1717.

AN ELEGY

ON LUCKY WOOD

O Canongate! poor elritch hole,
What lofs, what croffes doft thou thole!
London and death † gar thee look drole,

And hing thy head:

Wow, but thou hast e'en a cauld coal
To blaw indeed.

Hear me, ye hills, and every glen,
Ilk craig, ilk cleugh, and hollow den,
And echo fhrill, that a' may ken

The

* Lucky Wood kept an alehoufe in the Canongate; was much refpected for hofpitality, honefty, and the neatness both of her perfon and house.

The place of her refidence being the greatest sufferer by the lofs of our members of parliament, which London now enjoys, many of them having their houses there, being the fuburb of Edinburgh nearest the king's palace; this, with the death of Lucky Wood, are fufficient to make the place ruinous.

The waefou thud

Be rackless Death, wha came unseen *
To Lucky Wood.

She's dead, o'er true, she 's dead and gane,
Left us and Willie † burd alane.

To bleer and greet, to fob and mane,
And rugg our hair,

Because we 'll ne'er fee her again
For ever mair.

She gae'd as fait as a new preen,
And kept her houfie fnod and been;
Her pewther glanc'd upo' your een
Like filler plate:

She was a donfie wife and clean,
Without debate.

It did ane good to fee her ftools,
Her boord, fire-fide, and facing-tools;
Rax, chandlers, tangs, and fire-fhools,

Basket

* Or unfent for. There is nothing extraordinary in this, it being his common cuftom; except in fome few inftances of late, fince the falling of the bubbles, i. e. South-Sea ad

venturers.

Her husband William Wood.

Stoups, or pots and cups; fo called from the facers.

Basket wi' bread.

*

Poor facers now may chew pea-hools,

Since Lucky 's dead.

She ne'er gae in a lawin faufe †,
Nor ftoups a' froath aboon the hause,
Nor kept dow'd tip within her waws,
But reaming fwats;

She ne'er ran four jute, because
It gees the batts.

She had the gate fae well to please,
With gratis beef, dry fifh, or cheese,
Which kept our purses ay at ease,
And health in tift,

And lent her fresh nine gallon trees
A hearty lift.

She

*The facers were a club of fair drinkers, who inclined rather to spend a fhilling on ale than two pence for meat. They had their name from a rule, which they obferved of obliging themfelves to throw all they left in the cup in their own faces; wherefore, to fave their face and clothes, they prudently fucked the liquor clean out.

All this verfe is a fine picture of an honeft ale-fellera rarity.

She gae us oft hail legs o' lamb,
And did nae hain her mutton ham ;
Then aye at Yule whene'er we came,
A braw goofe-pye;

And was na that good belly-baum?
Nane dare deny.

The writer lads fow well may mind her,
Furthy was fhe, her luck defign'd her
Their common mither, fure nane kinder
Ever brake bread;

She has na left her mak behind her,
But now fhe 's dead.

To the fma' hours we aft fat ftill,
Nick'd round our toafts and fnishing-mill;
Good cakes we wanted ne'er at will,
The best of bread;

Which aften coft us mony a gill

To Aikenhead *.

Could

The Nether-bow porter, to whom Lucky's customers were often obliged for opening the port for them, when they ftaid out till the small hours after midnight.

Could our faut tears like Clyde down rin,
And had we cheeks like Corra's Lin*.
That a' the warld might hear the din
Rair frae ilk head;

She was the wale of a' her kin,
But now the 's dead.

O Lucky Wood! 'tis hard to bear
The lofs; but oh! we maun forbear:
Yet fall thy memory be dear

While blooms a tree;

And after-ages' bairns will spear 'Bout thee and me.

EPITAPH.

Beneath this fod
Lies Lucky Wood,

Whom a' men might put faith in;
Wha was na fweer,

While fhe winn'd here,

To cram our wames for naithing.

A very high precipice nigh Lanerk, over which the river Clyde falls, making a great noife, which is heard fome miles off.