo'k,
Men fo'k or women fo'k, country or city fo'k,
Come for this aince wi' the auld thief to grapple,
An' save the great village of Balmaquhapple
Frae drinking an' leeing, an' flyting an' swearing,
An' sins that ye wad be aifrontit at hearing,
An' cheating an' stealing; O, grant them redemption,
All save an' except the few after to mention:
'There's Johnny the elder, wha hopes ne'er to need ye,
Sae pawkie, sae holy, sae gruff, an' sae greedy;
Wha prays every hour as the wayfarer passes,
But aye at a hole where he watches the lasses;
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