THE TWA DOWS Rebekah Carmichael (later Hay) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T104666 Carmichael, Miss (Rebekah) (fl. 1790-1806). Poems. Edinburgh Peter Hill 1790 pp. 4-6. 92p.

This e-text is part of the Works section of the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

XML created for the Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive (ECPA).

Typography, spelling, capitalization, and punctuation have been cautiously modernized. The source of the text is given and all significant editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. This text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.

Library of Congress Name Authority File (LCNAF) text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center; text-align: right; text-align: left; display: inline font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;
THE TWA DOWS There were twa dows , upon a day , Made wise by want , fatigu'd wi' play , Sat in a dooket ; The grund was cover'd o'er wi' snaw , Nae grains o' rye or wheat they saw As out they looket . O brither pigeon ! says the tane , I envy a' the sons o' men , They are sae canty , The cozy room , wi' carpet laid , The press nae toom , the bed weel made , An' naething scanty . Ye silly thing , the ither cries , Ye're graining temper I despise , As weel as pity ; What would the King o' Britain gee To be as weel as you or me , A' London city ? For a' the waes that he has felt , The half o' them has no been telt , They've weel been hided ; When Spring returns , this little throat Shall bill in many a plaintive note How he's been guided . But yet he has a trusty friend , Wha's steady mind will never bend , Frae strictest duty ; An' heaven knows he has a son , Wha to the very de'il would run For female beauty . But , canny lad , we a' may bless him , For you and I would surely miss him , He's been sae good ; He's sent as muckle siller here , Might had us picking half a year , The best o' food . Then envy not the rich an' great You'r better in your present state , Though but a dow ; For they hae griefs ye dinna ken , An' aft these noble creatures men Do envy you .