h going to kirk and market in the
beginning of the eighteenth century. There is, too, a pleasant touch of
individuality in the musical street cry that wakes the morn.
"From when the cock proclaims the rising day,
And milkmaids sing around _sweet curds and whey_,
Till grey-eyed twilight, harbinger of night,
Pursues o'er silver mountains sinking light,
I can unwearied from my casements view
The Plaid, with something still about it new.
How are we pleased when, with a handsome air,
We see Hepburna walk with easy care!
One arm half circles round her slender waist,
The other like an ivory pillar placed,
To hold her plaid around her modest face,
Which saves her blushes with the gayest grace;
If in white kids her slender fingers move,
Or, unconfined, jet through the sable glove.
"With what a pretty action Keitha holds
Her plaid, and varies oft its airy folds!
How does that naked space the spirits move,
Between the ruffled lawn and envious glove!
We by the sample, though no more be seen,
Imagine all that's fair within the screen.
"Thus belles in plaids veil and display their charms,
The love-sick youth thus bright Humea warms,
And with her graceful mien her rivals all alarms."
The fair Hepburna, Humea, Campbella, and the rest may tempt the reader
to a smile; but the picture has its value, and is a detail of importance
in the realisation of that animated and crowded scene. By this time
probably Ramsay had removed his shop to the end of the Luckenbooths,
which faced "east" to the unencumbered portion of the High Street, where
the City Cross stood, and where all the notable persons made their daily
promenade. It was here that he was visited by a kindred spirit, the poet
Gay, who had been brought to Edinburgh by his patroness the Duchess of
Queensberry, and soon formed acquaintance with the local poet. The two
little roundabout bards used to stand together at the door of the shop
to watch the crowd, in which no doubt Ramsay would be gratified by a
friendly nod from the Lord President, and swell with civic and with
personal pride to point out to the English visitor that distinguished
Scotsman the loyal and the learned Forbes. The Cross, round which this
genteel and witty crowd assembled daily, stood then, according to the
plans of the period, in the centre of the High Street, where it had been
removed for the advantage of greater
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