Cuddle Doon
by Alexander Anderson
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht
Wi muckle faught and din.
"Oh try an' sleep, ye waukrife rogues,
Your faither's comin' in."
They niver heed a word I speak,
I try tae gie a...Cuddle Doon
by Alexander Anderson
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht
Wi muckle faught and din.
"Oh try an' sleep, ye waukrife rogues,
Your faither's comin' in."
They niver heed a word I speak,
I try tae gie a froon,
But aye I hap' them up an' cry
"Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon!"
Wee Jamie wi' the curly heid,
He aye sleeps next the wa'
Bangs up and cries, "I want a piece!"
The rascal starts them a'.
I rin and fetch them pieces, drinks,
They stop a wee the soun',
Then draw the blankets up an' cry,
"Noo, weanies, cuddle doon."
But ere five minutes gang, wee Rab
Cries oot frae neath the claes,
"Mither, mak' Tam gie ower at aince,
He's kittlin' wi' his taes."
The mischief in that Tam for tricks,
He'd bother half the toon,
But aye I hap them up an' cry,
"Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon!"
At length they hear their faither's fit
An' as he steeks the door,
They turn their faces tae the wa'
An Tam pretends tae snore.
"Hae a' the weans been gude?" he asks,
As he pits aff his shoon.
"The bairnies, John, are in their beds
An' lang since cuddled doon!"
An' just afore we bed oorsel's
We look at oor wee lambs,
Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck
An Rab his airm roun' Tam's.
I lift wee Jamie up the bed
An' as I straik each croon,
I whisper till my heart fills up:
"Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon!"
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht
Wi' mirth that's dear tae me.
But soon the big warl's cark an' care
Will quaten doon their glee.
Yet come what will to ilka ane,
May He who rules aboon,
Aye whisper, though their pows be bald:
"Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon!"
Apparently Samuel Thomson was an herbalist of some renown as well as a poet and school master as this article shows.
A Short "Course" in Thomsonian Medicine
Written By: Steven Horne
Categorized i...Apparently Samuel Thomson was an herbalist of some renown as well as a poet and school master as this article shows.
A Short "Course" in Thomsonian Medicine
Written By: Steven Horne
Categorized in: Herbs & Herbalism
Anyone who has heard me lecture over the years has probably heard me refer to an herbalist named Samuel Thomson, because many of my ideas came from his writings. Thomson, who lived in the early 1800s had six basic remedies that he used to treat just about everything, following a systematic procedure. Here's a brief description of what Thomsonian medicine entailed, along with a description of Thomson's six basic remedies.
Thomson's number one, lobelia, was used to clear obstructions from the system. It was used in frequently repeated doses along with his number two remedy, capsicum, which was used to “raise the heat.” Thomson believed that disease was caused by cold (loss of vital energy) and obstruction in the system. Lobelia was often given until it induced vomiting to “clear the stomach,” but was always administered with capsicum, ginger or another stimulant to raise vital energy.
This was followed or in some cases preceded by frequent doses of Thomson's number three, composition powder, a combination of bayberry rootbark, hemlock spruce or white pine, ginger, cayenne and cloves. Nature's Sunshine Products sells composition under the trade name HCP-X. The HCP is short for Herbal Composition Powder and the X indicates it was a John Christopher formula. Doses of this composition tea were given orally throughout the course of treatment. It was often administered rectally in an enema to open the bowel or to arrest diarrhea. Composition tea was supposed to “scour the bowels to remove the canker” (mucus).
When the patient was not feeble, he or she was “steamed” next. To create a mini-sauna, the patient was placed on a chair and wrapped in a blanket. A pan of water was placed at their feet into which a hot stone was dropped to create the steam. The stone was changed as soon as it was cool and more cayenne and composition were administered until the patient was perspiring freely. If the patient was weak, he or she was fed mild food for several days before undergoing this procedure.
These three procedures cleansed the body by emptying the stomach, cleansing the bowel and opening the sweat glands. After being “cleansed” in this manner, the patient was put to bed and permitted to rest.
The final step was the administration of number four, a bitter digestive tonic, consisting of herbs such as golden seal and poplar bark. This was drunk for several days before meals “to correct the bile and restore digestion.”
In cases of diarrhea, a syrup, Thompson formula number five, was used. A tincture of myrrh and cayenne was number six. There were a few other formulas which might be added to the treatment for special purposes such as a nerve powder, but the above six were the basic remedies, and the first four were the most important. There were substitutes for each of the basic six, because Thomson recognized that different herbs could be used in the procedure as long as they produced the desired effect.
The above was considered a “course” in Thomsonian treatment. Usually, it took only one “course” of treatment to relieve the condition, but sometimes the procedure was repeated several times. (I sometimes think that by the third course you'd want to get well just to avoid having to go through all that again.)
Thomsonian Medicine in Poetic Form
The following is a poem taken from Samuel Thomson's book, A New Guide to Health. I've added some annotations in brackets to clarify what he means in certain cases. I got my idea for the Disease Tree model from this poem.
Th'Emetic number ONE's design'd [#1 = lobelia]
A gen'ral med'cine for mankind,
Of every country, clime, or place,
Wide as the circle of our race.
In every case, and state, and stage,
Whatever malady may rage;
For male or female, young or old,
Nor can its value half be told.
To use this med'cine do not cease,
Till you are helped of your disease;
For NATURE'S FRIEND, this sure will be,
When you are taken sick at sea.
Let number TWO be used as bold, [#2 = composition]
To clear the stomach of the cold;
Next steep the coffee, number THREE, [#3 = capsicum]
And keep as warm as you can be.
A hot stone at the feet now keep,
As well as inward warmth repeat,
The fountain 'bove the stream keep clear,
And perspiration will appear.
When sweat enough, as you suppose,
In spirit wash, and change your clothes;
Again to bed, both clean and white,
And sleep in comfort all the night.
Should the disorder reinforce,
Then follow up the former course;
The second time I think will do,
The third to fail I seldom knew.
Now take your bitters by the way, [#4 = digestive bitters]
Two, three, or four times in a day;
Your appetite, if it be good,
You may eat any kind of food.
Physic, I would by no means choose [physics are herbal laxatives like cascara]
To have you first or last to use;
For if you take it much in course,
It will disorder reinforce.
If anyone should be much bruis'd,
Where bleeding frequently is used,
A lively sweat upon that day,
Will start the blood a better way.
Let names of all disorders be
Like to the limbs, join'd on a tree;
Work on the root, and that subdue,
Then all the limbs will bow to you.
So as the body is the tree,
The limbs are colic, pleurisy,
Worms and gravel, gout and stone,
Remove the cause, and they are gone.
My system's founded on this truth,
Man's Air and Water, Fire and Earth,
And death is cold, and life is heat,
These temper'd well, your health's complete.
One by Samuel Thomson...
The COUNTRY DANCE.
O! ye douce fok, that live by rule,
Grave, tideless-blooded, calm an’ cool,
Compar’d wi’ you — O! fool! fool! fool!
How much unlike!
Your hearts are just a standi...One by Samuel Thomson...
The COUNTRY DANCE.
O! ye douce fok, that live by rule,
Grave, tideless-blooded, calm an’ cool,
Compar’d wi’ you — O! fool! fool! fool!
How much unlike!
Your hearts are just a standing pool,
Your lives, a dyke!
Burns.
I.
Come muse, wha aft in merry tift,
Has ventur’d on the lyre;
Wha aft frae laverocks in the lift,
Has snatch’d poetic fire:
Come ye wha snug in hawthorn shade,
Sworn foe to spleen an’ care,
Enraptur’d e’ed the corny glade,
An’ sung the SIMMER FAIR
Ance on a day.
II.
But Simmer fairs an’ wabster louns
Maun a’ be laid aside:
Or basted ribs an’ broken crowns
Will aiblins us betide —
We’ll drap the silly theme at ance,
The merry maids an’ swains,
For singing quaint o’ Habbie’s dance,
Will thank us for our pains,
An’ stroak our head.
III.
Aurora fair had quat the plain,
And harrowers lous’d their naigs,
And seeds-men set, their supper taen,
To smoak an’ rest their legs:
Whan lads an’ lasses blythe an’ kin’,
To Habbies wad repair,
A few short hours to ease their min’
O warl’y moil an’ care,
An’ dance that night.
IV.
To see them scourin’ doun the dykes,
In shauls an’ aprons glancin,
An’ here an’ there the cottage tykes
Ay yelping at a chance ane:
An’ ithers rantin’ o’er the braes,
Their hearts as light as cork-wood,
An’ whistling some o’er bogs an leas,
Ye’d true the fok were stark-wood
On sic a’ night.
V.
There at Hab’s yard the rural group,
In merry mood convene,
Whar some are at hap-step-an’-loup
While ithers put the stane:
But soon the fiddle’s dainty dint,
Recalls the halewar in,
Whar pauky R------ wi’ double squint,
Invites them to begin
The sport this night.
VI.
Come muse, we’ll o’er to Habbie’s hie,
The e’ening’s calm an’ fair
At hame what need we snoaring lie —
An sican pastime there:
We’ll aiblins meet wi’ L------ an’ J------
That dainty, social pair,
And get wi’ them a dance an’ crack,
Weel worth our gangin’ there
This bonie night.
VII.
Here some are come to crack an’ joke,
An’ toy amang the lasses;
An’ some to blether spit an’ smoak,
An’ bray like highland asses,
An’ some to tauk o’ ky an’ corn,
Potatoes, sheep an’ horses,
An’ some as thrawn wi’ spleen an’ scorn
As they’d been fed on curses
Since their first day.
VIII.
Now o’er the floor in wanton pairs,
They foot it to the fiddle;
The maidens muster a’ their airs
The young men skip an’ striddle.
Ah! simple young things, ay beware
O’ lurking Inclination!
The clergy say, whan hobblin’ there,
Ye’re wabblin’ temptation
To ane anither. —
IX.
At countra’ dances, jigs an’ reels,
Alternately they ranted;
Lads nimbly ply’d their rustic heels,
An’ maidens pegh’d an’ panted —
Here Rabin lap wi’ buxom Jean,
An Liza wi’ her Johney,
While Willy in the neuk unseen,
Kiss’d Meg as sweet as honey
To her that night.
X.
Kings may roll in state, an’ Lords
Enjoy their ill-got treasures;
Compar’d to this their wealth affords
But superficial pleasures.
Such happiness with pomp an’ pride,
Is seldom ever seen,
As here with rural swains abide,
In countra’ barns at e’en,
On sic a night.
XI.
O Burns! had I but half thy skill —
Thy bonie, silken stile,
Description here shou’d flow at will,
In numbers smooth as oil: -
But here I’ll ask my reader’s leave,
To make a short digression,
It aiblins may in future prieve
To some a warnin’ lesson
Anither night.
XII.
Behind a noest o’ drawn strae,
I’ the end o’ Habbie’s stack-yard:
Poor simple Maggy a’ night lay
Wi’ Dick, that squintin’ black-guard;
Fair maidens oft may sport an’ dance,
Their min’s but little harm in,
But ah! the dolefu’ consequence,
Three quarters did determine
To Maggy strang.
XIII.
Poor Meg! the scoff o’ ilka chiel,
Forgrutten pale an’ shabby,
Now ca’s about her lonely wheel
An’ rocks asleep her babby!
Frae her, ye maids a lesson glean,
An’ trust yoursels wi’ no man,
’Bout strae or bourtray neuks alane
At dancings i’ the gloamin,
For fear o’ skaith.
XIV.
Its weel wat I, the lee-lang night,
They neither fash’d nor tired;
A gayer groupe, ’tis true ye might,
But neededna desired. —
Here, far remov’d from city’s strife,
Gay health an’ young content,
With pleasure gilds the shepherd’s life,
While worldlings hearts are rent
Wi’ care an’ fear.
XV.
Now rosy morn frae th’ eastern steeps,
The shades o’ night gan tirl,
An’ larks began wi’ tunefu’ cheeps,
Their morning springs to skirl:
The lasses a’ grown brave an’ tame,
Alang the dewy fields,
With kilted coaties hie them hame,
Escorted by the chiels,
In monie a pair.
XVI.
Thus ilka ane for hame o’erhies,
Some near, an’ some a mile-hence;
Whilst meagre R------b wi’ heavy eyes,
Gies o’er the Barn to silence.
Ill satisfy’d — in’s craving purse,
The Cappers up he clinks!
The haf’ o’t’s raps — he gies a curse!
Then girnin’, grumbling! slinks
O’er next the Miltoun.
Scottish Poetry shared a photo
Samuel Thomson (1766-1816), the bard of Carngranny as well as a schoolteacher, was one of the Ulster folk poets who was influenced by Burns. He wrote several poems about Burns including an Epistle to ...Samuel Thomson (1766-1816), the bard of Carngranny as well as a schoolteacher, was one of the Ulster folk poets who was influenced by Burns. He wrote several poems about Burns including an Epistle to Mr R[ober]t B[urn]s, which was published in 1792. Thomson sent a copy of the poem to Burns who expressed his appreciation and sent a present of books to the Ulster poet. He dedicated a volume of his poetry published in 1793 to ‘Mr Robert Burns, the Ayrshire poet’ and in 1794 he travelled to Dumfries to meet Burns and exchange poems. Thereafter he corresponded with him until the death of Burns in 1796.
In 1793 Samuel Thomson published Poems on Different Subjects, partly in the Scottish Dialect. This was the earliest volume of collected poems published by any of the Ulster folk poets and it had a list of subscribers that included quite a number of prominent Belfast gentlemen. Among them were Samuel Neilson and Henry Joy McCracken, who were members of the Society of United Irishmen.
Indeed can it not be argued that the United Irishmen in Ulster did more for the Ulster-Scots language than they did for the Irish language?
The great enthusiasm at the end of the 18th century for the poetry of Burns and the Ulster folk poets is not in any way surprising. When the French aristocrat Le Chevalier de la Tochnaye visited Belfast in 1797 he found that, 'Belfast has almost entirely the look of a Scotch town, and the character of the inhabitants has considerable resemblance to that of the people of Glasgow.' Moreover when Amyas Griffith came to Belfast in 1780 as Surveyor of Excise he noted that ‘the common people speak broad Scotch, and the better sort differ vastly from us, both in accent and language.’
Belfast was still a very small town but it was an Ulster-Scots town and Ulster-Scots was the language of the hearth and home in the town just as it was the language of the hearth and home in many rural areas. It was the language of the ordinary people and was passed on from generation to generation.
The Outlaw by Sir Walter Scott (1771 - 1832)
O, Brignall banks are wild and fair,
And Greta woods are green,
And you may gather garlands there,
Would grace a summer queen:
And as I rode by Da...The Outlaw by Sir Walter Scott (1771 - 1832)
O, Brignall banks are wild and fair,
And Greta woods are green,
And you may gather garlands there,
Would grace a summer queen:
And as I rode by Dalton Hall,
Beneath the turrets high,
A Maiden on the castle wall
Was singing merrily:—
'O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green!
I'd rather rove with Edmund there
Than reign our English Queen.'
'If, Maiden, thou wouldst wend with me
To leave both tower and town,
Thou first must guess what life lead we,
That dwell by dale and down:
And if thou canst that riddle read,
As read full well you may,
Then to the green-wood shalt thou speed
As blithe as Queen of May.'
Yet sung she, 'Brignall banks are fair,
And Greta woods are green!
I'd rather rove with Edmund there
Than reign our English Queen.
'I read you by your bugle horn
And by your palfrey good,
I read you for a Ranger sworn
To keep the King's green-wood.'
'A Ranger, Lady, winds his horn,
And 'tis at peep of light;
His blast is heard at merry morn,
And mine at dead of night.'
Yet sung she, 'Brignall banks are fair,
And Greta woods are gay!
I would I were with Edmund there,
To reign his Queen of May!
'With burnish'd brand and musketoon
So gallantly you come,
I read you for a bold Dragoon,
That lists the tuck of drum.'
'I list no more the tuck of drum,
No more the trumpet hear;
But when the beetle sounds his hum,
My comrades take the spear.
'And O! though Brignall banks be fair,
And Greta woods be gay,
Yet mickle must the maiden dare,
Would reign my Queen of May!
'Maiden! a nameless life I lead,
A nameless death I'll die;
The fiend whose lantern lights the mead
Were better mate than I!
And when I'm with my comrades met
Beneath the green-wood bough,
What once we were we all forget,
Nor think what we are now.'
Chorus
Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green,
And you may gather flowers there
Would grace a summer queen.
The Maister and the Bairns by William Thomson
The Maister sat in the wee cot hoose
By the Jordan's waters near,
An' the fisherfolk crushed an' crooded roon'
...The Maister and the Bairns by William Thomson
The Maister sat in the wee cot hoose
By the Jordan's waters near,
An' the fisherfolk crushed an' crooded roon'
The Maister's words tae hear.
An' even the bairn's frae the near-haun streets
Were mixin' in wi' the thrang,
Laddies an' lassies wi' wee bare feet
Jinkin' the crood amang.
But yin o' the twal' at the Maister's side
Rose up and cried alood:
'Come, come, bairns, this is nae place for you,
Rin awa' hame oot the crood.'
But the Maister said as they turned awa',
'Let the wee yins come tae Me'.
An' he gaithered them roon' Him whaur He sat
An' lifted yin on His knee.
Ay, He gaithered them roon' Him whaur He sat
An' straiked their curly hair,
An' He said tae the wonderin' fisherfolk
That crushed an' crooded there:
'Send na the bairns awa' frae Me
But raither this lesson lairn:
That nane'll win in at Heaven's yett
That hisna the hert o' a bairn.'
An' he that wisna oor kith or kin
But a Prince o' the Far Awa',
He gaithered the wee yins in His airms
An' blessed them yin an'a'.
William Henry Ogilvie
1869-1963
Born in Kelso, Scotland, Ogilvie moved to Australia at the age of twenty. One of his reasons for leaving his homeland was his admiration of the writer Adam Lindsay Gordon...William Henry Ogilvie
1869-1963
Born in Kelso, Scotland, Ogilvie moved to Australia at the age of twenty. One of his reasons for leaving his homeland was his admiration of the writer Adam Lindsay Gordon and like Gordon, a great love for horses. When he arrived in Australia he found work as a drover, a breaker, and a musterer. He worked at Maroupe, located in South Australia as well as Belalie on the Warrego. It was during this time that he began writing, his poetry focusing on the Outback life and it's many adventures in an acclamatory, romantic verse. Ogilvie had many of his works published in the Mount Gambier Border Watch, the Australasian and the Bulletin. A couple of years before his return to Scotland in 1901 he published his most well known collection of verse in 1898. It is considered to be his best and most notable piece of work.
While all of his works were published in Australia, he never returned. After his return to Scotland he continued to write poems that concerned the Scottish borders. The well known poet, Hugh McDairmund, hailed his work as a triumph. Unfortunately, though he was successful in both countries, he died practically unknown and has become one of the more obscure poets of that era.
If I Were Old
If I were old, a broken man and blind,
and one should lead me to Mid-Eildon's crest,
and leave me there a little time to rest
sharing the hilltop with the Border wind,
the whispering heather, and the curlew's cry,
I know the blind dark could not be so deep,
so cruel and clinging, but that I
should see the sunlit curve of Cheviot's steep
rise blue and friendly on the distant sky!
There is no darkness - God! there cannot be
so heavy as to curtain from my sight
the beauty of those Border slopes that lie
far south before me, and a love-found light
would shine upon the slow Tweed loitering by
with gift of song and silver to the sea!-
No dark can ever hide this dear loved land from me
Here is an amusing poem by Alexander Rodger, set in the days when horses had to be taken to the blacksmith to be shod - and persuading a girl to marry seemed a lot faster than today!
Robin Ta...Here is an amusing poem by Alexander Rodger, set in the days when horses had to be taken to the blacksmith to be shod - and persuading a girl to marry seemed a lot faster than today!
Robin Tamson's Smiddy
My mither ment my auld breeks,
An wow! but they were duddy,
And sent me to get Mally shod
At Robin Tamson's smiddy;
The smiddy stands beside the burn
That wimples through the clachan.
I never yet gae by the door,
But aye I faw a-lauchin.
For Robin was a walthy carle
An had ae bonnie dochter,
Yet neer wad let her tak a man,
Tho mony lads had socht her;
But what think ye o ma exploit?
The time our mare was shoein,
I slippit up beside the lass,
And briskly fell a-wooin.
An aye she eed my auld breeks,
The time that we sat crackin,
Quo I, 'My lass, neer mind the clouts,
I've new anes for the makkin;
But gin ye'll just come hame wi me,
An lea the carle your father,
Ye'se get my breeks to keep in trim,
Mysel, an aw thegither'.
'Deed lad' quo she, 'your offer's fair,
I really think I'll tak it.
Sae, gang awa, get out the mare,
We'll baith slip on the back o't:
For gin I wait my faither's time,
I'll wait till I be fifty;
But na! - I'll marry in my prime,
An mak a wife most thrifty.'
Wow! Robin was an angry man,
At tyning o his dochter:
Thro aw the kintra-side he ran,
An far an near he socht her;
But when he cam to oor fire-end,
An fand us baith thegither,
Quo I 'Gudeman, I've taen your bairn,
An ye may tak my mither.'
Auld Robin girn'd an sheuk his pow.
'Guid sooth!' quo he, 'ye're merry;
but I'll just tak ye at your word,
An end this hurry-burry.'
So Robin an oor auld wife
Agreed to creep thegither;
Now, I hae Robin Tamson's pet,
An Robin has my mither.
Meaning of unusual words:
ment my auld breeks=mended my old trousers (pants, in some parts of the world)
duddy=ragged, tattered
smiddy=blacksmith
wimples=winds, meanders
clachan=village
faw a-lauchin=fall about laughing
walthy carle=wealthy rascal
ae bonnie dochter=one good-looking daughter
crackin=talking
clouts=clothes
gin=if
gang awa=went away
tyning=loss, disappearance
kintra-side=country-side
Gudeman=master of the house
bairn=child
girn'd=complained
pow=head
hurry-burry=confusion
Blows The Wind Today
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Blows the wind today, and the sun and the rain are flying,
Blows the wind on the moors today and now,
Where about the graves of the martyrs the whaups are cr...Blows The Wind Today
by Robert Louis Stevenson
Blows the wind today, and the sun and the rain are flying,
Blows the wind on the moors today and now,
Where about the graves of the martyrs the whaups are crying,
My heart remembers how!
Grey recumbent tombs of the dead in desert places,
Standing stones on the vacant wine-red moor,
Hills of sheep, and the howes of the silent vanished races,
And winds, austere and pure:
Be it granted to me to behold you again in dying,
Hills of home! and to hear again the call;
Hear about the graves of the martyrs the peewees crying,
And hear no more at all.
Jessy Lewars (1778-1855)
The last of Robbie Burns' heroines.
Jessy was heard by the Bard singing 'the Robin cam' to the Wren's Nest' and composed for the air in his own words 'O wert thou in the cauld b...Jessy Lewars (1778-1855)
The last of Robbie Burns' heroines.
Jessy was heard by the Bard singing 'the Robin cam' to the Wren's Nest' and composed for the air in his own words 'O wert thou in the cauld blast'.
Jessy helped nurse him in his last 6 months and after his death cared for the poets' 4 small boys.
Jessy Lewars married James Thomson, a writer in Dumfies, in June 1799 and had 5 sons and 2 daughters. She was buried in St. Michael's Churchyard, Dumfies not far from Burns's own grave.
O WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST
O wert thou in the cauld blast,
On yonder lea, on yonder lea,
My plaidie to the angry airt,
I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee;
Or did Misfortune's bitter storms
around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield should be my bosom,
To share it a', to share it a'.
Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare.
The desert were a Paradise,
If thou wert there, if thou wert there;
Or were I Monarch o' the globe,
Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my Crown
Wad be my Queen, wad be my Queen.
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