THE WAES O' WAR: OR THE UPSHOT OF THE HISTORY O' WILL AND JEAN IN FOUR PARTS. -Felices ter et amplius Quos adversa docet Sors sapientiam,BOETH. Thrice happy pair Wha wit frae luckless Fortune lear! E e 2 THE WAES O' WAR. PART I. On! that folk wad weel consider Poortith ne'er can bring dishonour; But wi' a' that wealth can borrow, Jeanie Miller, ance sae cheerie! Cauld the blast!-the day was sleeting; Pouch and purse without a plack! In ilk hand a bairnie greeting, And the third tied on her back. Wan her face! and lean and haggard! Far frae ilk kent spot she wander'd, But soon shame for bygane errors Whan grim death, wi' a' his terrors Spent wi' toil, and cauld and hunger, Baith down drapt! and down Jean sat! Dais'd and doited' now nae langer; Thought-and felt-and bursting grat. Gloaming, fast wi' mirky shadow Round and round, in wild distraction, Dark, and darker grew the night aye; Jean now spied a sma' bit lightie Up wi' frantic haste she started; Cauld, nor fear, she felt nae mair; Hope, for ae bright moment, darted Through the gloom o' dark despair! Fast owre fallow'd lea she brattled; Proud, mang scenes o' simple nature, Simmer here, in varied beauty Blasted now wi' winter's ravage; Darkness stalk'd wi' fancy's terror;-Mountains mov'd, and castle rock'd! Jean, half dead wi' toil and horror, Reach'd the door, and loudly knock'd. Wha thus rudely wakes the sleeping?' Cried a voice wi' angry grane ; "Help! oh help!' quo' Jeanie, weeping, |