Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
Auchtertool
By Alexander Wilson (17661813)F
And my pack on my shoulders, I rambled out free,
Resolved that same evening, as Luna was full,
To lodge, ten miles distant, in old Auchtertool.
Took their money, and off with my budget I sheered;
The road I explored out, without form or rule,
Still asking the nearest to old Auchtertool.
As Phœbus, behind a high mountain, went down;
The clouds gathered dreary, and weather blew foul,
And I hugged myself safe now in old Auchtertool.
But the landlady’s pertness seemed instantly fired;
For she saucy replied, as she sat carding wool,
“I ne’er kept sic lodgers in auld Auchtertool.”
But, asking, was told there was none else beside,
Except an old weaver, who now kept a school,
And these were the whole that were in Auchtertool.
He oped, but as soon as I dared to implore,
He shut it like thunder, and uttered a howl
That rung through each corner of old Auchtertool.
Till I came to a ruined old house by the road,
Here the night I will spend, and, inspired by the owl,
My wrath I ’ll vent forth upon old Auchtertool.