Analysis of Holy Fair, The

Robert Burns 1759 (Alloway) – 1796 (Dumfries)



1   Upon a simmer Sunday morn,
2       When Nature's face is fair,
3   I walked forth to view the corn
4       An' snuff the caller air.
5   The risin' sun owre Galston muirs
6       Wi' glorious light was glintin,
7   The hares were hirplin down the furrs,
8       The lav'rocks they were chantin
9           Fu' sweet that day.

10   As lightsomely I glowr'd abroad
11       To see a scene sae gay,
12   Three hizzies, early at the road,
13       Cam skelpin up the way.
14   Twa had manteeles o' dolefu' black,
15       But ane wi' lyart linin;
16   The third, that gaed a wee a-back,
17       Was in the fashion shining
18           Fu' gay that day.

19   The twa appear'd like sisters twin
20       In feature, form, an' claes;
21   Their visage wither'd, lang an' thin,
22       An' sour as ony slaes.
23   The third cam up, hap-step-an'-lowp,
24       As light as ony lambie,
25   An' wi' a curchie low did stoop,
26       As soon as e'er she saw me,
27           Fu' kind that day.

28   Wi' bonnet aff, quoth I, "Sweet lass,
29       I think ye seem to ken me;
30   I'm sure I've seen that bonie face,
31       But yet I canna name ye."
32   Quo' she, an' laughin as she spak,
33       An' taks me by the han's,
34   "Ye, for my sake, hae gien the feck
35       Of a' the ten comman's
36           A screed some day.

37   "My name is Fun--your cronie dear,
38       The nearest friend ye hae;
39   An' this is Superstition here,
40       An' that's Hypocrisy.
41   I'm gaun to Mauchline Holy Fair,
42       To spend an hour in daffin:
43   Gin ye'll go there, you runkl'd pair,
44       We will get famous laughin
45           At them this day."

46   Quoth I, "With a' my heart, I'll do't:
47       I'll get my Sunday's sark on,
48   An' meet you on the holy spot;
49       Faith, we'se hae fine remarkin!"
50   Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time
51         An' soon I made me ready;
52   For roads were clad frae side to side
53       Wi' monie a wearie body
54           In droves that day.

55   Here, farmers gash, in ridin graith,
56       Gaed hoddin by their cotters,
57   There swankies young, in braw braidclaith
58       Are springin owre the gutters.
59   The lasses, skelpin barefit, thrang,
60       In silks an' scarlets glitter,
61   Wi' sweet-milk cheese in mony a whang,
62       An' farls, bak'd wi' butter,
63           Fu' crump that day.

64   When by the plate we set our nose,
65       Weel heaped up wi' ha'pence,
66   A greedy glowr Black Bonnet throws,
67       An' we maun draw our tippence.
68   Then in we go to see the show:
69       On ev'ry side they're gath'rin,
70   Some carryin dails, some chairs an' stools,
71       An' some are busy bleth'rin
72           Right loud that day.

82   Here some are thinkin on their sins,
83       An' some upo' their claes;
84   Ane curses feet that fyl'd his shins,
85       Anither sighs an' prays:
86   On this hand sits a chosen swatch,
87       Wi' screw'd-up grace-proud faces;
88   On that a set o' chaps at watch,
89       Thrang winkin on the lasses
90           To chairs that day.

91   O happy is that man and blest!
92       Nae wonder that it pride him!
93   Whase ain dear lass that he likes best,
94       Comes clinkin down beside him!
95   Wi' arm repos'd on the chair back,
96       He sweetly does compose him;
97   Which by degrees slips round her neck,
98       An's loof upon her bosom,
99           Unken'd that day.

100 Now a' the congregation o'er
101     Is silent expectation;
102 For Moodie speels the holy door,
103     Wi' tidings o' salvation.
104 Should Hornie, as in ancient days,
105     'Mang sons o' God present him,
106 The vera sight o' Moodie's face
107     To's ain het hame had sent him
108         Wi' fright that day.

109 Hear how he clears the points o' faith
110     Wi' rattlin an' wi' thumpin!
111 Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath
112     He's stampin, an' he's jumpin!
113 His lengthen'd chin, his turn'd-up snout,
114     His eldritch squeal and gestures,
115 Oh, how they fire the heart devout
116     Like cantharidian plaisters,
117         On sic a day!

118 But hark! the tent has chang'd its voice:
119     There's peace and rest nae langer;
120 For a' the real judges rise,
121     They canna sit for anger.
122 Smith opens out his cauld harangues,
123     On practice and on moral


Scheme ABABCACAD XDXDEAEXD FCFCGHGHD CHCHECICD XXXCBFBAD HXXAXHXHD JCJCEKXKD CCCCXACAD CCCCLCLCD MNMNENIXD KOXOCNCND JAJAPCPCD CKCKCX
Poetic Form
Metre 0101011 110111 1111101 110101 0101111 1100111 0101101 01101 1111 111101 110111 1110101 11101 111111 11111 01110101 1001010 1111 01011101 010111 11010111 110111 01111111 111110 1101111 11110111 1111 11011111 1111111 1111111 111111 1111111 111101 11111101 10011 0111 1111111 010111 1110101 110100 1111101 11110010 1111111 111101 1111 111011111 111111 11110101 111111 1111111 1111110 11011111 110110 0111 1101011 11111 111011 111010 01111 011110 111101001 111110 1111 110111101 111111 01011101 1111101 10111101 11111 1111111 111101 1111 11110111 11111 11011111 1111 11110101 1111110 11011111 11101 1111 11011101 1101111 11111111 111011 1111011 1101011 11011101 1101010 111 10001010 110010 11010101 1101010 1110101 1111101 0101111 1111111 1111 11110111 11111 11011101 11111 11011111 1101010 111100101 111 1101 11011111 1101110 1001101 111110 11011101 1100110
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 4,203
Words 763
Sentences 30
Stanzas 13
Stanza Lengths 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 6
Lines Amount 114
Letters per line (avg) 25
Words per line (avg) 11
Letters per stanza (avg) 218
Words per stanza (avg) 96
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 23, 2023

4:00 min read
188

Robert Burns

Robert Burns was a Scottish poet and lyricist. more…

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