by Robert Burns
An’ pow’t, for want o’ better shift, pulled
35 A runt, was like a sow-tail, small cabbage stalk
Sae bow’t that night. so bent
Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane, straight, dirt, none
They roar an’ cry a’ throu’ther; pell-mell
The vera wee-things, toddlin, rin very children, run
40 Wi’ stocks out-owre their shouther: -over, shoulder
An’ gif the custock’s sweet or sour, if, pith
Wi’ joctelegs they taste them; knives
Syne coziely, aboon the door, then, comfortably, above
Wi’ cannie care, they’ve plac’d them gentle
45 To lye that night. lie
The lasses staw frae ’mang them a’, stole, from, among them all
To pou their stalks o’ corn;5 pull
But Rab slips out, an’ jinks about, dodges
Behint the muckle thorn: large
50 He grippet Nelly hard an’ fast; gripped
Loud skirl’d a’ the lasses; screamed
But her tap-pickle maist was lost, top amount mostly
Whan kiutlan in the Fause-house6 when cuddling, corn drier
Wi’ him that night.
55 The auld Guidwife’s weel-hoordet nits7 old, good-, well-hoarded nuts
Are round an’ round divided,
An’ monie lads’ an’ lasses’ fates many
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle couthie, side by side, warm comfortably
60 An’ burn thegither trimly; together
Some start awa wi’ saucy pride, away
An’ jump out-owre the chimlie -over, fireplace
Fu’ high that night.
Jean slips in twa, wi’ tentie e’e; two, watchful eye
65 Wha ’twas, she wadna tell; who, would not
But this is Jock, an’ this is me,
She says in to hersel:
He bleez’d owre her, an’ she owre him, over
As they wad never mair part; would, more
70 Till fuff! he started up the lum, chimney
And Jean had e’en a sair heart sore
To see’t that night.
Poor Willie, wi’ his bow-kail runt, cabbage stalk
Was burnt wi’ primsie Mallie; prudish
75 An’ Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt, no, huff
To be compar’d to Willie:
Mall’s nit lap out, wi’ pridefu’ fling, nut leaped
An’ her ain fit, it burnt it; own foot
While Willie lap, an’ swoor by jing, jumped, swore with conviction
80 ’Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.
Nell had the Fause-house in her min’, corn drying structure
She pits hersel an’ Rob in; puts
In loving bleeze they sweetly join, heat/flame
85 Till white in ase they’re sobbin: ashes
Nell’s heart was dancin at the view;
She whisper’d Rob to leuk for’t: tasted
Rob, stownlins, prie’d her bonie mou, stealthily, kissed, mouth
Fu’ cozie in the neuk for’t, snugly, corner
90 Unseen that night.
But Merran sat behint their backs, Marion
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea’es them gashan at their cracks, gabbing, conversation
An’ slips out by hersel:
95 She thro’ the yard the nearest taks,
An’ to the kiln she goes then,
An’ darklins grapet for the bauks, darkness, groped, cross-beam
And in the blue-clue8 throws them, yarn
Right fear’t that night.
100 An’ ay she win’t, an’ ay she swat, winded, sweated
I wat she made nae jaukin; bet, no delay
Till something held within the pat, pot/kiln
Guid Lord! but she was quakin! shaking
But whether ’twas the Deil himsel,
105 Or whether ’twas a bauk-en’, end of a beam
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,
She did na wait on talkin not
To spier that night. inquire/find out
Wee Jenny to her Graunie says, grandmother
110 ‘Will ye go wi’ me, Graunie?
I’ll eat the apple9 at the glass,
I gat frae uncle Johnie:’ got, from
She fuff’t her pipe wi’ sic a lunt, puffed, such, smoke
In wrath she was sae vap’rin, so, agitated
115 She notic’t na an aizle brunt not, cinder, burnt
Her braw, new, worset apron good, worsted/twisted yarn
Out thro’ that night.
‘Ye little Skelpie-limmer’s-face! hussy
I daur ye try sic sportin, dare, such
120 As seek the Foul Thief onie place, any
For him to spae your fortune: foretell
Nae doubt but ye may get a sight! no
Great cause ye hae to fear it; have
For monie a ane has gotten a fright, many, one
125 An’ liv’d an’ died deleeret, delerious/insane
On sic a night. such
‘Ae Hairst afore the Sherra-moor, one harvest before
I mind’t as weel’s yestreen, well as yesterday
I was a gilpey then, I’m sure young girl
130 I was na past fyfteen: not
The Simmer had been cauld an’ wat, summer, cold, wet
An’ Stuff was unco green; corn
An’ ay a rantan Kirn we gat, rollicking, harvest, got
An’ just on Halloween
135 It fell that night.
‘Our stibble-rig was Rab M’Graen, leader of the reapers
A clever, sturdy fallow; fellow
His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi’ wean, son, got, child
That lived in Achmachalla:
140 He gat hemp-seed,10 I mind it weel, got, well
An’ he made unco light o’t;
But monie a day was by himsel, many
He was sae sairly frighted so sorely
That vera night.’
145 Then up gat fechtan Jamie Fleck, got fighting
An’ he swoor by his conscience, swore
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; sow
For it was a’ but nonsense:
The auld guidman raught down the pock, old good-, reached, bag
150 An’ out a handfu’ gied him; gave
Syne bad him slip frae ’mang the folk, then, bade, from
Sometime when nae ane see’d him, no one, sees
An’ try’t that night.
He marches thro’ amang the stacks, among
155 Tho’ he was something sturtan; staggering
The graip he for a harrow taks, garden-fork
And haurls at his curpan; drags, rear
And ev’ry now and then, he says,
‘Hemp-seed I saw thee, sow
160 An’ her that is to be my lass
Come after me, an’ draw thee
As fast this night.’
He whistl’d up Lord Lenox’ March,
To keep his courage cheery;
165 Altho’ his hair began to arch, stand with fear
He was sae fley’d an’ eerie; so frightened
Till presently he hears a squeak,
An’ then a grane an’ gruntle; groan, grunt
He by his shouther gae a keek, shoulder gives, look
170 An’ tumbl’d wi’ a wintle somersault
Out-owre that night. over
He roar’d a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu’ desperation!
An’ young an’ auld come rinnan out, old, running
175 An’ hear the sad narration:
He swoor ‘twas hilchin Jean M’Craw, halting
Or crouchie Merran Humphie — hunchback
Till stop! she trotted thro’ them a’;
An’ wha was it but Grumphie who, the pig
180 Asteer that night? moving about
Me
g fain wad to the Barn gaen, content, would have gone
To winn three wechts o’ naething;11 dry corn, baskets, nothing
But for to meet the Deil her lane, all alone
She pat but little faith in: put
185 She gies the herd a pickle nits, gives, shepherd, few
An’ twa red-cheeket apples, two, -cheeked
To watch, while for the Barn she sets, goes
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That vera night. very
190 She turns the key wi’ cannie thraw, gentle, twist
An’ owre the threshold ventures; over
But first on Sawnie gies a ca’, Satan, gives, call
Syne bauldly in she enters: once boldly
A ratton rattl’d up the wa’, rat, wall
195 An’ she cry’d, Lord preserve her!
An’ ran thro’ midden-hole an’ a’, dung-hole
An’ pray’d wi’ zeal and fervour
Fu’ fast that night.
They hoy’t out Will, wi’ sair advice; urged, sore
200 They hecht him some fine braw ane; promised, fine one
It chane’d the Stack he faddom’t thrice,12 fathomed
Was timmer-propt for thrawin: wood stacked, support
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak twisted, old
For some black gruesome Carlin; old hag
205 An’ loot a winze, an’ drew a stroke, cursed, swiped
Till skin in blypes cam haurlin shreds, peeling
Aff’s nieves that night. off his fists
A wanton widow Leezie was,
As cantie as a kittlen; lively, kitten
210 But Och! that night, amang the shaws, among, large leaves & branches
She gat a fearfu’ settlin! got, severely unsettled
She thro’ the whins, an’ by the cairn, gorse bushes
An’ owre the hill gaed scrievin; over, went careering
Whare three Lairds’ lands met at a burn,13 where
215 To dip her left sark-sleeve in shirt-
Was bent that night.
Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, whiles over, waterfall, burns falls
As thro’ the glen it wimpl’t; meandered
Wyles round a rocky scaur it strays, jutting rocky edge
220 Whyles in a wiel it dimpl’t; whiles eddy
Whyles glitter’d to the nightly rays, reflected
Wi’ bickerin, dancin dazzle; running fast
Whyles cookit underneath the braes, whiles hid
Below the spreading hazel
225 Unseen that night.
Amang the brachens, on the brae, ferns, hillside
Between her an’ the moon,
The Deil, or else an outler Quey, stray young cow
Gat up an’ gae a croon: got, gave, moan
230 Poor Leezie’s heart maist lap the hool; almost leaped, sheath
Near lav’rock-height she jumpet, lark-flying level, jumped
But mist a fit, an’ in the pool missed a foot
Out-owre the lugs she plumpet -over, ears, plummeted
Wi’ a plunge that night.
235 In order, on the clean hearth-stane, -stone
The Luggies14 three are ranged; dishes
And ev’ry time great care is taen taken
To see them duly changed:
Auld uncle John, wha wedlock’s joys, old, who
240 Sin Mar’s-year15 did desire, since
Because he gat the toom dish thrice, got, empty
He heav’d them on the fire
In wrath that night.
Wi’ merry sangs, an’ friendly cracks, songs, conversation
245 I wat they did na weary; know, not
And unco tales, an’ funnie jokes, wondrous
Their sports were cheap an’ cheary:
Till butter’d Sow’ns,16 wi’ fragrant lunt, sour oat pudding, steam
Set a’ their gabs a-steerin; tongues, wagging
250 Syne, wi’ a social glass o’ strunt, whisky
They parted aff careerin off/away
Fu’ blythe that night.
Mackay’s edition omits the poet’s detailed notes to this work. They serve to assist the general reader in understanding the superstitious rural beliefs associated with Halloween. Due to the broad Scots language of the poem and its description of various superstitious rituals associated with peasant belief, much of the poem is unintelligible without the poet’s notes as in the Kilmarnock edition. Kinsley (no. 73) gives the notes but without indicating that they are Burns’s. The prose explanations of Burns reveal another example of his extraordinary talent for turning prose into poetry within the body of Halloween.
1 Cassilis Downans – Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis. R.B.
2 A noted cavern near Colean [Culzean] House, called the Cove of Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed, in country story, for being a favourite haunt of the fairies. R.B.
3 The famous family of that name, the ancestors of ROBERT, the great Deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick. R. B.
4 The first ceremony of Halloween, 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 custoc, 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. R.B.
5 They go to the barnyard, 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. R.B.
6 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 fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a ‘Fause-house’. R.B.
7 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 acccordingly as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the Courtship will be. R.B.
8 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 clew of blue yarn; wind it in a new clew off the old one; and, towards the latter end, something will hold the thread: demand Wha hauds?, i.e. Who holds? And answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the Christian and Sirname of your future Spouse. R.B.
9 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 if peeping over your shoulder. R.B.
10 Steal out unperceived and sow a handful of hemp-seed, harrowing it with anything you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then – ‘Hemp-seed I saw [sow] 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 shaw thee’, that is, show thyself; in which case, it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, ‘Come after me, and harrow thee.’ R.B.
11 This charm must likewise be performed unperceived and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges if possible; for there is danger that the being that is about to appear may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, wh
ich 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 or retinue, marking the employment or station in life. R.B.
12 Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a ‘bear-stack’ [stack of bere or bigg, a kind of barley] 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 yolk-fellow. R.B.
13 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. Ly awake, and sometime near 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. R.B.
14 Take three dishes, put clean water in one, foul water in another, 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 foretells with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times, and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered. R.B.
15 Mar’s-year: This was the year 1715, when the 11th Earl of Mar, John Erskine (1675–1732) spear-headed the Jacobite revolt to proclaim the Stuart Pretender King.
16 Sowens, with butter instead of milk, to them, is always the Halloween
Supper. R.B.
The Auld Farmers New-year Morning Salutation to his Auld Mare, Maggie
on giving her the accustomed ripp of corn to hansel in the new-year
First printed in the Kilmarnock edition, 1786.
A Guid New-Year I wish thee, Maggie!
Hae, there’s a ripp to thy auld baggie: handful, stomach
Tho’ thou’s howe-backit now, an’ knaggie, hollow-backed, knobbly