The Holy Fair Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCBDBC EFEFGEGEH DHCHIEIJH EGEGKLKLH GLGLIGMGH NOPGFEFEH GEQERGSGH TGTGMUMUH GGGGVEGEH GGGGWGWGH XYXYMYMZH UEA2EGYGYH TETEB2GB2GH GUGUGGGGH EEEEEEEEH C2YD2YE2D2CCC GGGGGYGYC GGGGMUCUC FF2NG2KEKEC CCCCMGMGC GEGEGVH2VC CECENENEC H2CH2CGGGGC I2UI2UGUGUC GMGMH2CH2CC CECEMEMEC GGEGECECC| A note of seeming truth and trust | A |
| Hid crafty observation | B |
| And secret hung with poison'd crust | A |
| The dirk of defamation | B |
| A mask that like the gorget show'd | C |
| Dye varying on the pigeon | B |
| And for a mantle large and broad | D |
| He wrapt him in Religion | B |
| Hypocrisy agrave la Mode | C |
| - | |
| - | |
| Upon a simmer Sunday morn | E |
| When Nature's face is fair | F |
| I walked forth to view the corn | E |
| An' snuff the caller air | F |
| The risin' sun owre Galston muirs | G |
| Wi' glorious light was glintin | E |
| The hares were hirplin down the furrs | G |
| The lav'rocks they were chantin | E |
| Fu' sweet that day | H |
| - | |
| As lightsomely I glowr'd abroad | D |
| To see a scene sae gay | H |
| Three hizzies early at the road | C |
| Cam skelpin up the way | H |
| Twa had manteeles o' dolefu' black | I |
| But ane wi' lyart linin | E |
| The third that gaed a wee a back | I |
| Was in the fashion shining | J |
| Fu' gay that day | H |
| - | |
| The twa appear'd like sisters twin | E |
| In feature form an' claes | G |
| Their visage wither'd lang an' thin | E |
| An' sour as ony slaes | G |
| The third cam up hap step an' lowp | K |
| As light as ony lambie | L |
| An' wi' a curchie low did stoop | K |
| As soon as e'er she saw me | L |
| Fu' kind that day | H |
| - | |
| Wi' bonnet aff quoth I Sweet lass | G |
| I think ye seem to ken me | L |
| I'm sure I've seen that bonie face | G |
| But yet I canna name ye | L |
| Quo' she an' laughin as she spak | I |
| An' taks me by the han's | G |
| Ye for my sake hae gien the feck | M |
| Of a' the ten comman's | G |
| A screed some day | H |
| - | |
| My name is Fun your cronie dear | N |
| The nearest friend ye hae | O |
| An' this is Superstition here | P |
| An' that's Hypocrisy | G |
| I'm gaun to Mauchline Holy Fair | F |
| To spend an hour in daffin | E |
| Gin ye'll go there you runkl'd pair | F |
| We will get famous laughin | E |
| At them this day | H |
| - | |
| Quoth I With a' my heart I'll do't | G |
| I'll get my Sunday's sark on | E |
| An' meet you on the holy spot | Q |
| Faith we'se hae fine remarkin | E |
| Then I gaed hame at crowdie time | R |
| An' soon I made me ready | G |
| For roads were clad frae side to side | S |
| Wi' monie a wearie body | G |
| In droves that day | H |
| - | |
| Here farmers gash in ridin graith | T |
| Gaed hoddin by their cotters | G |
| There swankies young in braw braidclaith | T |
| Are springin owre the gutters | G |
| The lasses skelpin barefit thrang | M |
| In silks an' scarlets glitter | U |
| Wi' sweet milk cheese in mony a whang | M |
| An' farls bak'd wi' butter | U |
| Fu' crump that day | H |
| - | |
| When by the plate we set our nose | G |
| Weel heaped up wi' ha'pence | G |
| A greedy glowr Black Bonnet throws | G |
| An' we maun draw our tippence | G |
| Then in we go to see the show | V |
| On ev'ry side they're gath'rin | E |
| Some carryin dails some chairs an' stools | G |
| An' some are busy bleth'rin | E |
| Right loud that day | H |
| - | |
| - | |
| Here some are thinkin on their sins | G |
| An' some upo' their claes | G |
| Ane curses feet that fyl'd his shins | G |
| Anither sighs an' prays | G |
| On this hand sits a chosen swatch | W |
| Wi' screw'd up grace proud faces | G |
| On that a set o' chaps at watch | W |
| Thrang winkin on the lasses | G |
| To chairs that day | H |
| - | |
| O happy is that man and blest | X |
| Nae wonder that it pride him | Y |
| Whase ain dear lass that he likes best | X |
| Comes clinkin down beside him | Y |
| Wi' arm repos'd on the chair back | M |
| He sweetly does compose him | Y |
| Which by degrees slips round her neck | M |
| An's loof upon her bosom | Z |
| Unken'd that day | H |
| - | |
| Now a' the congregation o'er | U |
| Is silent expectation | E |
| For Moodie speels the holy door | A2 |
| Wi' tidings o' salvation | E |
| Should Hornie as in ancient days | G |
| 'Mang sons o' God present him | Y |
| The vera sight o' Moodie's face | G |
| To's ain het hame had sent him | Y |
| Wi' fright that day | H |
| - | |
| Hear how he clears the points o' faith | T |
| Wi' rattlin an' wi' thumpin | E |
| Now meekly calm now wild in wrath | T |
| He's stampin an' he's jumpin | E |
| His lengthen'd chin his turn'd up snout | B2 |
| His eldritch squeal and gestures | G |
| Oh how they fire the heart devout | B2 |
| Like cantharidian plaisters | G |
| On sic a day | H |
| - | |
| But hark the tent has chang'd its voice | G |
| There's peace and rest nae langer | U |
| For a' the real judges rise | G |
| They canna sit for anger | U |
| Smith opens out his cauld harangues | G |
| On practice and on morals | G |
| An' aff the godly pour in thrangs | G |
| To gie the jars an' barrels | G |
| A lift that day | H |
| - | |
| What signifies his barren shine | E |
| Of moral pow'rs and reason | E |
| His English style an' gesture fine | E |
| Are a' clean out o' season | E |
| Like Socrates or Antonine | E |
| Or some auld pagan heathen | E |
| The moral man he does define | E |
| But ne'er a word o' faith in | E |
| That's right that day | H |
| - | |
| In guid time comes an antidote | C2 |
| Against sic poison'd nostrum | Y |
| For Peebles frae the water fit | D2 |
| Ascends the holy rostrum | Y |
| See up he's got the word o' God | E2 |
| An' meek an' mim has view'd it | D2 |
| While Common Sense has ta'en the road | C |
| An's aff an' up the Cowgate | C |
| Fast fast that day | C |
| - | |
| Wee Miller niest the Guard relieves | G |
| An' Orthodoxy raibles | G |
| Tho' in his heart he weel believes | G |
| An' thinks it auld wives' fables | G |
| But faith the birkie wants a Manse | G |
| So cannilie he hums them | Y |
| Altho' his carnal wit an' sense | G |
| Like hafflins wise o'ercomes him | Y |
| At times that day | C |
| - | |
| Now butt an' ben the change house fills | G |
| Wi' yill caup commentators | G |
| Here's cryin out for bakes an gills | G |
| An' there the pint stowp clatters | G |
| While thick an' thrang an' loud an' lang | M |
| Wi' logic an' wi' Scripture | U |
| They raise a din that in the end | C |
| Is like to breed a rupture | U |
| O' wrath that day | C |
| - | |
| Leeze me on drink it gies us mair | F |
| Than either school or college | F2 |
| It kindles wit it waukens lear | N |
| It pangs us fou o' knowledge | G2 |
| Be't whisky gill or penny wheep | K |
| Or ony stronger potion | E |
| It never fails on drinkin deep | K |
| To kittle up our notion | E |
| By night or day | C |
| - | |
| The lads an' lasses blythely bent | C |
| To mind baith saul an' body | C |
| Sit round the table weel content | C |
| An' steer about the toddy | C |
| On this ane's dress an' that ane's leuk | M |
| They're makin observations | G |
| While some are cozie i' the neuk | M |
| An' forming assignations | G |
| To meet some day | C |
| - | |
| But now the Lord's ain trumpet touts | G |
| Till a' the hills rae rairin | E |
| An' echoes back return the shouts | G |
| Black Russell is na sparin | E |
| His piercing words like highlan' swords | G |
| Divide the joints an' marrow | V |
| His talk o' hell whare devils dwell | H2 |
| Our vera sauls does harrow | V |
| Wi' fright that day | C |
| - | |
| A vast unbottom'd boundless pit | C |
| Fill'd fou o' lowin brunstane | E |
| Whase ragin flame an' scorching heat | C |
| Wad melt the hardest whun stane | E |
| The half asleep start up wi' fear | N |
| An' think they hear it roarin | E |
| When presently it does appear | N |
| 'Twas but some neibor snorin | E |
| Asleep that day | C |
| - | |
| 'Twad be owre lang a tale to tell | H2 |
| How mony stories past | C |
| An' how they crouded to the yill | H2 |
| When they were a' dismist | C |
| How drink gaed round in cogs an' caups | G |
| Amang the furms an' benches | G |
| An' cheese and bred frae women's laps | G |
| Was dealt about in lunches | G |
| An' dauds that day | C |
| - | |
| In comes a gausie gash guidwife | I2 |
| An' sits down by the fire | U |
| Syne draws her kebbuck an' her knife | I2 |
| The lasses they are shyer | U |
| The auld guidmen about the grace | G |
| Frae side to side they bother | U |
| Till some ane by his bonnet lays | G |
| And gi'es them't like a tether | U |
| Fu' lang that day | C |
| - | |
| Waesucks for him that gets nae lass | G |
| Or lasses that hae naething | M |
| Sma' need has he to say a grace | G |
| Or melvie his braw clathing | M |
| O wives be mindfu' ance yoursel | H2 |
| How bonie lads ye wanted | C |
| An' dinna for a kebbuck heel | H2 |
| Let lasses be affronted | C |
| On sic a day | C |
| - | |
| Now Clinkumbell wi' rattlin tow | C |
| Begins to jow an' croon | E |
| Some swagger hame the best they dow | C |
| Some wait the afternoon | E |
| At slaps the billies halt a blink | M |
| Till lasses strip their shoon | E |
| Wi' faith an' hope an' love an' drink | M |
| They're a' in famous tune | E |
| For crack that day | C |
| - | |
| How monie hearts this day converts | G |
| O' sinners and o' lasses | G |
| Their hearts o' stane gin night are gane | E |
| As saft as ony flesh is | G |
| There's some are fou o' love divine | E |
| There's some are fou o' brandy | C |
| An' monie jobs that day begin | E |
| May end in houghmagandie | C |
| Some ither day | C |
Robert Burns
(1)
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About The Holy Fair
The Holy Fair is a poem by Robert Burns. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
