Classic Poem

A Song.

Tune, One Bottle more .

From the village of Lessly with a heart full of glee,
And my pack on my shoulders, Irambled out free,
Resolv'd that same ev'ning, as Luna was full,
To lodge ten miles distant, in old Achtertool.

Thro' many a lone cottage and farm-house I steer'd,
Took their money, and off with my budget I sheer'd;
The road I explor'd out, without form or rule,
Still asking the nearest to old Achtertool.

A clown I accosted, enquiring the road,
He star'd like an ideot, then roar'd out, " Gude G — d!
Gin ye're ga'n there for quarters, ye're surely a fool,
For there's nought but starvation in auld Achertool! "

Unminding his nonsense, my march I pursu'd,
Till I came to a hill top, where joyful I view'd,
Surrounded with mountains, and many a white pool,
To the small smoky village of old Achtertool.

At length I arriv'd at the edge of the town,
As Phaebus behind a high mountain went down;
The clouds gather'd dreary, and weather blew foul,
And I hugg'd myself safe now in old Achtertool.

An inn I enquir'd out, a lodging desir'd,
But the Landlady's pertness seem'd instantly fir'd;
For she saucy reply'd, as she sat carding wool,
" I ne'er kept sic lodgers in auld Achtertool. "

With scorn I soon left her to live on her pride;
But, asking, was told, there was none else beside,
Except an old Weaver, who now kept a school,
And these were the whole that were in Achtertool.

To his mansion I scamper'd, and rapt at the door;
He op'd, but as soon as I dar'd to implore,
He shut it like thunder, and utter'd a howl,
That rung through each corner of old Achtertool.

Provok'd now to fury, the Domini I curst,
And offer'd to cudgel the wretch, if he durst;
But the door he fast bolted, though Boreas blew cool,
And left me all friendless in old Achtertool.

Depriv'd of all shelter, thro' darkness I trod,
Till I came to a ruin'd old house by the road;
Here the night I will spend, and, inspir'd by the Owl,
I'll send up some prayers for old Achtertool.