[Sung at a concert in the Black Bull Inn Hall, Kirkintilloch, May 14th, 1850.]
Air - " Calder Fair " or " Cockie Bendie. "
There's mony an unco up an' doun
In thae times that we leeve in.
There's changes in this very toun
In mae things than the weavin' ;
'Tis thranger set, 'tis wider roun',
'Tis higher in the air, man,
Sin' first I cam' a beardless clown
Tae Kirkintilloch fair, man.
Leuk up an' see oor weathercock
That faces up the storm, man;
Observe the motion o' oor clock,
An' hear the bell inform, man;
The spire that hauds them up tae view,
Tae gi'e them mair effect, man,
Ha'e in their turns been counted new
Sin' I can recolleck, man.
At changin' o' the winter moons
Our streets were dark at nicht, man,
An' bodies gaun nocturnal roun's,
Gat mony a time a fricht, man;
But noo, whane'er the moon's awa'
Gae thro' oor streets at een, man,
The lamps a' shinin' in a raw,
Ye'll see tae lift a preen, man.
The Saturdays, as they do still,
Cam' this way aince a week, man,
An' market comers coft their gill
Weel flavour't wi' peat reek, man ;
The pawky merchants waited on
The thrifty wives for yarn, man,
An' wabsters pace't athort the loan
Wi' oxterfu's o' harn, man.
A lint-seed Saturday, I min',
Was maist as guid's a fair, man,
As scores o' dealers in the line
Wi' guinea notes were there, man;
The Riga brought the better price,
New Englan' whiles was blate, man,
An' caps o' gill for richt advice
Were snappet doun-'e-gaet, man.
But whaur's the lint-seed merchant now?
A sicht o' ane is rare, man,
The month o' March gaes bye, I trou,
An' no a barrel there, man.
A spinnin' wheel on the floor-head
Is countet something odd, man,
The stuff that fills the weaver's reed
Comes in frae far abroad, man.
The chaps wha selt the lint in stricks,
An' coft the yarn in hanks, man,
Were feckly forc't tae gang an' mix
Amang some ither ranks, man;
An' aye the price o' weavin' fell,
Till pouches wou'dna chuck, man,
An' thousan's had a tale tae tell
About the want o' luck, man.
But trade again is gettin' spunk,
The price o' meal is easy,
An' feelin hearts, in poortith sunk,
Ha'e got a hearty heezie.
We've wark tae keep us in our place,
Bring in a groat to ware, man,
An' meet a frien' wi' better grace
At kirkintilloch fair, man.
Oor concert's wearin' tae an en',
The programme is complete, man.
The leddies noo, an' gentlemen,
May up and shake their feet, man,
We're leukin' for a merry ball,
Oor music doth excel, man,
An' I've a min', altho' I'm aul',
Tae try a reel mysel', man.
THERE’S MONY AN UNCO UP AN’ DOUN
The Village of Chryston - North Lanarkshire - Scotland