953 14544,1 P UC-NRLF 1SS 457 H U POEMS, B(B1KKKNQ BY DAVID ANDERSON, AUTHOR OF THE SCOTTISH VILLAGE; SIR WILLIAM A TRAGT.DY, &C. fit*. ABERDEEN: IMUNTKD AT THU STAR OFFICE. KO TKlfi A AM> MH.O II V W. KOBKBTrtONs ISOOKf* I'l. l.r :t , THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBES TO SIR CHARLES FORBES, M.P BY HIS MOST OBEDIENT ANI> MOST HUMBLE SERVANT. THE AUTHOR. PREFACE. SINCE my last publication of Scots Poems in 1812 (actu- ated by the spirit of patriotism), I have paid my addresses to Melpomone, in purpose to dramatize some of the most heroic actions and untimely ends of the most illustrious kings and captains of antiquity of my native land, and other striking events recorded in Scottish story, worthy t)f the tragic muse ; therefore I gave the martial achieve' ments of Sir William Wallace, as a first essay of this ar- duous undertaking, to the public some years ago, which proved a complete failure, owing (according to the partial opinion of my friends) to its enormous length, and number of scenes and characters, which rendered it unfit for theatrical representation. ******* Notwithstanding my mortification at the failure of my first attempt, 1 " strung the lyre again," and in my leisure Jfours composed King Robert Bruce, or the battle of Bau- nockburn, and another historical five act play (pursuant to my plan), and pecuniary circumstances (a fate peculiar to poets) imperiously urged me to publish one of them, so I resolved upon Bruce ; but many of my friends, and among those several literary gentlemen, to whom I communicated my intentions, who had previously perus- ed some of the following pieces, advised me to publish a colkctioa of my Scots poems rather, assuring me thai would prove a far more profitable speculation than a play, and insinuated they would please ; and few, they observed, would care for a play, unless it were acted fM-hr in Edinburgh or London with edat ; and even some of our modern Macemises, the booksellers, a class of men not very apt to flatter authors, were of the same opinion. I was staggered at their suggestions, and astonished how a few hasty home-spun effusions, written as relaxa- tions from severer studies, as occasion called, should be better received in this enlightened age by Scotsmen, than the noblest of our national subjects intended to meet the public eye. After long hesitation, and sounding those on the sub- ject whom 1 was sure would support me, I found them almost universally of one mind in favour of my poems, so I reluctantly yielded to their wishes. If their recep- tion by the public accord not with the anticipation of my friends, what I have already here advanced in their de- fence I hope will extenuate my intrusion. I conclude with returning my sincere thanks to my Subscribers, in enabling me, this sixth time, to appear in print before the public to meet its award, an encour- agement, 1 am proud to say, unprecedented, bestowed on any illiterate pretender to the poetical character like me in this part of the empire. CONTENTS, TM Twa Burghs, a Poem, 1 The Battle of the Blasts, an Allegorical Heroic Poem, 11 Holy John's Prayer, 19 The L d's Answer to Holy John, 23 Epistle to Arth re W tt, Excise Officer, on his seiz- ing Illicit Stills and Smuggled Malt on Sunday, .... 25 Epistle to A. W -bsU.7, Esq. Advocate, 27 Ode to Anthony, Earl of Kintore, on his Home Fair, 31 Ode to Mrs Major Forbes of Inveranan, on her leav- ing Thainston, .33 Elegy on the Death of Lady Kintore 35 Elegy on the Death of A, R., M.D. who died in the West Indies, October 1818, ?7 Sawney Fraser, a Tale, , 40 Ode on the Death of Lord Byron, , 52 Donald and Red Beard, a Tal- 57 Ode on the Auld Year, ... , 64 Epistle to W. M. on Drunkenness,. ,.,. 67 A Letter of Thanks to T. B. who gave the Author a New Bellows, , 77 Stanzas on a Drunken Tinkler 79 Eulogy on the late Reverend Doctor Keith, 91 Stanzas on the Death of J. P. Writing-Master in A berdeen , 83 Address of Congratulation to his Majesty, King fJeorge IV. on the Royal Visit to Scotland, August 1822, 85 Address of Congratulation to James Earl of Fife, on tjie Successful Issuo of hfc late Process, ..,, 9& Yin. Epistle to a Dun, who threatened the Author with Imprisonment, 90 The Farmer's Sunday, a Poem, 94 The Five Carlins, an Election Ballad, 107 Humble Address to Lord Cochrane, &c Ill SONGS. When Edward the despot did Baliol dethrone, 115 When first our forefathers arrived in this isle, ..; 116 At summer eve aften, I wander alone, 118 What beauties do adorn my dear, 119 ^THE TWA BRUGHS: A POEM. 'TWAS in that season o' the aged year, When wither'd are the hills, an' feedles bare; An' brown the forests, an' ilk grassy lea Is peicket to the earth an' growin' grey; An' birds o' passage our cauld clime ha'e flown; An* the guid.man o' ilka great farm town Gi'es fetes, because the crap's i'the yard an' theekit, And in the stibble rigg the plough is streekit; Wi* hound and horn, abroad the hunter hies, An' Phoebus feebly sheds his slanting rays, An' aft carreering colour'd clouds eclipse His orb, and leaves bestrew the yird in heaps, An' flee like flags when weaving braed they fa' The heralds o' a hurricane o snaw; An 1 bleak an' hollow win's blaw loud an* chill, A 2 A.n' aften brings a skirl o' sky ting hail, IVhftk 'dees >' suily savage winter smell; * ^ " > ' t O _ * *c-. v An' here an' there at night a moor burn blazes Like the full moon when in the east she rises, In marshes an' in mosses meteors flare, A' stream incessant thro' the somb'rous air, Ae night a bardie about witching time, Frae Ardies nae langsyne was saunterin' hame, An' wi' the carle's Glenlivet fine in tune, An' till himsel' an auld Scots sang did croon; An* while the solemn scene around he viewed, It threw him in ajcontemplative mood, An' slack'd his pace he stoppit at a stile Awee aboon the auld kirk o' Kinkell. Fair Cynthia half extinguished shone serene Amidst her sparkling planetery train, That did bespangle all the blue expanse ; An* Don an' Ury's gentle streams did glance Like mirrors 'neath her showVmg silv'ry beams ; An' a' was silent save the owlet' s screams, An* dogs that bay'd the moon like critic curs, That bark at some bright bard in fame that tours?* While he with rapture earth an' sky beheld, An aerial being's voice his ears assail'd, That near i'th' air anent him he descry'd, An 1 o'er the Brugh o' Inrury does preside; An' thus its neebour to abusing fell, That in its hearing hovered o'er the dale Whare Don does glide, an* has dominion o'er The auld bit rotten Borough o' Kintore. INRURY. The deil confoun' ye for a doitit fool!, Will you for ever like a stane.blin' mole Howk i' the earth, an' never heed the times, When politicians now are framin' schemes Tolib'rate us, an* likewise mak' us thrive, An' cock our bonnets wi 1 the best belive ; An' rise in population and in trade, And spruce appear, an' look like town's indeed, An' no like country clacbau* as we do, A shame unto the name we bear, I vow. For noble Hamilton an' Maister Hume In our behalf hae forward nobly come, An in St Stephen's Ha' these patriot chaps Shak' bauldly i' the Tories' teeth their craps ; An' Pady Castlereagh wi' pith they bang, An' gar him cower wi' a' his venal gang O' pensioners an' placemen that surroun' him, An' echoes what he says aye fye upon 'era. An* ilka borough town save you alone Within the realm o' ancient Caledon, Their hocus-pocus magistrates exposes, An' publicly devulges their abuses, Whilk these vile self-elected juntos have Been guilty o', at what their burghers grieve, An' for redress petition Parliament ; An' mind ye see the lave are no ahint, An' legal steps an' manly means are takin , To get their rulers o' their ain electin'. 4 An' hinder them frae wastin' o' their gear, Whilk they hae done I wat this mony year Without controul, on dinners an* on drink, An* brought their boroughs to bankruptcy's brink So it is time to send these drones adrift, An* put in honest sober men wha'il study thrift. KINTORE. In sooth I'll wait a while until I see How ye succeed before I seek to jee; An' gin ye get what ye are ettlin' at, I'll get the same in course there's little doubt. But faith I fear that you or ony brugh In Scotland will succeed, for a' the sough That ye are haudin', for ye brawly ken The borough system's part o' the machine O' government itsel'. However gross An' glarin' things appear, it is nae use To bark about reforming them, unless First a reform in Parliament tak' place. Our peerage has the boroughs at command, And do ye think that they will condescend Either for equity or justice's sake, So great a sacrifice ye gowk to make. When half their influence in the Commons' House, An' eke the power to serve their friends they'd loose* Fox, Sheridan, an' Burke for mony a* year Our system to reform did struggle sair, But failed ye ken, although they were the best Of orators that e'er St Stephen's qorum grac'd; Sae it is daftness to kick up a dust About the gross abuses that exist In our burgh system, whan they winna men', We only gie oursels unnecessary pain. INRURY. In faith ye reason realy like an ass : Look at the success lately o* Monross, Wha wi* a patriotic spirit bold, Fired by her wrangs first steppit forth and told The grievances she bore to parliament, Wha readily gave ear to her complaint, An* soon amended them, so will it ours, As they beyond comparison are worse Than hers, whilk sure will make the senate stare, Whan they're a' redd up and stated there ; An* Hume, that champion o* the Whigs, will do't, When his Herculean shouther he's set to it ; Wi' Cocker and the Ready Reckoner armed, Corruption awfully at him 's alarmed, Wha's done mair good already by his figures In shawm' what gear is gaen to gentle beggars, Whilk unto us were hidden in the dark, Than ever Sheridan, or Fox, or Burke, Wi' a* their figurative fine spun speeches, Achiev'd when they harangued against the states' horse leeches. KINTORE. Indeed Monross hath done us meikle harm, A 2 An' dashed the door i' our face now o' reform, Wha was nae sooner frae her shackles freed Than Hume, the Tories' fellest scourge and dread, To be her representative elected, An Mitchell wi' contempt an' scorn rejected, That Torie tool wham Castlereagh did use His art an' influence wi' her to choose ; Ah' a' the evils under whilk ye groan, Wha's echoes do assail the very throne, And rend St Stephen's wa's, ye had the wyte, And twined the cords yoursel' wi' whilk your tiet. Ye sent to Banff an brought her bailies down, And for twa puir Ensignsies sell't your town, And now you're raisin a hubbub about Gettin' these carles wi' foul disgrace turned out ; An' yet fora' you're ire at them, 1 kenna What injury o' ony kind they've done you. For they may pray and fear nae evil neither ; "The deeril tak' them that hae maist o' ither/ An what you're ettllin' at altho' ye had, A pole election sure wad put ye mad, For 'tis proverbial that the fouk o' Inrury Are aye engaged in some infernal hurry, An' ane anither aye like cankert curs they worry. INRURY. An* the guid quiet creatures o' Kintore, A bye-word for puir simple bodies are; An' that by nature they're half dead an' alive, An' ignorant's the animals they drive. An* clanish as the curious fisher fouk, An* on a new income as stinkin' look As gentry do on beggar wives an' brats Wi' bulziements wha do besiege their gates ; An 1 haud a!oof frae them for tvva three year, An' animosity towards them bear, As bigot papist hae at protestants, Or those sour self imaginary saunts, Seceders ca't, at those o th' establish'd kirk, Or cattle at an unco cow, a steer, or stirk. An't 'tis a sayin' in the country yet. That when your magistracy a' were met In council* and it happened anes a year At th' election, an' your provost was a peer, In's presence they stock still like statues sat When he a proposition to them put, The creatures a' exclaim'd wi ae accord, ''What ever is your will is ours my lord. An* idiots did evince themselves in auld, Whan for a barrel o' goud they greed ly sauld The rights o' a' the duties upon wine Imported frae Bourdeaux to Aberdeen To the siid town, an sadly were they grieved When a wee barrel boxie they received About the bigness o' a bairn's yule toy, And were rewarded right for sic a ploy; And even a wig an* weather cock they say Your royal charter an records did buy; And now my lord without even askin' leave Compels his tenants wi' the plough to rive 8 Farms o* your freedom in whilk o'm are rented, And eke extensive forests on it planted, And yet ye calmly seem to rest contented. As for the fouk o' Banff to use th' auld saw, " Ye might hae let that flee stick to the wa'," As well as me ye welcom'd them fu* kin', And ranted wi* them and scufPd aff their wine, And wad hae done as I did hadna death Ere th' election stepit in and stap't the breath O' twa or three o' the Banff partizans, Whilk frustrated your political plans, And then my lord sprang in and hank'd you feet and han's. KINTORE. And what is your fouk's lear ? I'd like to ken, For gin they hae mair wit and lear than mine) It's only a smatterin' o' pettifoggin, A craft indeed ye hae nae cause to brag on, A science taught by satan to deceive, Whilk they're aye studyin*, because they lire In eternal enmity wi' ane anither ; The very turnin* o' a strae or feather Sets them to loggerheads, and syne they flee Unto the law, and haggle wi't titt they Are wearied or their peny siller's done, And end in general where they began. But mine I wot wi* ither seldom wrangle, Nor are they to incomes I own new fangle, Until acquainted wi* their character, Whilk shows I ween they wise and wary are, But let some limmer or Jand-louper loun Wi' braw claise on tak' lodgings i> your town, Ilk uppish upstart in it's sure to hae Them at their hallans to dinner and tea, And gang to them and gi'e them guids on trust, And lend them trifles o' siller at the last They aften hae a moonlight flittin' ta'en, And thus the bitch to clip your bits o' knabrygi'en, Which sair'd them as they shou'd been. In a word, It's just a nest for ilka unclean bird, For bankrupts, beggars, vagabonds, and thieves, Wi' open arms it harbours and receives, And kindlier these cattle do caress, Than those wha hae been born an' bred i'the place, And lived reputable in'ta' their days. As for th' encroachments in my freedom made, I ha'e a-bound'ry left baith wide and braid, Where I do fouth o' feul in it fin', And flocks can keep on't gin I had a mia' ; But yours is sae curtail'd wi' selling feus You'll not get stanes upon't to big a house, Nor divots either to hap barn or byre, And hardly a shurral even to rest a fire ; And yet you're o'er the lugs in debt for't a', And nought in lieu o' it ha'e ye to shaw. To travellers passin' thro' ye 'tis a joke To see your braw town house without a clock? And at your market cross huge standiu' pools, 10 And ditches deep, and stinkin' middin holes, Disgraceful and disgustin' to be seen, And dangerous in dark winter nights I ween. And I declare too several o' your bailies Some years sinsyne were queer and fashious fellows, And whan they wanted aye to raise the wind Fouk hurlin' on their carts they took and fined, An' frae the council ha' to the changehouse They straught did hie and had a hearty bouse, And forged ale sellers licences for drink, For which their heads should been put i'the mink ; And burghers made o' fouk for twa three gills And pounds o' apples these were worthy chiels Wha had o' your brugh lang the rulin' power, And some o' these carles are amang the core And loadest in their censures that do storm And roar and rave about a radical reform. Now chanticleer did clap his wings and craw, Whilk gart the angry sp'rits baud their ill jaw ; An' in an instant through th' unclouded air In different directions disappear. An' syne the bard did tak' the road an' travel Wi' hasty steps hame to his ain auld reeky hovel. THE BATTLE OF THE BEASTS! AN ALLEGORICAL HEROIC POEM. IN th' orient, upon a time, By envy roused an' hate, The wild beasts of that torrid clime, Beleagured raging met. To beard the lion in his den, An' to destruction down The monster bring, because I ween He terrible was grown. The tyger was the first, they say, Wha did his fae appear, Wi* haggard looks, he forth did fly> An' made the lion glare. The Mandral, an' great Gibbon grim, Likeways the Lynx who were, Fired at the tiger's furious flame, His fortune flew to share. 12 A nab's twa dogs, that roam'd unchained, Th' insurection did descry, Upon their master lap, an' fawn'd For leave to join the fray. The nabob, with emotion keen, Did at a glance perceive Their drift, the coil to gang an' join He gladly ga'e them leave. An' aid th* insurgent herd inclined, The lion to o'erthrovr ; For that he mony day had pined These servile creatures knew. They shook their lugs, and bark'd for joy, An' cock'd their tails, an' syne As hard as ever they cou'd hie Set affunto the den. The ta'en a lang lug'd beagle was, Of the famed Spartan kind, Crook-kneed, bell moued, as Shakspeare says,- An' for the chase well train'd ; The tother was a cunning tyke, An' o> the tarrier race; Was fit t* assail a bumbee byke, Cats, moudie-worts, or mice. 13 The panther, leopard, an' the ownce, Did after them career, To aid them, while their eyes did glance, Indignant felon ire. The manticore, wi' mony teeth, Ran curlin's scorpion tail ; An* the huge hypopatamus, with The scaly crocodile. The big buffalo, an' wild boar, Did urge their route wi' rage, The depredator to devour, Their vengeance to assuage. The horn'd rhinoceros eke hied Amongst them, to confront The shaggy king hard was his hide, As iron or adamant. The untameable hyena too, Wha'd lang the lion hated, Up gallop'd, gruntin' like a sow, To get his malice sated. Surly as Cerberus, that giiards Th' ad'mant gates o' hell, As aul' historians an' bards In fabled story tell. B 14 A great sized bull-dog, an' a bold, Came gasping them among ; In reden'd ire his eye-balls rolled, An' foam'd an* loll'd his tongue. The serpent too, that subtile beast, On's belly to the broil Crawl'd, hissing with erected crest, An' swing'd his forket tail. An' forward flew, wi' venom chock'd, A vicious tiger-cat : Each muscle in his face contrac'd, An' rais'd its birse an* spat. An* reynard, wha's well kent for wyles, Enter'd the hostile list; An' th' elephant too, wha excels In wisdom ilka beast ; And the cameleon, who can Change colours when he chooses, Is station'd in the central van, An' keen their cause espouses. To aid the leagured host, like wind The nimble grey -hound ran ; Docile as ony o' his kind, Ne'er kent to snarl or fawn. 15 Neist came a mastive, large an' stout, An' daringly did frown, Wi* the fierce beast to ha'e a bout, An* help to hunt him down. Apes, monkies, an* baboons in scores Did frisk about the den ; Some walk'd erect some on all-fours, They chatter* d an' did grin. The lion eyed wi' indignant ire The allied hostile train, An* lash'd his sides, an's een flash'd fire, An* shook his shaggy mane. The terrifying tremendous roars The royal animal rais't, Muster'd a formidable force, His highness to assist. The jackal an* the fumort fell, First ran an* round him rally 'd ; The growling bear, wha trees can speel, Out to the onset sallied. A hungry wolf, wi' aspect grim, An* greedy as the grave, Ferocious did forward feem The battle bold to brave ; 16 An' eke twa strong ourang-outangs Stalk'd wi' gigantic strides, Arm'd wi' enormous oaken rungs, To tan the insurgents' hides. Th' urus, along wi' this brave band Of royalists, sought the field, An 1 in his route he spurn 1 d the ground In rage, an' roar'd and squill'd. Reluctant cam' the porcupine, Arm'd wi' his quills erect, Sharp as a sheaf o' arrows keen, An' shoots them when provok'd. Twa great jokoos grew terrify d At leaguing 'gainst the lion, Desert' d frae the rebels' side, An' did the royalists join. The lion's fate a Nabob touch* d, (An emblem true o' Timon Th' Athenian) some dogs dis patch* d To aid him, wha ran feemin'. The first a furious blood-hound was, As ony o' his kind ; Wi' nose acute, an' for the chase Was whan a whalpie t< ain'd ; 17 The tother was a sleekit tyke, Docile and finely bred ; For 's services a great respect His master for him paid : An' monie a monkey aiv baboon Upon the lion's side, In that affray, as well as on Th' insurgent's, were array 'd. Like the barb'rous exhibitions that Rome witnessed in yore, A semblance o' those scenes, I wot, The field now truly bore. With unsheath'd claws, an' open jaws, Wi' growling an* wi' roaring, These savage crews o' bestial foes Each other fell devouring. The woods an' rocks, afar around, Resounded wi' their noise; An 1 rutted was the gory ground, An* rent th azure skies. Th' Indian hordes, th' uproar who heard, Flew to their fires in fright ; The beasts that brouzed the field were fear'd, An' fled wi 1 main an' might ; 18 An' hungry vultures hover* d o'er The sanguinary scene, In clouds, like craws in quest o' gore, An' Phoebus face did screen. The rumour o 1 this war assail' d Th' ears o' the great Mogul, So he to arms, an 1 horse soon call'd His hunting forces all ; An' sent them to th' ensanguined field, Which soon they did surround, Whereby both parties were compelPd In peace to quit the ground. Sore bitten, an' half out o' breath, They surly sneak'd away: To lakes an' brooks, their lowing drowth, They limped to allay. HOLY JOHN'S PRAYER. O L d wha inhabiteth ta O hear thy servant's earnest call; Thou ever kind an' merciful To them that seek thee, But hate them wi' thy heart an j soul That don't respect thee. But, Ld, to me thou'st been a kind, Munificent, ne'er failing friend, For thy blest bounties that are rain'd On mine an* me : I'm bound adoringly to bend My knee to thee. Thou st gi'en me monie a dainty bit As mickle's I cou'd pouch or eat O' a' kin kin' loaf, cakes, an' freet, Beef, fish, an' foul; An' L d I've aften tint my feet By thy strong bowl. After thy feasts I've been sae fu', As rick's a tyke, an' like to spue; An' wearied as a bursn sow IVelaid me down; An* like a clever bowden'd cow Pech't o' the groun'. 20 An', L d, thro' thy most gracious grace, I've been the puch'lest in this place, For corn, an' kine, an' brindal brass, I'se ha'e fared ; That I, good L d, appear nae less Than a cock laird. But, 'tis far yont my thought or speech The foot-stool o' thy worth to reach, But L d, O I- d, thee I beseech, In fervent prayer, Mine an' thine enemies to bleech Wi' ruthless ire. So stretch forth thy strong arm o' pow'r, Against the bodies o' ; Wi' heavy rents, L d press them sore, Or them exile, Out o' thy int'rest ever more For dool to tell. Wi' the B bailies they're conniven% An' ilka ook wi> them are driven, In carriages an fetes receivin' Frae that auld sly Insinuating crew, wha're strivin' Their brugh to buy. That ye will reap nae benefit, In aidin' ony till a seat, Henceforth amang the men o> state, An* aye or no, To say's the premier thinks fit To bid them do; An' by their suffrage to gain A pension post or place, or then An' office to a needy frien' Aneath the crown ; L d bauk them i' their black design, An' them confoun'. An! me, for canker they deride, Inquisitivity and pride ; An' likewise 'cause I dinna bide At hame a day My flock to tent, nor guard nor guide Frae ga'n astray ; An' they've establish d Sunday schools, Taught by wild fanatics aa 1 fools, Wha ha'e flung by their shuttles an' awls, L d, an 5 turn'd preachers ; An' arrogant, unread, earth moles, Aid them as teachers. These ign'rant itin'rants they extol, To hear them buff an' nonsense bawl Extempore, an' drone an' drawl For hours on en', Whilk does my very heart an' soul Fill wi' chagrin. An' I don't preach, but read they say, Dull lectures on morality ; An' that I'd need a locker strae My part to keep ; An* gar them hing their heads awry, An' yawn an' sleep. 22 They eke insinuate, I ne>er Can alter ae word o> my prayer ; An' hunders ha>e't by heart, as clear As th' A. B, C ; An when I say't, they gowp an' stare About them aye. An pour doun thy indignant fury On the d d vermine o' , Wha lang thro* devilish spite did war ye Wi' politics ; O that they were driven in a hurry Straught to aul' nick's. A poor proud pack I true they be, An* 'mang themsel's can never gree ; An' L d, they've turn'd their backs on thee. An' sel t their borough. Eternally, L-d, may they dree For't dool an' sorrow ; But, L d, may I enjoy still Thy favour, an' be welcome till Thy well-stored board my wame to fill, An' swig thy wine, An' I to praise thee ever will, Amen ! amen ! THE L D'S ANSWER TO HOLY JOHN. MY trusty servan', holy John, The wale o* saints that e'er put on Surplice, black coat, or sable gown, I've lent mine ear Unto thy orisons, an' own On thee grave sire O' reverend an' sage divines, My smoaking savoury sirloins, Delicious fruits, an' flav'rin wines, Were well bestow'd A't you cou'd carry i' your brains Or belly baud. For aye in Sunday afternoons, In spite o' snaw, hail, rain, or wins, As soon as e'er thy sermon en's Thou saddles Dobin ; An' in a blink thou'rt at my inns, Breathless an' fobbin : Regardless whirs to christen or marry, Or like to die, ye never tarry, Till that day uke we baud us merry At playin* carts, An* guzlin' port, champaign, an' sherry, To cheer our hearts ; 24 An' as I live, I do protest, I will atten' to thy request, An* wi* authority invest My servan* Chairly, To execute my vengeance just, An' that right early- Upon our enemies every one, He will rack rents frae them deman', An' grind their rustic noses down To raise their rent ; Or, in his ire, out o* my Ian* He will them hunt. An' as I live, I likewise swear, My bounties thou shalt ever share, Till worms on thy fat carcase fare When i' the groun* ; Or till beyond the lunar sphere My spirit's flown. EPISTLE TO A. W TT, EXCISE OFFICER, ON HIS SEIZING ILLICIT STILLS AND SMUGGLED MAUT ON SUNDAY. O ye hard-hearted heathen W tt, What sorrow wou'd ye now be at, RanguV for whisky stills an' maut O' the L d's day ; An' garin auP wives rin about An' rave an* cry ; While o'er their nose the pearls run pinkin ; Altho' wi' Brown, ye're rantin' drinkin', An' ither haverels, while ye're rinkin Throughout your roun', Satan in's sleeve is at you winkin' To see you man ; An', as attentive as a cat, Markin' the motions o' a rat, Th' auld thief does eye you in an' out, An* closely watch ye ; An' thinks some day there's little doubt But he will catch ye. C 26 Aiv sae he will, I will be boun% Gin ye alake baud headlong on Your mad career, whilk ye ha'e run This monie year ; Syne ye'll repent your riggs an' fun Wi' cronies dear, O'er tankards fu' and tum'lers foamin', When like a samon ye'll be soomin' Amaug blue brimstone an' bitumen, Burnin' for aye; Whare the poor worm in torment screamin' Will never die ; An' roun* ye deils will dance and howl, Like Indians wild, to see you thole The agonies o' yon dread hole- The d d among ; An yow'l in vain for water to cool Your burning tongue. So A re man, tak' my advice, An* gi'e up drinkin' to excess, The inlet unto ilka vice, An' Sabbath brakin* ; An* G d's blest name in vain likewise In your mou' takin', For scarce ane gangs unto the gallows, But in their diyng speeches tell us, That it was huntin' aye the ale-house, An' Sabbath brakin' ; An 1 takin* up wi' worthless fellows, Whilk was their wrackin'. m EPISTLE TO A. W. ESQ. ADVOCATE. AN answer, Sir, to your's I send, Sae, gin ye please, ye may command The bailiffs my effects to poind, An* cry my roup ; Or my poor person apprehend, An clap me up In limbo; but, by a' aboon, By that you'll never get your own, For I am owe, Sir, mony a pound To ither fouk ; An' shou'd you do't, they'd raise a soun% An' grimly yoke, Wi' teeth an* nails, ye needna doubt, Wi' you to get bawbee about ; An' devil tak me giff a groat, Sir, o' the shillin', Tho' I were roupet, cou'd be got, As things are sellin'. A' th' effects within my house 'S an aul' sea trunk an' ship camboose, A kist for ony orro use, Without a lock ; An 1 ane o* the bans that's nae great loss O* it is broke ; A tin ink-stan', an' writin' table, Wi' ink an' soot a' glaried sable ; An* some auF buiks, but ha'e nae bible, An' that's a shame ; An* ae fir chair, that's worn sae feeble, Wi' use an* time, When I meeve on't ye'd hear it creakin 7 ; A rusty flaggon, aften leakin', A stoupit caff-bed, an' the teikin* Is nearly dane ; Ae pair o' plaids, nae lies I'm makin , Are only mine ; Twa bolsters, that wou'd need a sweel, A bowie that bauds a peck o' meal, A flask that hauds twa gills o oil, A tillie pan O white iron, whilk I made mysel, An' a horn spoon ; A lampie tee, that lats rne see To read at night, an' scribble awee ; Nae kind o' crock'rie ware I ha'e ; For in a word Sick lux'ries, Sir, as suckar an' tea I can't afford. My bellows leathers a' are torn, The broads are only fit to burn ; My stakes an* studdies for aul' iron Wou'd only gang. So I assure ye ye'd be a bairn, If you wou'd fling 29 Out mair good sillar seekin' ill ; Nor need I mak* a phrase an* tell How times are bad, how trade is dull In town an' country, Whilk gar poor bodies sadly feel, An* e'en the gentry ; For since the broolzie o' Waterloo, An' Bony was banish'd hyne awa, The nation's gotten an' unco fa% An* sair mischiev'd, That nae state doctor kens ava How till releiv't. Lords Liverpool an' Castlereagh Bid us wi' patience wait awee, Its proper channel we will see Trade soon will find ; Ere that come round, we'll starve or die, I apprehend. O saw ye, sir, the man o' rhyme, Just like a Cyclops, black an' grim, Sittin in's smiddie, passings time Writin' a play, In hopes that cash in's pouch will chime For it some day, Ye wou'dna fash your thumb, I ken, Letters an' summonses to sen', An' captie-hornins unto ane Like me, wha has Nae credit, frien's, nor sort o' coin, An' scarcely clacs c 2 30 To hap his hurdles, like the lave O' his poor wierdless clan, wha have Nae ither earthly aim, but rave Awa in rhyme, In hopes, Sir, that their names will live In future fame. Had I enew o' stills to mak', Your siller ye shou'd shortly brook ; Cause bear's so ill, fouk winna yoke The whisky pot. Ha'e patience, an* I'll sen' neist uke A one poun' note ; The ither three I'll try an' sen', Ere th* ensuin' summer en'. If to these terms ye don't incline To listen, ye May do's ye'r ain deil bids ye, syne Ye winna dee I' the pet. Nae lenity I seek Frae you,'s I ha'na nane V expect, Nae mair indeed than frae aul' nick, I'm well aware, Therefore on me your fury wreck Wi' felon ire. Lord help the unlucky wierdless wretches That fa* into the lawyers' clutches, Wha suck our heart.blood like horse.leeches, An 5 wou'd to hell Aff han' for hire at once dispatch us, Besides a jail. Inverury, April 13, 1817. ODE TO ANTHONY, EARL OF KINTORE, ON HIS HOME FAIR. HAIL to the noble young Kintore, Wha's presence maks our joys run o'er ; The fields, wi' mony a blooming flow'r An* plant are crown'd, An' th' aereal choir harmonious pour Music around. An* boding plenty gladdens man, But O the pride o' bonny June Is heightened on the the banks o' Don An' Ury side, While thou'st brought hame to deck the lan>, A lovely bride. A lady in fashions circle named, For shape an' air an* beauty famed, By a' wha ken her 'tis proclaimed, Her mind does glow With every virtue, an' esteenvd By high an' low. 32 May she be Countess o> Kintore Threescore o* years by rich an' poor Belov'd, an' ha'e full half a* score O' girls an' boys, Guid, stout an* fair, will yield I'm sure Domestic joys. As calm an' pleasant to the sea Yon kindred streams glide on their way, May you an* your Lady's lives, I pray, Unruffl'd pass In mutual harmony syne flee To enless bliss. ODE TO MRS MAJOR FORBES OF INVERERNAN, ON HER LEAVING THAINSTON. MADAM, the muse in measured style, While sorrow does my bosom swell, Now bids your Ladyship farewell, Alas! when thou Frae Thainston's bony braes awile Art ga'n awe. To your ain seat hyne at Strathdon, Thy absence, when thou'rt thither gone, Aft with a heartfelt heavy groan I will deplore, As doeth the wretch his lang lost sun Frae Greenland's shore. For the warm kindness you did show To me my gratitude shall glow, Till my heart blood forget to flow, An' I am laid Upon the lap of earth full low Amang the dead. Thou pow'r divine who makest e'er Poor mortals thy peculiar care, Vouchsafe now to incline thine ear, To me while I Send up my orisons sincere To thee on high, That may young Peggy happy be, Her husbari' and her bairnies three, As mony mair yet may she ha'e, An* blooming thrive In lieu o' the loss o' those wha lie In the caul' grave. Her years do num'er sax an* twenty, May she survive till she be ninety, Blest wi' her husban', health an' plenty, An* reverenced be By bairns bairnies fair an' dainty Ere death she see. An' when he comes, O may she be Wafted on Angels' wings away, Aloft where glowing gems inlay The azure zone Of heaven, where Saints in songs o J joy Circle thy throne. ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF LADY KINTORE. AH ! mourn my muse, while death has stung Kintore's dear Lady, fair an* young, An* virtuous ; an' sorrow 's sprung Forth like a pard, An 1 to the widow'd bosom clung O' her fond Lord. Alas ! affliction's pow'rs do wring My heart, the unseen ills to sing, That posteth on time's dexterous wing, An* daily do On countless hapless thousands bring Trouble an' wo. For scarcely earth in'ts orbit round Has twice revolv'd, to heal love's wound, Since in the Hymeneal band They twa were tied, An 1 a lang life o' joy profound They hop'd to lead. 36 Their merry homefair I remind, When their blythe tenantry convened On Ury's banks, in jubilee join' d To welcome them. With signs o' joy of every kind That worth can claim. An' I enraptured strung the lyre, To hail the honoured happy pair, An* breath'd my benisons sincere, But cruel fate Made them, like vapours, into air Evanish quite. A' ye, wha did rejoice that day, An' rent the air wi' shouts o' joy, While July in her green mantle gay, An' gow'ny gems, Bespangled shone, an' birds did vie Wi' your acclaims, Now wail the loss o' her wi' me, That rends your master's heart wi' wae ; An' moiiy her short worth will hae Cause to lament, Wha's heart an' hand were open aye To those in want. ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A R , M. D. WHO DIED IN THE WEST INDIES, OCTOBER 1818. ALAS ! what news is this I hear? Death, with his dart, \vha nane does spare, Has struck a good auP comrade dear In youthful prime, Residing in a fatal, far, An' foreign clime. In life's gay happy morning, we At school were class-mates, an' at play Were seldom separate, an' aye Harmonious greed, An' friendship's bands, as years roll'd by, Were stronger tied. An' when he to the Indies hied, To his suggestions I complied, My country I an' kindred bade A warm adieu, T* accompany him, an' took the tide, Tho' boist'rous blew P 38 The stormy winds. When I arriv'd In great Augusta, he receiv'd Me wi' true kindness, an' behav'd Like ony brither To me, the little time we liv'd There baith thegither. Confinement close within the same, Hard toil, an' the infernal feem O' pois'nous metals, which I blame, On me brought on A host, that maist reduc'd my frame To skin an' bone. An* quarrels, which I own with shame, Did lay me cripple on a lim' ; An- waur than a% want, gaunt an' grim, Did stare me full ; That e'er I left my native hame Woe wrung my soul. Yet I in a' these ills did find His friendship; but baith tide an' wind For sailing serv'd, an I behind Was left forlorn In au afflicted state, stone-blind, My fate to mourn I Bless' d Providence did bring me round, An' back unto my native land I hied ; though poor, yet hale an' sound I live amang Kind social friends, a num'rous band, An' sing my sang. 39 But till my heart shall cease to beat, Him wham I wail I'll ne'er forget ; An* his endowments, I will say't, Transcendent were, Wi* a figure form'd to captivate TV hearts o' the fair. An' free an' affable he was, Ilk feature in his weel-far'd face, Which wore a smile aye did express An Angel mind, That seem'd to grasp in his embrace All human kind. An' a' that kent him 's well as I Confess the same, even with a sigh ; May He who snatch' d his soul away To bliss replete, Comfort his mourning friends, I pray, With hopes to meet Him at the last, where trouble an' care Sorrow, disease, nor death, shall ne'er Alarm the Christian with fear, Nor wish for more Real happiness than what is there Laid up in store. SAWNY ERASER, A TALE. A chapman anes, ca'd Sawny Fraser, As arch a chieF as e'er did measure Aff tape or claith o' ony kin', An' praisin's wares for bein' fine An cheap, an' that they were na his, Nor manufactured at the price That he was seekin' for them ; so He thus the bodies up did blow, An* gart them buy. In brief, he made A hun'er guinies by his trade ; So traf'lin' he resolv'd to drop, An' in some borough town set up, An' mak' a fortune's monie's done, An' ere they diet ha'e bailies been, An' bought estates ; an' why not Sawny? Wha had the knack o' mat in' money, An' eke o' kcepin't in his claws Whan it was made, whilk wisdom shaws; An* that he was baith kute an' slee, Ye by the sequel soon sail see. 41 An' as I said, he'd given up Carryin' the pack, an' ta'en a shop, An' set awa south wi' his winin' Inten'in' to buy goods at Lon'on. As he thro* England on shanks mare Did paddle, t kenna whatna shire Or town; it maksna, the arch wight Was lodgin' in an inn ae night, An' eke twa Cocknies, grocer beaus, Wi f powder'd pates, as white as do'es, An' in the fashion finely drest, Wha ruffles wore at han's an' breast, Rings o' their fingers an' breast preens, Stoned seals, gowd watches, an' gowd chains, Whilk dangling, rattled at their hips, An' sillar mounted riding whips, An' saddle bags, an' hackney horse, An' buckskin breeks, an' boots an' spurs, An* muckle coats; they'd out been takin' In orders, eke an' cash colleckin' Frae country customers wha aw'd them, Their names I kenna what they ca'd them ; But I sail ca' the taen Bohea, The tither Congou that '11 dee. Fu' cosh beside a canty fire, In a snug room, they smoakin' were, O'er christen'd rum, but thinkin' lang By being alone, the bell they rang, An' call'd the landlord Sackbutt came An' thus interrogated him : D 2 42 " Have you to-night in this here house Any more lodgers, sir, than us, To bear us company a while, The tedious evening to beguile, As we are thinking long alone, And getting drowsy? " There's but vone" Said he, " and that's a traveling Scot, Who gemmen's company vili not suit; He's in the kitchen, and who is A cattle drover, I suppoase." " A Scot !" they echoed with a smile, Rubbing their hands, " he'll do d d well ; So, if you please, Sir, send him here, And we will quizz the mountaineer, And make us sport and game of him, And merrily pass away the time/* Sackbutt assented to it,- then He shortly usher'd Sawny in, Wha doff'd his bonnet, scrap'd an' bow'd; The merchants modish manners show'd, An' raise politely frae their chairs, Accustomed well their customers Wi' courtesy o'er their counters to Salute wi' a smile an' servile bow, An' civily Sawny they entreated To step in over an' be seated ; An 1 he obey'd wi' awkward air, An* decket down* his heathery hair, An' eyed them out aneath his brows. Bohea did fill him up a glass,, 43 An' ask'd him socially to taste ; He nodded, an' their health he wist, Remarking at the same time, that O'er rauckle trible they were at. Congou anither fill'd in haste, Insinuating he was chaste. Quoth he <; I think ye'll fill me fu' Afore ye halt" haudin't to's mou'. The grocers fill'd their glasses niest As well as Sawny's, an' they wist His good health, wi' a gentle nod, He thank'd them, while he gravely bow'd. They fill'd again, an' a' the three Fell helter-skelter tilt wi 1 glee ; An' after ae bowl came anither, Till Sawny's head grew light's a feather, An' bauldly crack' d like a pen-gun, An' sang to them, an' ga'e them fun. Tho' Sawny he was slee an* sickar As ony whan sober, but the Hquor Made him a fool, an' tell'd his min' O'er freely, whilk he sou'd na dano, An* answer'd a' the cocknies' queries Without reserve, wi' aspect serious, An* tauld them, wi' exultin' air, He was a chapman mony a year, An* that he'd sav'd a hun'er poun' An' gi'en up ga'n frae town to town ; An 1 eke that he a shop had ta'en, To set up in the clothier line, 44 An' this far on his way was boun', To purchase goods at Lon'on town, Whare he wad get his pick an 1 wale, An 1 a* thing o' the newest style, An* cheaper, too, than second han ; An' they applauded Sawny' s plan In gain' there to choose his stock ; Their glasses fill'd, an' wist him luck, When business he commenc'd ; an* they Did Sawny sound at what hour he I* the mornin' meant to go away. Said he, " a while afore the sky, Gin I be well I mean to start, Because the day is unco short.*' Now joy beam'd in the Cocknies* eyes, As bein' cocksure o* their prize, An 9 did ilk ither's meanin* mark, That they would rob him i' the dark, An' wi' their booty get clear off, An' on the heads o 1 this took snuff, An" fill'd a bumper to the brim, An' in a jiffy toom'd the same. By this time it was wearin' late, They cali'd for something now to eat, An 1 Sawny spierd at them what lay To his share o' the lawia to pay, Whilst han 1 in's pouch did slowly slide. " Nothing at all," the Cocknies cried ; While Sawny, wi 1 a heart right glad To hear't, as if his fingers had 45 Been stung or brodet wi' a prin, Did suddenly draw't out again, An' thanks returned for their braw treat, An f bowin', raise up frae his seat, An' mannerly mintet to withdraw. The Cocknies would not let him go Till he partook wi' them a chat, An' Sawny nae great priggin saght. The eatin 1 over, he retired, Right joyfu' 'cause so well he'd fared For naething, an* the landlord paid His bill o 1 fare, an' to his bed, Up to the garret he was shawn. The merchants likewise paid their lawin, An' sat awee, an' took their smoke, An' leugh at Sawny ahint his back, An' ridiculed his country, too, \Vhilk Englishmen are apt to do. By hellish avarice allured, The twa knaves mutually concurred, By ha'in' sick a glorious chance To act highwaymen's parts for ance, An' rise betimes before the dawn, An' rob him o' his hun'er poun' Wi' candle in hand, the chamber maid Up stairs did show them to (heir bed. Early i' the mornin' Sawny raise, Ere light had streak'd the eastern skies, An' turses himsel', wi' staff in hand, He left the house a' snorin' soun', 46 An* took the road an' traveled on. Alas ! a league he had not gone- An* thro* the dubs his stumps was steerin' Whan up the cocknies came careering Atween twa woods ; a halt they made, An' held their pistols till his head, An' order'd him directly to Surrender his purse, else they would blow His brains out, whilk gart Sawny start, An' till his mou' maist lap his heart; His limbs, for fear, near lost their pith, An' he was nearly out o' breath, An f leanM him o'er his staff, an' shook Like ane just i' the palsy struck"; Then looking up, he ga'e a grain, An* on the robbers cast his een, An* kent them, an' he questioned gin They were in earnest or in fun : <{ Earnest, by G d," they baith exclaim'd, e cause to rue. 69 How aften after a hearty bouse Whan sunk's the city in repose, Past midnight frae the public house The swillin' corps Will sallie an' set to the stews To ha'e a splore. Some there ha'e gotten their pouches picket, Their sillar an' their watches nickit, An' some diseases ha'e contrackit, I winna name, An* shortly ha'e the bucket kicket Wi' burniiv shame, Or objects liv'd; an' some in brawls Hae gotten bleedy an' broken skulls, Or baul'd awa' into black holes ; An' monie ane hath In raisin* and in reddin' squals Met wi' their death. The love o* liquor, man, o'er weel Leads mony to limbo an' compel To loup the country an' exile Themsel's o'er seas, Wha cou'd ha'e bask'd in fortune's smiU At hame at ease. Behint a counter wi' a quill Ahint their lug stuck, an* in style Hae strutted, groun' maun trench, an* fell American trees, Or sable backs o' negro's peel P the Carrabeei, 70 An* Agriculturists to the pot Hae gane ; an' Artizans hae got Their shops shut an' their tools turn'd out To th' highest bidder, An' don'd again the journeyman coat, An* toil'd to anither. An' mony an opulent man I ween, Au ill intent knave to befrien', Ha'e by a single dash o the pen When they were tipsy, To ruin on a sudden been Brought an bankruptcy. An' O! what swarms in oar sphere even, As countless as the stars o* heaven, When reason frae her seat is driven By liquor's fumes, Leave frien's an' families for them grievin* An' native homes, An* to be sogers do tak on, To carry the knapsack an* the gun, An 1 for a shilliir a day to stan' 'Fore bomb an' ball, An' mony a far an' foreign Ian' Traverse an* thole. A kin' o' hardships I can name, Besides to lose an arm or limb, Laid on the yird low, wi* their wame Turn'd to the meen, An' by fell plundering carlins grim, Strip'd to the skin, 71 Wba wi' a moggan an' a staoe Knock out their brains, if ony sign O' animation should remain F the poor wretches, Unshrouded an' uncoffin'd, syne Flung into ditches. Drink has extinguish'd oft the fire Of rising brilliant genius rare, Wha for relief frae trouble an' care Unto it fled, An* prematurely in their last lair Ha'e lowly laid, A baneful remedy the bowl 'S a honey drop in a draught o' gall, As are life's joys, upo' the whole, Tho' to the skies We're buoyant made, as low we fall, Into th' abyss. You'll aften see a drunken jeet Unable amaist to baud his feet, Reelin* frae side to side o' the street, Thro' peels an' gutters, Wi' riven breeks an' thread-bare queyt Hangin' in tatters, An* red as ony aisle his nose, Bedaub'd wi 1 snuff, wi's hat o'er's brows, Sair suddled sark neck, an' napkin loose, An's breast a' bare, An' foul his face, an* like a Jew's Covered wi' hair. 72 An' aye himsel' he'll try to steady, To see'm s' ill shaken up an' duddy, He looks just like a taliie hoodie, The craws to scare, Hi* een like ane's new frae the widdie, Stan' out an* stare. He'll tak the road awee, an' rin, An' on a sudden stop an stan', AD* shak an hiccup, an' eye the groun', Like ane in study, An' heedless there unbutton an* strone O' ony body, An* glower to th' elements, an' grane, An' tak the gate wi' blr again, An* stagger on thro' thick an* thin, An* should he fa, The boys a 1 wha 're in his train Will loud huzza. Some neighbours come an* carry him harac To his ill used an' angry dame, An* noisy weans, wi' hungry wame, Makin' a din, While he will rage r an' rugg, an' faera At his best frien'. An' whao to's hallan he's haul'd in, 'S a tiger in a .toil new tane, He'll struggle to get out again, An' threaten their soul Wi f horrid oaths to hell to sen* Wha'll him controul. 73 Gin's wife's a scauld his hame's a hell, As can his neighbours truly tell ; Aye when he thus does to her reel, She'll rage an' storm, An' in his luggs her lang tongue will Ring like a 'larum. Sic jades, sic jeets, will put red.wud, Wha'll beat them, an' whiles shed the'ir blood, Wba by the neck hae gotten a showd, For't in a rape, An' by glegg gullies their guts ploughed Up like a sheep. If prudent, she will counterfeit Good humour, tho' she's like to greet, An' clap an' coax him to be quiet, Tho' till hersei' Wi' stiffled sorrow, her hard fate, Peer thing J bewail. An' 1 ha'e seen a weirdless wight, Hame frae the alehouse come at night, An' feugh his cuttie, an' light, #%{{ An* slaver an' spit, Wi' his ain shadow aweers to fight, An' blether styte, An' blaw, an> smack, air sook, an' pech, His wife would silent sit an' sigh, To see'm-he'd burn his fingerslfeech, An' stamp an' swear, An' brak his pi pe , his brats abeigh Eye him wi' fear. a 74 what an ill example's this A parent to a family gVes : Nae won'er tho* it mak' them miss The way, I ween, That leads to everlasting bliss ! O heavy sin ! Tho' drunken sots o' men are ill, Yet drunken wives are waur : they'll sell Their very duds o' claes an' meal Out o' the lust, An* vvitina stick to wh re an' steal To sloke their thirst. I've seen them tumblin i' the lair On braid day-light wi* buttocks bare, An' mobs about them, an' their hair Amang their een, Mumliii like helpless weans there, Bumbaz'd an' blin'. Notorious drinkers to their head Ha'e hauden an' rosten themsel's to dead, Or ha'e been found smored i* their bed Most shockin state Or gane stark starin' mad, 'tis said, An' damin' diet ! 1 a 1 the ills thai do accrue Frae the effects o' gettin' fu', Wou'd be a tedious task unto A sage divine ; So I have only given you A brief outline. 75 Expecting this imperfect sketch Will be sufficient man, to teach You to avoid the whirlpool which Does swallow up all Wha unwar'ly come within its reach, Baith body an 9 soul ! I've sworn to gi'e debauch'ry o'er, Tho' I can liquor get galore For baud in' the table in a roar, Recitin' rhymes, An" woo in ilka leisure hour Parnassian dames; Or crack wi' a congenial friend, Wi' wham I'd wish awhile to spend. This rational course ye will commend Me to pursue. Indeed I ha'e begun to mend, And high time too ; For I am in the yellow leaf, As Byron says, an' I in brief Reflect upon it now wi' grief. How ill prepared I am 'gainst coming auld age stiff, Wha's to be fear'd. To us 'tis then a waefu' warle Whan want accompanies the carle, An* hardly ae foot able to haurle Ahin' anither, Till wrinkles mark's, an' our hair marie, Wi' ne'er consider. 76 But still at times I maun allow, My rules abruptly I brak' thro', When sic a social chieF as you I chance to meet, On sic a happy interview Our wizzens maun weet. An' I expect to see you soon, Before anither uke has flown, I do inten' to be in town A day or two, About the publishing o' you New wark.* Adieu. King Robert Bruce, or the Battle of Bannockbnrn, an his- torical play in five acts, which the author intended to have pub- lished instead of this collection . A LETTER OF THANKS TO T., B***D, WHO GAVE THE AUTHOR A NRW BELLOWS. O B**D, thou art the best o' fellows, Wha'st gien the Bard a braw new bellows When he thy debtor was afore ! He'll mind it till his dien' hour. Sic friendship, Sir, is rare to fin* Amang the selfish sons o' men ; For, when a man, by fortune's frown, (God pity him) down life's hill is ga'en, Against him ilk ane's heart do turn, An 1 in his hip they ha'e their horn, An' push him headlong to the foot, Wi' the brutality o' nowt. My bellows, now, though well she blawi, To me's o' little use, alas ! Since licensed stills were set a-goin*, The little trade I had's to ruin ; Save jobbin', I have scarce a jot, An' nae a half enough o' that ; I'll gi'e my aith I canua mak Aboon a half-a-crown a uke. Sic trade, ye ken, will never do, S anither course I maun pursue. G2 78 As poor aul' Norval life sustained By takin' trouts, when he was twin'd O' a's live stock a trade, in short, Anes in a day his only sport S' early attach'd unto the muses, Unto the fam'd hill o' Parnassus, I monie time made an excursion, Just wholly for my ain diversion ; But ill advice at first, an' neist By griphV penury oppresst, I on the public made intrusions Wi' my rude jtivenal effusions ; Therefore my fate in print ance mair I'll try, lat critics scoff an' sneer, An' dub me dunce; them I despise, They're but a swarm o' dunghill flies That fasten only on our sores ; If I get clink to fill the purse, I'm right, as that is what I want, For fame, I ken, I needna pant, Sic swarms o' great men, now- a. days, Issuing frae Universities, Unto her temple eager press, Whilk looks like a besieged place, An' their petitions they prefer, Importunate to the goddess there For entrance, yet hardly ane O' a hun'er can admittance fin' ; So I despair that e'er a bough My brows, Sir, will adorn. Adieu. STANZAS ON A DRUNKEN TINKLER. FAR i' the north o' Albion's isle, A son o* Belial does dwell, Wha duly ilka day does swill Till he does spout Ilk night, at his bed side, a peel, The fu'some brute. An* aften beats his rib to boot, Wha murder monie a time sings out, An' he does buller like a nowt, An' swear an 1 curse. An' for a razor, his ain throat To cut, he roars. He was a brazier anes, 'tis said, An* tellt the gauger whan he made A still, at times, to get mair trade, A villainous scheme, Wha Highland bodies aft wayluid When carrjin't harae, 80 An' seiz't ; air I dare say its true, For he's arch a knave, I know, On high as ever on a tow Swing'd in a widdie, Nor would I be surpris'd although He spoil'd some Friday. Gin hangie ha'ena the hap to tie Aroun* his neck the halter, I Am sore afraid aul' hornie '11 ha'e Him at the last, Au* in his lowin' ingle aye The rascal roast. & ' * EULOGY ON THE LATE REVEREND DOCTOR KEITH. AH ! shall the soul of venerable Keith Forsake this mortal scene, and mingle with The saints on high unsung; he was a man Who so^ranscendant in his station shone, That he appear'd the Pleiades of the north, But since that luminary's left our earth, Society's sustain'd a loss I fear That a long lapse of time will not repair ; His parts in contact brought him with the great, And was of em'nent use to church an' state. Tho' peers were his com'panions, yet no pride Within his breast dar'd ever to reside, But to the meanest of the human race Was always kind and easy of access; And with a father's fondness lov'd his flock, When any of them were stretch'd on trouble's rack, Even at the silent hour of night he'd hie, Heedless the howling storm obscur'd the sky, 82 To visit them, if indigent they were ; What tem'ral thing he thought they did repuire, He with a liberal hand to them would dole, As well as consolation to the soul. And those who labour'd under any cross Who sought his aid, his influence he'd use, And any toil or (ravel take on him, With willing heart in extricating them, And if he fail'd, they tell, in his intent, He felt more pain than even the applicant. Athletic was his frame, which to the end Of his long race he unimpair'd retained, And love of science, and vig'rous powers of mind. The pulpit he with liveliness adorn'd, A man of piety profoundly learn'd ; His enegetic oratorical art Always electrify'd the human heart ; And at the social board his ample fund Of humour aye enliven'd all around, STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF J. P., WRITING-MAST ETl IN ABERDEEN. O DEATH ! in thy destructive awful range, Alas ! thou hast annihilated one Whose early loss has made the muse to change Her voice, attuned to martial strains, to mourn In lays elegiac, and to bestow A tear of tribute to's departed shade, To whom I by affection's impulse owe, And intimacy long to him allied ; And mutual friendship likewise, to the last Unsullied, that subsisted till his soul Did wing his way beyond the starry host, That stud, like golden gems, the glowing pole. A youth he was unknown to any vice. Envy itself is even obliged to own, That darts on merit its malignant eyes, By whom the road's infested to renown ; 84 Which was a wonder, when too oft 'tis seen, In this backsliding and abandoned age, That youth to giddy folly yields the rein, And incorrigible licentious rage ; And those in general with genius gifted, Ride the rough tide at random, by the gust Of furious frenzy's breath along are drifted, And in the tfddy of intemperance lost. ADDRESS OF CONGRATULATION TO HIS MAJESSIT GEORGE IV. N TttS noYAf. VISIT TO SCOTLAND AUGUST ALL bail Royal stranger! vouchsafe to attend To the lay of a loyal illiterate bard, Who exultingly has the grand jubilee join'd. In welcoming now his illustrious liege lord, To the land of the lake, lofty hill, and ravine, Rill, river, and forest-^moor, valley, and glen. / ' Inviron'd with ramparts of rocks y that repi . an' steekit's e'en, An' laigh the grace he said; Syne bade us say awa' an sup ; Wi' that, wi's ram horn. spoon, He in the dish did deeply dip, An' clawt it whan't was done, Fu' clean that day. Syne chappet kail an* yirn't milk cam', An' then a'^kebuck blue; To crown the whole, we got a dram O' the clear mountain dew, Whilk does inspire the bard to write, The bashfu' lad to woo, The dumb to speak, the coward to fight Wi' courage stout an' true By night or day. An* when the carls had pick'd their teeth, An' were wi' riftin' dane, They forth to view the town went baith, I to the kitchen ben To tak' a smoke ; an' there the chiels Bawdry an' buff did blether, An' garin' their pipes gang like kills, Whilk rais'd a horrid euther O' reek that day. i 2 102 The fi<>em* (their brtfws had by them laid) Were washin' at their dishes, The gawpies whiles they did upbraid, An 1 whiles assumed feign'd blushes, An' whiles they look'd about an' leugb, An' seem'd to like to hear it, Until the boors, o' this rude rough Discourse, I ween, were wearied Themsel's that day, To neighbour towns they hied, to hear The news, an' a 7 salm tune Roar o'er, an' see the lasses there, An' pass the afternoon. The lasses, left them lane, began To won'er gin the lad Wad marry her he'd casten down, Wha in the session had Appeared that day. An* eke those wha at kirk had on A new gown, shawl, or bonnet, They did discourse, an' every one Had her remarks upon it, Wha had the marrow o't, an' wha Did mak it, an' how't set them ; What braw an' bonny lads they saw, An' o' gin they cou'd get them, Wist sair that day. 103 Their clishmaclaver neist did turn On the bridegroom an' bride Wha't kirk had been cried on that morn, An' up at (hem they redd ; Twa chief's that erran' fain wou'd ga'c, But whither 't is the weal O' Britain that at lit art they ha'e, Or no, they ken themseb. The taen 's a wealthy country sqairc, Famed for a. mortal fae Unto the muirfowl an' the hare, An* eke todlowne siee. The tother was a so^cr bred, O' courage stout an' true, An* on the gory field aft tried Against our Gallic foe, Wha aim'd the universe to awe, An' empires overthrew; From Gibraltar lo Moscow His bloody eagles flew. Marrat* first began the plea, Wha deals in grocery ware, Whare Div'ron rins into the sea; An' she an aith did swear, i*' That she her vote to nane would gi'e But to the soger lad, Cause to his brither bound was she In terms o' gratitude. 1 Banff. 109 Baul' Bess, * wha by the bass does dwell Whare Don an' Ury join, Au' sells a dram an' pint o' yill, Seconded Meg her frien'. Anl* Madge, f wha on the banks o? Do Rins an illicit drap, Peer body, when she thinks she can, Raise hirplin' hoollie up. An' o'er her staff twa-fauP she lean'd, In rough grey hoddin' clad, An' held out her aul* withered hand, An* sigh'd an' shook her head. The rheum rain'd frae her dim e'en, An' dowie thus spak' she, ei I ha'e nae vote, my bairns, ye ken, To ony ane to gi'e. " For wha K is pleased to sen* Unto the meikle town, His Lordly will it maun be mine I ken the Laird ? s his man," Nanse J neist wha wons aside the sea, Array 'd in rural weed, Wi' visage wan an' ruefu' e'e, Raise up an* thus reply'd : Inverury. f Kintorc. J Cnllea. K 110 An 1 Tin ty'd down, like peer aul' Madge, By S..f.ld too, I wot ; An' sae the peer will me oblige To gi'e the Laird my vote. AuP lyart* Jess, on Lossie side. Rejoicing loud, gat up, Because ths castin' vote she had, An' clap't her hans an* jap. In spite o' a' the Gr ts, she says, An' swears she'll work her will ; But whilk will be the carlin's choice There's nane as yet can tell. Ae Lord tries sair her heart to win, Wi' rings an' ribbons rare ; Anither, wi' his Lighten* clan, In arms to terrify her. * Elin. HUMBLE ADDRESS TO LORD COCHRANE, IMPLORING HIM TO ASSIST THE SUFFERING GREEKS. SHALL Musselmeti thus mar and wound Greece, hapless, classic, lovely land, Aud Europe's kings spectators stand, And will not stir In her behalf, th' apostate band ! To interfere ? 'Tis crafty politics which fetters Them thus, their Christian fellow creatures From aiding, to whose sires we're debtors For all that's great ID science, arts, or arms, or letters. Tho' desperate The glorious cause of Greece has grown, Thermopylae and Marathon, Where Persia's arm'd hoards were overthrown With turban'd foes, Revolting sight ! resemble down Upon the moss, 112 Or daisies white in summer days, That grow upon the grassy leas, The ;c gorgeous east '' against her is In arms array'd, Which she's unable to repress Alone, indeed. Foes ruthless as the fiends of hell, Or Mohocks with their scalping steel, And discord, too, that demon fell, Enerves her powers, And hostile ships, a thousand sail, Infest her shores, Disgorging oft on her fam'd soil Their hordes, who Alia ! howl and yell, To death and ruin's they rush to deal, Their captives they To slav'ry sell, burn and impale Alive, and flay ! Can any enlighten'd Briton bear Of such atrocities to hear In that land perpetrated, where Arosa the most Illustrious geniuses that e'er The world produced, As Hesiod and Homer's strains, An* 'ts artists' works, et cetera, evince ; Athen's domes, tho ? shaking to ruins By th' hand of time, Tourists incessantly throng thence To gaze on them. IIS The mould'rmg structures grand, say they, And mangled statues to survey, And columns prostrate, amply pay Their cost in crossing The Euxine ox tk* lonku Sea Scenes sure imposing ! O Cochrane ! thou brave vet'ran tar, Tremendous thunderbolt of war, Who' with philanthropy fraught, afar O'er seas did speed, And leagued wi' immortal Bolivar, Colombia freed ! From frantic Ferdinand's fell gripe, Unfurl thy sails, launch out and sweep, With streamers flying, thro' the deep, And rouse and make Grim Vengeance, that seems lull'd asleep, In thunder speak ! From the destructive deep-mouthed gun, And th' Ottoman armaments comman', To the dark caves of Ocean down, To anchor there, Or the Barbarians to the moon, Blaw i' the air ! And o'er the crescent make the cross Triumphant wave, and terminate those Horrifying sufferings and woes Overwhelming Greece, And her from savage bondage loose, And give her peace K 2 114 * Her hands to Albion, red with gore, She extends, imploring her succour, And Heaven will bless thee ever more And thy great name- The vot'ries of freedom will adore, To th* end of time ! SONG. WHEN Edward the despot did Baliol dethrone, Caledonia's glory forever seem'd set, And under oppression's iron rod she did groan, Brave Wallace's blood was inflamed at her fate, And boiling with vengeance his broadsword he drew In *s dear native country's defence, undismayed At danger or death, to the field forth he flew, Against the invaders alone to make head. He roam'd 'mongst the mountains an outiaw'd exile, As free as the eagle, his enemies' dread, And singly did hosts of a hundred assail, Who fell by his arm, or appal'd from him fled ; A bold patriot band, at the sound of his fame Their menacles doff'd, and don'd murrain &ctd mail ; And dauntless in ire did the despot disclaim, An* hied to his aid the fell foe to expel ; And rallied around him, a band whose renown In the glorious annals of fame hence will shine Illustrious, as long as the stars, sun, and moon, In the heavens shall burn, or illumine divine ; And Scotland their mern'ries will dearly revere : Their martial achievements for freedom and famc^ Her sons will with valourous virtue inspire, And their lines too with heroes and patriots teem. 116 They terrible aye were to meet on the field, The tyrant intruders, by their brandish'd glae?es, Like snow by the sun-beams dissolved or recoil'd, In wildest confusion, like wind driven waves. With Bruce too they glearn'd in their patriot bands, Till Scotland from thraldom was utterly freed ; Inroird now among the celestial bands, They rest from their toils, with Michael at their bead. SONG. WHEN first our forefathers arrived in this, isle, They lived by the chace, as old chronicles teU The dress that they wore was the garb of the Gael, Hey for the plaid and the bonnet ; O for the kilt and short hose. But this life of pastime they not long enjoy'd, Rome's Eagles their wings over Albion spread, Who a world overran, and a wilderness made, Hey, &c. As ocean's brown billows incessant assail, The bulwark of granite that girdle our isle, For ages in vain they essay'd to prevail. Hey, &c. 117 The Pictish cameleon insulted them sore, By perfidy, often repeated, and war, Whose nation and name they erazed evermore. Hey, &c. And back yond the southern border afar, The bristled emboss'd Scandinavian boar They chaced, who in England lang wallow'd in gore. Hey, c. From Denmark and Norway they next were annoy'd By clouds of fell harpies, their arrows they plied; Ou pinions of gore they fell fluttering, or fled. Hey, &c. And lastly, proud England's presumptuous pard, In quest of its prey, in their woods often dared, Which hence they as oft to its own forest scared. Hey, &c. And e'er since the thistle's been join' d to the rose. The sons of old Scotland, the universe knows, Ha?e aye been the terror of Albion's foes. Hey, &c. As the heights of Abraham and Aboukir's plains, Barossa, Mount Video, and Mida, evince, And the bloody fields, too, of Belle 'Lliance. Hey for the plaid and the bonnet, O for the kilt and short hose. , C SONG. AT summer eve aften I wander atone By the green blooming banks o' the clear winding Don, Where Ury's sweet tribut'ry stream she receives, That the foot o' the Bass in its course gently laves, When the sun is gane down, an' the western sky Wears, by his reflection, a red flaming dye, An' the azure cloud's edges are ting'd wi' the same, Whase forms are pourtray'd in each smooth glass) stream, An 1 the mavis, the groves an' green woods amang, Harmonious an* mild, sings her sweet evening sang; To muse on the beauties o' nature so fair, In its bloom, an' enjoy the fresh balmy air, An' see my sweet lassie, blythe, barefoot, come by Alarie, Hnkin' hame frae the haugh wi' her kye, Whase sight aye in secret wi' rapture I hail, While the stoun's o' pure love thro* myjbosom core thrill, An' stownlins I tak o' her charms a survey, 1 For my courage aye fails when to speak to'r I try. She's artless an' young, entered just in her teens, The toss o' the village already she reigns ; An* never, O never ! did nature complete A profile moi;e fine,, or,, a figure more_ neat ; Dark brown are her ringlets, dark blue are her een, That brilliantly beam in their orbits so keen, 119 Their lashes resemble the down o 1 the raven, Her lips like a cherry in twain that is cloven, Her teeth are o' ivory, her arms, neck, an' bosom, A* fair as the lilly in May in its blossom, Her cheeks red as rose-buds in June wet wi' dew, An* kind is her heart, her voice mellow ,an' low, Her gait it is graceful, an* modest her mein, An* sprightly her turn, an' her temper serene, An' sic a young lassie, so charming an' sweet, 1 never maun hope ava ever to get; An' since I am destin'd to utter despair, I'll henceforth endeavour to smother the fire That burns in my bosom, an' soon to my end Would bring me, an' banish her out o'*my naind. SONG. * WHAT beauties do adorn my dear, An' bauds this heart o' mine in thrall ; Sweet as a syren's is her air, Straight taper limbs, an* stature tall. Wi' airy tread the mead she trips, Like slaes are her sweet glancin 7 een, An* coal-black hair, an' coral lips, An* crimson cheeks, an' milk-white skin. 120 By wimpling Ury aft I stray, On summer Sunday afternoons, When busk'd's her banks in green so gay, An* spotted wi' white bonny gowans, My Chloe in her walk to meet, An* while I see her ilka time, ^ A wandering there alone, I'll say't, She seems the Niad o' the stream. An' when I see her at a ball, In a f her best, wi' lilly neck, An* cnrlin' raven ringlets, all Light dangling on her rosy cheek, She's flow'r aye o' the fair that's there^ Tho some o' theto are bonny an' braw. An 1 her in secret I admire, An' sit as nane but her I saw. O how delighted do I gaze Alaug the floor to see her skim, F the mazy dance she moves wi' case 'S a cygnet swims in the smooth stream. An' when I hear the enchantress slug, I see not, but I sit an* sigh, Au' my rapt soul on Cupid's wing Tn ecstacy is borne away. Printed by Ritchie, Cobban, & ('-0. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY YC14825