1793 Poem, Samuel Thomson, ‘Elegy to my Auld Shoen’
Author: Samuel Thomson
Date: 1793
Source: Poem: ‘Elegy to my Auld Shoen’, from Poems, on Different Subjects, partly in the Scottish Dialect by Samuel Thomson (Belfast: printed for the author, 1793).
Comments: Samuel Thomson (1766–1816) from Lyles Hill near Templepatrick in South Antrim was the editor of the ‘Poets’ Corner’ in the Belfast United Irishman newspaper Northern Star until the paper was closed down in 1797. He exchanged poems with, and visited, Robert Burns, and published three books containing Ulster-Scots poetry — in 1793, 1799 and 1806. An account of his life and poetry can be found in the Introduction to The Country Rhymes of Samuel Thomson, by Philip Robinson and Ernest Scott (Belfast, 1992).
Doc. ref. no.: USLS/TB/Poetry/1700-1799/017
ELEGY, to my auld SHOEN.
Adieu my pumps, your days are done;
Ah wae is me, your race is run!
Now to the mools, my worthy shoen,
I’m forc’d to send ye!
The cobler has declar’d ye gone —
He canna’ mend ye!
Tho’ yet I shall be laith to scorn ye,
O’er monie a moss and moor ye’ve born me,
An’ monie a lang an’ dreary journey
Baith late, an’ soon,
Thro’ days an’ nights cauld, wat an’ stormy,
But now ye’re done.
I’ll say’t, great pains I took alway,
To gie ye baith alike fair play:
I chang’d ye duly ilka day
I pat ye on;
But now, gude faith I’m e’en right wae,
To see ye done.
Three quarters now are near han’ past,
Sin that night ye cam aff the last;
Ye never gat an hour’s rest,
Save whan I slept:
Mair honest stuff was never drest,
O’ cawf or kip.
Nae mair my social hours ye’ll dree;
Nae mair ye’ll scour the daisied lee;
Nae mair to dance ye’ll carry me,
Nor ever mair
Those happiest of my minutes see
Beside my fair.
But why shou’d I at fate repine?
’Tis just the same wi a’ man kin’:
Then let us a’ to heaven resign;
For, like our shoen,
From lifes meridian we decline
Until we’re done.
