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 KILMARNOCK: 
 PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON. 
 
 M,DCC,LXXXVI. 
 
 ! P O E M s, i 
 
 CHIEFLY IN THE 
 
 SCOTTISH DIALECT, 
 
 B Y 
 
 ROBERT BURNS. 
 
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 THE Simple Bard, unbroke by rules of Art, 
 He pours the wild efFufions of the heart : 
 And if infpir'd, 'tis Nature's pow'rs Infpire ; 
 Her's all the melting thrill, and her's the kindling fire. 
 
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 ^T>^«^4^T^J^ry^TNj,'T?YJT^^T^J<'T^^ 
 
 AMERICAN EDITION, 
 
 REPRINT AND FAC-8IMILE 
 9- 
 
 OF THK 
 
 ORIGINAL KILMARNOCK EDITION. 
 
 PRINTED AT KILMARNOCK, IN ISf.O, BY 
 
 ^/lU^'^/^'-
 
 1 '^-^ 
 
 { i" ) 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 npHE following trifles are not the production 
 of the Poet, who, with all the advantages 
 of learned art, and perhaps amid the elegan- 
 cies and idleneffes of upper life, looks down for 
 a rural theme, with an eye to Theocrites or 
 Virgil. To the Author of this, thefe and other 
 celebrated names their countrymen are, in their 
 original languages, "' A fountain fhut up, and a 
 ' book fealed.' Unacquainted with the neceffary 
 requifites for commencing Poet by rule, he fmgs 
 the fentiments and manners,he felt and faw in him- 
 felf and his ruftic compeers around him, in his 
 and their native language. Though a Rhymer 
 from his earlieft years, at leaft from the earlieft 
 impulfes of the fofter paflionSjit was not till very 
 lately, that the applaufe, perhaps the partiality, 
 of Friendlhip, wakened his vanity, fo far as to 
 
 a 2 
 
 48G164
 
 ( iv ) 
 
 make himthink any thingof his was worth fhow- 
 ing ; and none of the following works were ever 
 compofed with a view to the prefs. To amufe 
 himfelf with the little creations of his own fancy, 
 amid the toil and fatigues of a laborious life ; to 
 tranfcribe the various feelings, the loves, the griefs, 
 the hopes, the fears, in his own breaft; tofindfome 
 kind of counterpoife to the ftruggles of a world, 
 always an alien fcene, a tafk uncouth to the poeti- 
 cal mind ; thefe were his motives for courting the 
 Mufes, and in thefe he found Poetry to be it's 
 own reward. 
 
 Now that he appears in the public character of 
 an Author, he does it with fear and trembling. 
 So dear is fame to the rhyming tribe, that even 
 he, an obfcure, namelefs Bard, fhrinks aghaft, at 
 the thought of being branded as ' An imperti- 
 nent blockhead, obtruding his nonfenfe on the 
 world ; and becaufe he can make a fhift to jingle 
 a few doggerel, Scotch rhymes together, looks 
 upon himfelf as a Poet of no fmall confequence 
 forfooth.' 
 
 It is an obfervation of that celebrated Poet, ''' 
 whofe divine Elegies do honor to our language, 
 
 * Shenflone.
 
 ( V ) 
 
 our nation, and our fpecies, that ' Humility has 
 deprefled many a genius to a hermit, but never 
 raifed one to fame.* If any Critic catches at the 
 word genius^ the Author tells him, once for all, 
 that he certainly looks upon himfelf as pofTeft of 
 fome poetic abilities, otherwife his publifhing in 
 the manner he has done, would be a manoeuvre be- 
 low the worft charadler, which, he hopes, his worft 
 enemy will ever give him : but to the genius of a 
 Ramfay, or the glorious dawnings of the poor, 
 unfortunate Fergufon, he, with equal unafFe(5led 
 fmcerity, declares, that, even in his higheft pulfe 
 of vanity, he has not the moft diftant pretenfions. 
 Thefe two juftly admired Scotch Poets he has of- 
 ten had in his eye in the following pieces ; but ra- 
 ther with a view to kindle at their flame, than 
 for fervile imitation. 
 
 To his Subfcribers,the Author returns his moft 
 fmcere thanks. Not the mercenary bow over a 
 counter, but the heart-throbbing gratitude of the 
 Bard,confcioushowmuchhe is indebted to Bene- 
 volence and Friendfhip, for gratifying him, if he 
 deferves it, in that deareft wifh of every poetic 
 bofom to be diftinguifhed. He begs his read-
 
 ( vi )' 
 
 ers, particularly the Learned and the Polite, who 
 mayhonor him with a perufal,thatthey will make 
 every allowance for Education and Circumftances 
 of Life : but, if after a fair, candid, and impartial 
 criticifm, he Ihall ftand convided of Dulnefsand 
 Nonfenfe, let him be done by, as he would in that 
 
 cafe do by others let him be condemned, 
 
 without mercy, to contempt and oblivion. 
 
 •I-
 
 ( vii ) 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Twa Dogs, a Tale, - - page 9 
 Scotch Drink, - - - 22 
 
 The Author's earneft cry and prayer, to the 
 right honorable and honorable, the Scotch 
 reprefentatives in the Houfe of Commons, 2 9 
 The Holy Fair, - - - 40 
 
 Addrefs to the Deil, - - S5 
 
 The death and dying words of Poor Maillie, 6 2 
 Poor Maillie's Elegy, - - 66 
 
 To J. S****, - _ - 69 
 
 A Dream, - - " " 79 
 
 TheVifion, _ _ _ - 87 
 
 Halloween, - - - - loi 
 
 Theauld Farmer's new-year-morning Salu- 
 tation tohis auldMare, Maggy, on giving 
 her the accuftomed ripp of Corn to han- 
 fel in the new year, - - 118 
 
 The Cotter's Saturday night, infcribed to 
 
 R. A. Efq; - - - 124 
 
 To a Moufe, on turning her up in her Neft, 
 
 with the Plough, November, 1785, 138 
 
 Epiftle to Davie, a brother Poet, - 141 
 The Lament, occafioned by the unfortunate 
 
 iflue of a friend's amour, - - 150 
 
 Defpondency, an Ode, - - 156 
 
 Man was made to mourn, a Dirge, - 160
 
 ( viii ) 
 
 — Winter, a Dirge, - - - * i66 
 
 A Prayer in the profpedl of Death, - i68 
 To a Mountain-Daify, on turning one down, 
 
 with the Plough, in April, 1786, - 170 
 To Ruin, - - - - 1 74 
 
 -« Epiftle to a young Friend, - - 1 76 
 
 On a Scotch Bard gone to the Weft Indies, 181 
 A Dedication to G. H. Efq ; - - 185 
 To a Loufe,on feeing one on a Lady's bon- 
 net at Church, - - - - 192 
 Epiftle to J. L*****k, an old Scotch Bard, 1 95 
 
 to the fame, _ _ _ 202 
 
 to W. S****-"-n, Ochiltree, - 208 
 
 to J. R******,enclofingfome Poems, 218 
 
 Song, It was upon a Lammas night, 222 
 
 Song, Now weftlin winds, and llaught'ring 
 
 guns, - - - - 224 
 
 Song, From thee, Eliza, I muft go, - 227 
 The Farewell, - - - 228 
 
 Epitaphs and Epigrams, - - 230 
 
 A Bard's Epitaph. - - - 234
 
 
 THE 
 
 TWA DOGS. 
 
 y-jT-S' 
 
 TALE. 
 
 ' ^ - AWAS in that place o' Scotland's ifle, 
 
 That bears the name o' auld king 
 
 COIL, 
 
 Upon a bonie day in June, 
 
 When wearing thro' the afternoon, 
 
 Tijoa Dogs^ that were na thrang at hame, 
 
 Forgather'd ance upon a time. 
 
 A
 
 { lo ) 
 The firft I'll name, they ca'd him C<:efat\ 
 Was keepet for His Honor's pleafure ; 
 His hair, his fize, his mouth, his lugs, 
 Shew'd he was nane o' Scotland's dogs, 
 But whalpet fome place far abroad. 
 Where failors gang to fifh for Cod. 
 
 His locked, letter'd, braw brafs-collar 
 Shew'd him the gentleman 2>xC fcholar ; 
 But tho' he was o' high degree. 
 The fient a pride na pride had he, 
 But wad hae fpent an hour carefTan, 
 Ev'n wi' a Tinkler-gipfey's mejfan : 
 At Kirk or Market, Mill or Smiddie, 
 Nae tawted tyke^ tho' e'er fae duddie. 
 But he wad ftan't, as glad to fee him. 
 An' ftroan't on ftanes an' hillocks wi' him. 
 
 The tither was a ploughmati's collie^ 
 A rhyming, ranting, raving billie, 
 Wha for his friend an' comrade had him. 
 And in his freaks had Luath ca'd him.
 
 ( " ) 
 
 After fome dog in * Highland fang ^ 
 
 Was made lang fyne, lord knows how lang. 
 
 He was a gafh, an' faithfu' tyke^ 
 As ever lap a fheugh or dyke. 
 His honeft, fonlie, bawf'nt face, 
 xA.y gat him friends in ilka place ; 
 His breaft was white, his towzie back, 
 Weel clad wi' coat o' glofly black ; 
 His gawfie tail, wi' upward curl. 
 Hung owre his hurdles wi' a fwirl. 
 
 Nae doubt but they were fain o' ither, 
 An' unco pack an' thick thegither ; 
 Wi' focial nofe whyles fnufF'd an' fnowket ; 
 Whyles mice and modewurks they howket; 
 Whyles fcour'd awa in lang excurfion. 
 An' worry'd ither in diverfion ; 
 Till tir'd at laft wi' mony a farce, k.4i,vyyC'< • 
 
 They fet them down upon their arfe, , _, 
 An' there began a lang digreffion ,^uM 
 
 About the lords o' the creation. 
 
 * Cuchullin's dog in OHlan's Fingal.
 
 I 2 
 
 C ^ S A R. 
 
 I've aften wonder'd, honeft Luath^ 
 What fort o' life poor dogs like you have ; 
 An' when \\\.q gentrf s life I faw, 
 What way poor bodies liv'd ava. 
 
 Our Laird gets in his racked rents, 
 His coals, his kane, an' a' his ftents : 
 He rifes when he likes himfel ; 
 His flunkies anfwer at the bell ; 
 He ca's his coach ; he ca's his horfe ; 
 He draws a bonie, filken purfe 
 As lang's my tail, whare thro' the fteeks, 
 The yellow letter'd Geordie keeks. 
 
 Frae morn to een it's nought but toiling, 
 At baking, roafting, frying, boiling; 
 An' tho' the gentry firfl are fteghan. 
 Yet ev'n the ha^ folk fill their peghan 
 Wi' fauce, ragouts, an' fic like trafhtrie, 
 That's little fhort o' downright waftrie. 
 Our Whipper-i?!^ wee, blaf^et wonner, 
 Poor, worthlefs elf, it eats a dinner,
 
 { 13 ) 
 Better than ony Tenant-man 
 His Honor has in a' the Ian' : 
 An' what poor Cot-folk pit their painch in, 
 I own it's paft my comprehenfion. 
 
 L U A T H. 
 
 Trowth, Csefar, whyles their fafh't e- 
 nough ; 
 A Cotte?' howkan in a iheugh, 
 Wi' dirty ftanes biggan a dyke, 
 Bairaa a quarry, an' fic Hke, 
 Himfel, a wife, he thus fuftains, 
 A fmytrie o' wee, duddie weans, 
 An' nought but his han'-daurk, to keep 
 Them right an' tight in thack an' raep. 
 
 An' when they meet wi' fair difafters, 
 Like lofs o' health or want o' mafters. 
 Ye maift wad think, a wee touch langer, 
 An' they maun ftarve o' cauld and hunger : 
 But how it comes, I never kent yet, 
 They're maiftly wonderfii' contented ;
 
 ( H ) 
 An' buirdly chiels, and clever hizzles. 
 Are bred in fic a way as this is. 
 
 C ^ S A R. 
 
 But then, to fee how ye're negleket, 
 How huff'd, an' cuff'd, an' difrefpeket 1 
 L — d man, our gentry care as little 
 For delvers^ ditchers^ an' fic cattle ; 
 They gang as fancy by poor folk, 
 As I wad by a ftinkan brock. 
 
 I've notic'd on our Laird's court-day,, 
 An' mony a time my heart's been wae. 
 Poor tenant bodies, fcant o' cafh, 
 How they maun thole 2i factor's fnafh; 
 He'll ftamp an' threaten, curfe an' fwear. 
 He'll apprehend them, poind their gear ; 
 While they maun ftan', wi' afpecfi: humble, 
 An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble ! 
 
 I fee how folk live that hae riches ; 
 But iurely poor-folk maun be wretches !
 
 ( 15 ) 
 
 I 
 
 L U A T H. 
 
 They're no fae wretched 's ane wad think ; 
 Tho' conftantly on poortith's brink, 
 They're fae accuftom'd wi' the fight, 
 The view o't gies them Uttle fright. 
 
 Then chance and fortune are fae guided, 
 They're ay in lefs or mair provided ; 
 An' tho' fatigu'd wi' clofe employment, 
 A blink o' reft 's a fweet enjoyment. 
 
 The deareft comfort o' their lives, 
 Their grufhie weans an' faithfu' wives ; 
 The prattling things are juft their pride, 
 That fweetens a' their fire fide. 
 
 An' whyles twalpennie-worth o' nappy 
 Can mak the bodies unco happy ; 
 They lay afide their private cares, 
 To mind the Kirk and State affairs ; 
 They'll talk o' patronage an' priefts^ 
 Wi' kindling fury i' their breafts,
 
 ( '6 ) 
 
 9 
 
 Or tell what new taxation's comin, 
 An' ferlie at the folk in LON'ON. 
 
 As bleak-fac'd Hallowmafs returns, 
 They get the jovial, rantan Kirns^ 
 When rural life^ of ev'ry ftation. 
 Unite in common recreation ; 
 Love blinks, Wit flaps, an' focial Mirth 
 Forgets there's care upo' the earth. 
 
 That merry day the year begins, 
 They bar the door on frofty win's ; 
 
 The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream. 
 An' fheds a heart-infpiring fleam ; 
 The luntan pipe, an' fneefhin mill. 
 Are handed round wi' right guid will ; 
 The cantie, auld folks, crackan croufe, 
 The young anes rantan thro' the houfe- 
 My heart has been fae fain to fee them. 
 That I for joy hae barket wi' them. 
 
 Still it's owre true that ye hae faid, 
 Sic game is now owre aften play'd ;
 
 ( ■? ) 
 
 There's monie a creditable J^ock 
 O' decent, honeft, fawlont folk, 
 Are riven out baith root an' branch, 
 Some rafcal's pridefu' greed to quench, 
 Wha thinks to knit himfel the fafter 
 In favor wi' fome gentle Majier^ 
 Wha aiblins thrang a parliamentin^ 
 For Britain's guid his faul indentin 
 
 C iE S A R. 
 
 Haith lad ye little ken about it ; 
 
 For Brit airi s guid ! guid faith! I doubt it. 
 
 Say rather, gaun as PREMIERS lead him. 
 
 An' faying aye or no\ they bid him : 
 
 At Operas an' Plays parading. 
 
 Mortgaging, gambling, mafquerading : 
 
 Or maybe, in a frolic daft. 
 
 To HAGUE or CALAIS takes a waft, 
 
 To make a tour an' tak a whirl. 
 
 To learn bon toji and fee the worl'. 
 
 There, at VIENNA or VERSAILLES, 
 
 He rives his father's auld entails; 
 
 B
 
 ( '8 ) 
 
 Or by MADRID he takes the rout, 
 To thrum guittars an' fecht wi' nowt; 
 Or down Italian V'ljla ftartles, 
 Wh — re-hunting amang groves o' myrtles: 
 Then bowfes drumlie German-water^ 
 To mak himfel look fair and fatter, 
 An' purge the bitter ga's an' cankers, 
 O' curft Venetian b — res an' ch — ncres. 
 
 For Britain^ s guid I for her deftru61:ion ! 
 Wi' diflipation, feud an' fadlion ! 
 
 L U A T H. 
 
 Hech man ! dear firs ! is that the gate, 
 They wafte fae mony a braw eftate ! 
 Are we fae foughten and harafs'd 
 For gear to gang that gate at iaft ! 
 
 O would they ftay aback frae courts, 
 An' pleafe themfels wi' countra fports, 
 It v/ad for ev'ry ane be better. 
 The Laird^ the Tenant^ an' the Cotter! 
 For thae frank, rantan, ramblan billies, 
 Fient haet o' them 's ill hearted fellows ;
 
 ( 19 ) 
 
 Except for breakin o' their timmer, 
 Or fpeakin lightly o' their Limmer^ 
 Or fhootin of a hare or moorcock, 
 The ne'er-a-bit they're ill to poor folk. 
 
 But will ye tell me, mafter Ca:far^ 
 Sure great foWs life's a life o' pleafure ? 
 Nae cauld nor hunger e'er can fteer them, 
 The vera thought o't need na fear them. 
 
 C iE S A R. 
 
 L — d man, were ye but whyles where I am, 
 The gentles ye wad neer envy them ! 
 
 It's true, they need na ftarve or fweat, 
 
 Thro' Winter's cauld, or Summer's heat ; 
 
 They've nae fair-wark to craze their banes, 
 
 An' fill aiild-age wi' grips an' granes; 
 
 But human-bodies are fic fools. 
 
 For a' their colledges an' fchools, 
 
 That when nae r^^/ills perplex them. 
 
 They mak enow themfels to vex them; 
 
 B 2
 
 ( 20 ) 
 
 An' ay the lefs they hae to fturt them, 
 In Hke proportion, lefs will hurt them. 
 
 A country fellow at the pleugh, 
 His acre's till'd, he's right eneugh; 
 A country girl at her wheel. 
 Her di%%en''s done, fhe's unco weel; 
 But Gentlemen, an' Ladies warft, 
 Wi' ev'n down isoant o' isoark are curft. 
 They loiter, lounging, lank an' lazy; 
 Tho' deil-haet ails them, yet uneafy ; 
 Their days, infipid, dull an' taftelefs, 
 Their nights, unquiet, lang an' reftlefs. 
 
 An' ev'n their fports, their balls an' races. 
 Their galloping thro' public places. 
 There's fic parade, fic pomp an' art. 
 The joy can fcarcely reach the heart. 
 
 The Meji caft out in party-matches^ 
 
 Then fowther a' in deep debauches. 
 
 Ae night, they're mad wi' drink an' wh — ring, 
 
 Nieft day their life is paft enduring.
 
 ( 21 ) 
 
 Thie Ladies arm-in-arm in clufters, 
 As great an' gracious a' as fifters ; 
 But hear their abfent thoughts o' ither, 
 They're a run deils an' jads thegither. 
 Whyles, owre the wee bit cup an' platie, 
 They fip xht fcandal-potion pretty ; 
 Or lee-lang nights, wi' crabbet leuks, 
 Pore owre the devil's pi£lur*d betiks; 
 Stake on a chance a farmer's ftackyard, 
 An' cheat Hke ony unhanged blackguard. 
 
 There's fome exceptions, man an' woman ; 
 But this is Gentry's hfe in common. 
 
 By this, the fun was out o' fight, 
 An' darker gloamin brought the night : 
 The bum-clock humm'd wi' lazy drone, 
 The kye flood rowtan i' the loan ; 
 When up they gat an' fhook their lugs, 
 Rejoic'd they were na rncn but dogs ; 
 An' each took off his feveral way, 
 Refolv'd to meet fome ither day.
 
 ( " ) 
 
 SCOTCH DRINK. 
 
 Gie himjlrong Drink until he wink^ 
 
 Thafs finking in defpair; 
 An^ liquor guid tojire his bliiid^ 
 
 That's prejl iso? grief an^ care: 
 There let him bowfe an* deep caroife, 
 
 WP bumpers fo%vi7ig o'er^ 
 Till he forgets his loves or debts, 
 
 An^ minds his griefs no more. 
 
 Solomon's Proverbs, xxxi. 6, 7, 
 
 LET other Poets raife a fracas 
 'Bout vines, an' wines, an' druken 
 Bacchus^ 
 An' crabbed names an' ftories wrack us, 
 
 An' grate our lug, 
 I fnig the juice Scotch bear can mak us. 
 
 In glafs or jug.
 
 ( 23 ) 
 
 O thou, my MUSE! guld, auld SCOTCH 
 DRINK! 
 
 Whether thro' wimplin worms thou jink, 
 Or, richly brown, ream owre the brink. 
 
 In glorious faem, 
 Infpire me, till I lifp an' ivink^ 
 
 To fmg thy name! 
 
 Let hufky Wheat the haughs adorn. 
 And Aits fet up their awnie horn. 
 An' Peafe an' Beans, at een or morn, 
 
 Perfume the plain, 
 Leeze me on thee yoh?i Barleycor?i^ 
 
 Thou king o' grain! 
 
 On thee aft Scotland chows her cood. 
 In fouple fcones, the wale o' food ! 
 Or tumbling in the boiling flood 
 
 Wi' kail an' beef; 
 But when thou pours thy ftrong hearths bloody 
 
 There thou fhines chief. 
 
 Food fills the wame, an' keeps us livin ; 
 Tho' life's a gift no worth receivin.
 
 ( H ) 
 
 When heavy-dragg'd wi' pine 'an' grievin ; 
 
 But oil'd by thee, 
 The wheels o' life gae down-hill, fcrievin, 
 
 Wi' rattlin glee. 
 
 Thou clears the head o' doited Lear; 
 Thou chears the heart o' drooping Care ; 
 Thou firings the nerves o' Labor- fair, 
 
 At's weary toil; 
 Thou ev'n brightens dark Defpair, 
 
 Wi' gloomy fmile. 
 
 Aft, clad in maffy, filler weed, 
 Wi' Gentles thou ered:s thy head ; 
 Yet humbly kind, in time o' need, 
 
 The poor marl's wine ; 
 His wee drap pirratch, or his bread. 
 
 Thou kitchens fine. 
 
 Thou art the life o' public haunts ; 
 But thee, what were our fairs and rants ? 
 Ev'n godly meetings o' the faunts, 
 
 By thee infpir'd.
 
 ( 25 ) 
 
 When gaping they befiege the tents^ 
 
 Are doubly fir'd. 
 
 That merry night we get the corn in, 
 O fweetly, then, thou reams the horn in I 
 Or reekan on a New-year-mornin 
 
 In cog or bicker, 
 An* juft a wee ^T2>.-^ff ritual burn in, 
 
 An' gufty fucker ! 
 
 When Vulcan gies his bellys breath. 
 An' Ploughmen gather wi' their graith, 
 O rare ! to fee thee fizz an' freath 
 
 r the lugget caup ! 
 Then Burnewin comes on like Death 
 
 At ev'ry chap. 
 
 Nae mercy, then, for airn or fteel ; 
 The brawnie, banie, ploughman-chiel 
 Brings hard owrehip, wi' fturdy wheel. 
 
 The ftrong forehammer, 
 Till block an' ftuddie ring an' reel 
 
 Wi' dinfome clamour. 
 C
 
 ( 26 ) 
 
 When fkirlin weanies fee the hght, 
 Thou maks the goffips clatter bright, 
 How fumbling coofs their dearies flight, 
 
 Wae worth them for't ! 
 While healths gae round to him wha, tight^ 
 
 Gies famous fport. 
 
 When neebors anger at a plea, 
 An' jufl: as wud as wud can be, 
 How eafy can the barley-brie 
 
 Cement the quarrel ! 
 It's aye the cheapeft Lawyer's fee 
 
 To tafte the barrel. 
 
 Alake ! that e'er my Mufe has reafon. 
 To wyte her countrymen wi' treafon ! 
 But monie daily weet their weafon 
 
 Wi' liquors nice, 
 An' hardly, in a winter feafon, 
 
 E'er fpier her price. 
 
 Wae worth that Bra7id)\ burnan trafh ! 
 Fell fource o' monie a pain an' braih !
 
 { ^7 ) 
 
 Twins monle a poor, doylt, druken hafli 
 
 O' half his days ; 
 
 An' fends, befide, auld Scotland's calli 
 
 To her warft faes. 
 
 Ye Scots wha wifli auld Scotland well, 
 Ye chief, to you my tale I tell, 
 Poor, placklefs devils like myfel^ 
 
 It fets you ill, 
 Wi' bitter, dearthfu' wines to mell, 
 
 Or foreign gill. 
 
 May Gravels round his blather wrench, 
 An' Gouts torment him, inch by inch, 
 Wha twifts his gruntle wi' a glunch 
 
 O' four difdain, 
 Out owre a glafs o' Whifky-punch 
 
 Wi' honeft men ! 
 
 O Whijky ! foul o' plays an' pranks ! 
 Accept a Bardie's gratefu' thanks ! 
 When wanting thee, what tunelefs cranks 
 
 Are my poor Verfes ! 
 
 C 2
 
 ( 28 ) 
 
 Thou comes they rattle i' their ranks 
 
 At ither's arfes ! 
 
 Thee Ferintofi! O fadly loft ! 
 
 Scotland lament frae coaft to coaft ! 
 
 Now colic-grips, an' barkin hoaft, ' 
 
 May kill us a' ; 
 
 For loyal Forbes' Chartered boajl 
 
 Is ta'en awa ! 
 
 Thae curft horfe-leeches o' th' Excife, 
 Wha mak the Whifkyjiells their prize ! 
 Haud up thy han' Deill ance, twice, thrice! 
 
 There, fieze the blinkers ! 
 An' bake them up in brunftane pies 
 
 For poor d — n'd Drinkers. 
 
 Fortune^ if thou'll but gie me ftill 
 Hale breeks, a fcone, an' ivhijky gill^ 
 An' rowth o' rhyme to rave at will, 
 
 Tak a' the reft. 
 An' deal't about as thy blind fkill 
 
 Diredls thee beft.
 
 ( ^9 ) 
 
 
 THE AUTHOR'S EARNEST CRY 
 AND PRAYER, TO THE RIGHT 
 HONORABLE AND HONORABLE, 
 THE SCOTCH REPRESENTATIVES 
 IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 
 
 Dear eft of Dijlillation ! lajl and bejl !- 
 How art thou loji ! 
 
 Parody on Milton. 
 
 YE Iri/h lords ^ ye knights 2,Vi f quires^ 
 Wha reprefent our Brugks an' Shires^ 
 An' doufely manage our affairs 
 
 In Parliament^ 
 To you a fimple Bardie's pray'rs 
 
 Are humbly fent.
 
 ( 3° ) 
 
 Alas ! my roupet Mtife is haerfe ! 
 Your Honor's hearts wi' grief 'twad pierce, 
 To fee her fittan on her arfe 
 
 Low i' the duft, 
 An' fcriechan out profaic verfe, 
 
 An' Hke to bruft ! 
 
 Tell them wha hae the chief direction, 
 Scotland an' 7ne's in great affli^ion, 
 E'er fm' they laid that curft reftridlion ' 
 
 On AQUAVITjE; 
 An' roufe them up to ftrong convicftion, 
 
 An' move their pity. 
 
 Stand forth and tell yon PREMIER 
 YOUTH, 
 The honeft, open, naked truth : 
 Tell him o' mine an' Scotland's drouth. 
 
 His fervants humble: 
 The muckle devil blaw you fouth, 
 
 If ye diflemble ! 
 
 Does ony great man glunch an' gloom ? 
 Speak out an' never fafli your thumb.
 
 { 3' ) 
 
 l^tipojis ■A.Vi penfmns fink or fwoom 
 
 Wi' them wha grant them: 
 If honeftly they canna come, 
 
 Far better want them. 
 
 In gath'rin votes you were na flack, 
 Now ftand as tightly by your tack : 
 Ne'er claw your lug, an' fidge your back. 
 
 An' hum an' haw. 
 But raife your arm, an' tell your crack 
 
 Before them a'. 
 
 Paint Scotland greetan owre her thrifsle ; 
 ■Her mutchkinjlozvp as toom's a whifsle ; 
 An' d — mn'd Excife-men in a bufsle, 
 
 Seizan a Stell^ 
 Triumphant cruflian't like a mufcle 
 
 Or laimpet fhell. 
 
 Then on the tither hand prefent her, 
 A blackguard Smuggler^ right behint her, 
 An' cheek-for-chow, a chuffie Vintner^ 
 
 Collcaguing join.
 
 ( 3^ ) 
 
 Picking her pouch as bare as Winter, 
 
 Of a' kind coin. 
 
 Is there, that bears the name o' SCOT, 
 But feels his heart's bluid rifing hot. 
 To fee his poor, auld Mither's pot^ 
 
 Thus dung in ftaves. 
 An' plunder'd o' her hindmoft groat. 
 
 By gallows knaves ? 
 
 Alas ! I'm but a namelefs wight, 
 Trode i' the mire out o' fight ! 
 But could I like MONTGOMERIES fight. 
 
 Or gab like BOSWELL, 
 There's iovntfark-necks I wad draui tight, 
 
 An' tye fome hofe well. 
 
 God blefs your Honors, can ye fee't, 
 The kind, auld, cantie Carlin greet, 
 An' no get warmly to your feet. 
 
 An' gar them hear it. 
 An' tell them, wi' a patriot-heat, 
 
 Ye winna bear it ?
 
 { a ) 
 
 Some o' you nicely ken the laws, 
 To round the period an' paufe, 
 An' with rhetoric claufe on ciaufe 
 
 To mak harangues; 
 Then echo thro' Saint Stephen's wa's 
 
 Auld Scotland's wrangs. 
 
 Dempjler^2i true-blue Scot I'fe warran; 
 Thee, aith-detefting, chafte Kilktrran\ 
 An' that glib-gabbet Highland Baron, 
 
 The Laird o' Grahatn ; 
 And ane, a chap that's d — mn'd auldfarran, 
 
 Dundas his name. 
 
 Erjkine^ a fpunkie norland billie ; 
 True Campbells, Frederick an' Hay ; 
 An' Liviftone, the bauld Sir Willie ; 
 
 An' monie ithers. 
 Whom auld Demofthenes or Tully 
 
 Might own for brithers. 
 
 Aroufe my boys ! exert your mettle. 
 
 To get auld Scotland back her kettle! 
 
 D
 
 ( 34 ) 
 
 Or faith ! I'll wad my new pleugh-pettle, 
 
 Ye'll fee't or lang, 
 
 She'll teach you, wi' a reekan whittle, 
 
 Anither fang. 
 
 This while fhe's been in crankous mood. 
 Her loji Militia fir'd her bluid ; 
 (Deil na they never mair do guid, 
 
 Play'd her that plifkie!) 
 An' now fhe's like to rin red-wud 
 
 About her Whijky. 
 
 An' L — d ! if ance they pit her till't, 
 Her tartan petticoat fhe'll kilt, 
 An' durk an' piftol at her belt. 
 
 She'll tak the ftreets, 
 An' rin her whittle to the hilt, 
 
 r th' firft fhe meets ! 
 
 For G — d-fake. Sirs ! then fpeak her fair. 
 An' ftraik her cannie wi' the hair. 
 An' to the muckle hoiife repair, 
 
 Wi' inftant fpeed.
 
 ( 35 ) 
 
 An* ftrive, wi' a' your Wit an' Lear, 
 
 To get remead. 
 
 Yon ill-tongu'd tinkler, Cbarlie Fox, 
 May taunt you wi' his jeers an' mocks ; 
 But gie him't het, my hearty cocks! 
 
 E'en cowe the cadie ! 
 An' fend him to his dicing box, 
 
 An' fportin lady. 
 
 Tell yon guid bluid o' auld Bocomiock's, 
 I'll be his debt twa mafhlum bonnocks, 
 An' drink his health in auld * Nan/e linnock^s 
 
 Nine times a week, 
 If he fome fcheme, like tea an' winnocks, 
 
 Wad kindly feek. 
 
 Could he fome commutation broach, 
 I'll pledge my aith in guid braid Scotch, 
 He need na fear their foul reproach 
 
 Nor erudition. 
 
 * A worthy old Hoflefs of the Author's in Mauchline, 
 where he fometimes fhidies Politics over a glafs of guid, auld 
 Scotch Drink . 
 
 D 2
 
 ( 36 ) 
 
 Yon mixtie-maxtie, queer hotch-potch, 
 
 The Coalition. 
 
 Auld Scotland has a raucle tongue; 
 She's juft a devil wi' a rung ; 
 An' if fhe promife auld or young 
 
 To tak their part, 
 Tho' by the neck fhe fhould be ftrung, 
 
 She'll no defert. 
 
 And now, ye cholen FIVE AND FOR- 
 TY, 
 
 May ftill your Mither's heart fupport ye; 
 Then, tho' a Minijier grow dorty. 
 
 An' kick your place, 
 Ye'll fnap your fingers, poor an' hearty. 
 
 Before his face. ' 
 
 God blefs your Honors, a' your days, 
 Wi' fowps o' kail and brats o' claife, 
 In fpite o' a' the thievifh kaes 
 
 That haunt St. yamie's! 
 Your humble Bardie fings an' prays 
 
 While Rab his name is.
 
 ( 37 ) 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 Let half-ftarv'd flaves in warmer fkies, 
 See future wines, rich-cluft'ring, rife ; 
 Their lot auld Scotland ne'er envies, 
 
 But blythe an' frifky, 
 She eyes her freeborn, martial boys, 
 
 Tak aff their Whilky. 
 
 What tho' their Phoebus kinder warms, 
 While Fragrance blooms an' Beauty charms ! 
 When wretches range, in familh'd fwarms, 
 
 The fcented groves. 
 Or hounded forth, dijhonor arms 
 
 In hungry droves. 
 
 ^\i€vc gun's a burden on their fhouther; 
 They downa bide the ftink o' poisDiher ; 
 Their bauldeft thought's a hank'ring fwither, 
 
 To ftan' or rin,
 
 ( 38 ) 
 
 Till fkelp — a fhot — they're afF, a' throw- 
 'ther, 
 
 To fave their fkin. 
 
 But bring a SCOTCHMAN frae his 
 hill, 
 Clap in his cheek a Highland gill ^ 
 Say, fuch is royal GEORGE'S will. 
 
 An' there's the foe, 
 He has nae thought but how to kill 
 
 Twa at a blow. 
 
 Nae cauld, faint-hearted doubtings teafe 
 him; 
 Death comes, wi' fearlefs eye he fees him ; 
 Wi' bluidy han' a welcome gies him ; 
 
 An' when he fa's, 
 His lateft draught o' breathin lea'es him 
 
 In faint huzzas. 
 
 Sages their folemn een may fteek. 
 An' raife a philofophic reek. 
 An' phyfically caufes feek. 
 
 In dime ^W feafon^
 
 ( i9 ) 
 
 But tell me Wbi/k/s name in Greek, 
 
 I'll tell the reafon. 
 
 SCOTLAND, my auld, refpeaed Mither ! 
 Tho' whyles ye moiftify your leather. 
 Till whare ye fit, on craps o' heather. 
 
 Ye tine your dam ; 
 FREEDOM and WHISKY gang the- 
 gither, 
 
 Tak aff your dram ! 

 
 ( 4° ) 
 
 ■>i&» jeJKjA^^fAAiAa.f-^KjAAA@ .:^^ 
 
 THE 
 
 HOLY FAIR, 
 
 A robe offeeming truth and truji 
 
 Hid crafty obfervation ; 
 Andfecret hung^ with poifoiCd cruji. 
 
 The dirk of Defamation: 
 A mafk that like the gorget fhow'd^ 
 
 Dye-varying^ on the pigeon ; 
 And for a mantle large and broad^ 
 
 He wrapt him in Religion. 
 
 Hypocrisy a-la-Modh. 
 I. 
 
 UPON a fimmer Sunday morn. 
 When Nature's face is fair, 
 I walked forth to view the corn, 
 An' fnufF the callor air.
 
 ( 41 ) 
 
 The rifing fun, our GALSTON Muirs, 
 Wi' glorious light was glintan ; 
 
 The hares were hirplan down the furrs. 
 The lav'rocks they were chantan 
 
 Fu' fweet that day. 
 
 II. 
 
 As lightfomely I glowr'd abroad, 
 
 To fee a fcene fae gay. 
 Three bizzies^ early at the road, 
 
 Cam fkelpan up the way. 
 Twa had manteeles o' dolefu' black. 
 
 But ane wi' lyart lining ; 
 The third, that gaed a wee a-back, 
 
 Was in the fafhion fhining 
 
 Fu' gay that day. 
 
 III. 
 
 The twa appear'd like fiflers twin, 
 
 In feature, form an' claes ; 
 Their vifage wither'd, lang an' thin, 
 
 An' four as ony flaes :
 
 ( 4^ ) 
 
 The third cam up, hap-ftep-an'-loup, 
 
 As light as ony lambie, 
 An' wi' a curchie low did ftoop, 
 
 As foon as e'er llie faw me, 
 
 Fu' kind that day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Wi' bonnet aff, quoth I, " Sweet lafs, 
 
 " I think ye feem to ken me ; 
 " I'm fure I've feen that bonie face, 
 
 " But yet I canna name ye." 
 Quo' fhe, an' laughan as fhe fpak. 
 
 An' taks me by the ban's, 
 " Ye, for my fake, hae gien the feck 
 
 " Of a' the ten commati's 
 
 A fcreed fome day." 
 
 V. 
 
 " My name is FUN — your cronie dear, 
 " The neareft friend ye hae ; 
 
 " An' this is SUPERSTITION here, 
 " An' that's HYPOCRISY.
 
 { 43 ) 
 " I'm gaun to ********* holy fair ^ 
 
 " To fpend an hour in daffin : 
 " Gin ye'll go there, yon runkl'd pair, 
 " We will get famous laughin 
 
 At them this day." 
 
 VI. 
 
 Quoth I, " With a' my heart, I'll do't ; 
 
 " I'll get my funday's fark on, 
 " An' meet you on the holy fpot ; 
 
 " Faith, we'fe hae fine remarkin ! " 
 Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time, 
 
 An' foon I made me ready ; 
 For roads were clad, frae fide to lide, 
 
 Wi' monie a wearie body, 
 
 In droves that day. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Here, farmers gafh, in ridin graith, 
 
 Gaed hoddan by their cotters ; 
 
 There, fwankies young, in braw braid-claith. 
 
 Are fpringan owre the gutters. 
 
 E 2
 
 ( 44 ) 
 
 The lafles, fkelpan barefit, thrang, 
 
 In filks an' fcarlets glitter ; 
 ^V fweet-milk cheefe^ in monie a whang, 
 
 An' far Is ^ bak'd wi' butter, 
 
 Fu' crump that day. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 When by iht plate we fet our nofe, 
 
 Weel heaped up wi' ha'pence, 
 A greedy glowr black-bonnet throws. 
 
 An' we maun draw our tippence. 
 Then in we go to fee the fhow, 
 
 On ev'ry fide they're gath'ran ; 
 Some carryan dails, fome chairs an' ftools, 
 
 An' fome are bufy bleth'ran 
 
 Right loud that day. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Here ftands a fhed to fend the fhow'rs, 
 An' fcreen our countra Gentry ; 
 
 There, racer Jefs, an' twathree wh — res, 
 Are blinkan at the entry.
 
 ( 45 ) 
 
 Here fits a raw o' tittlan jads, 
 
 Wi' heaving breafts an' bare neck ; 
 
 An' there, a batch o' Wabjier lads^ 
 Blackguarding frae K "" ""' '" '" '" "'' ^' ck 
 
 Y ox fun this day. 
 
 X. 
 
 Here, fome are thinkan on their fins, 
 
 An' lome upo' their claes ; 
 Ane curfes feet that fyl'd his (bins, 
 
 Anither fighs an' prays : 
 On this hand fits an Eledl fwatch, 
 
 Wi' fcrew'd-up, grace-proud faces ; 
 On that, a fet o' chaps, at watch, 
 
 Thrang winkan on the lafles 
 
 To chairs that day. 
 
 XL 
 
 O happy is that man, an' bleft ! 
 
 Nae wonder that it pride him ! 
 Whafe ain dear lafs, that he Hkes bell. 
 
 Comes clinkan down befide him !
 
 ( 46 ) 
 
 Wi' arm repof 'd on the chair-back^ 
 He fweetly does compofe him ; 
 
 Which, by degrees, flips round her neck^ 
 An's loof upon her bofom 
 
 Unkend that day. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Now a' the congregation o'er 
 
 Is filent expectation ; 
 For ****** fpeels the holy door, ,/^^ , 
 
 Wi' tidings o' f— Iv— t— n. ^< "*^^ 
 
 Should Hornie^ as in ancient days, 
 
 'Mang fons o' G — prefent him, 
 The vera light o' ******'s face, ^ 
 
 To's ain het hame had fent him 
 
 Wi' fright that day. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Hear how he clears the points o' Faith 
 
 Wi' rattlin an' thumpin ! 
 Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath. 
 
 He's ftampan, an' he's jumpan !
 
 ( 47 ) 
 
 His lengthen'd chin, his turn'd up fnout. 
 His eldritch fqueel an' geftures, 
 
 O how they fire the heart devout, 
 Like cantharidlan plaifters 
 
 On fic a day ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But hark ! the tent has chang'd it's voice ;, 
 
 There's peace an' reft nae langer ; 
 For a' the real judges rife, 
 
 They canna fit for anger. 
 ***** opens out his cauld harangues, 
 
 On pra&ice and on morals; 
 An' aff the godly pour in thrangs. 
 
 To gie the jars an' barrels 
 
 A lift that day. 
 
 XV. , 
 
 What fignifies his barren fliine. 
 Of moral powers an' reafo?iP 
 
 His Englifh ftyle, an' gefture fine. 
 Are a' clean out o' feafon.
 
 ( 4« ) 
 
 Like SOCRATES or ANTONINE, 
 
 Or fome auld pagan heathen, 
 The moral ma?i he does define, 
 
 But ne'er a word o^ faith in ^ 
 
 That's right that day. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 In guid time comes an antidote 
 
 Againft fie poofion'd noftrum; 
 For *******, frae the water-fit, 
 
 Afcends the holy rojirum : 
 See, up he's got the word o' G — , 
 
 An' meek an' mim has view'd it. 
 While COMMON-SENSE has taen the 
 road. 
 
 An' afF, an' up the Cowgate 
 
 Faft, fall that day. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Wee ****** nieft, the Guard relieves, 
 
 An' Orthodoxy raibles, 
 Tho' in his heart he weel believes, 
 
 An' thinks it auld wives' fables :
 
 ( 49 ) 
 
 But faith ! the birkle wants a Manft^ 
 
 So, canniHe he hums them ; 
 Altho' his cartial Wit an' Senie 
 
 Like hafflins-wife o'ercomes him 
 
 At times that day. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Now, butt an' ben, the Change-houfe fills, 
 
 Wi' ytll-caiip Commentators : 
 Here's crying out for bakes an' gills, 
 
 An' there the pint-ftowp clatters ; 
 While thick an' thrang, an' loud an' lang, 
 
 Wi' Logic^ an' wi' Scripture^ 
 They raife a din, that, in the end, 
 
 Is like to breed a rupture 
 
 O' wrath that day. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Leeze me on Drink ! it gies us mair 
 
 Than either School or Colledge : 
 
 It kindles Wit, it waukens Lear, 
 
 It pangs us fou o' Knowledge. 
 
 F
 
 ( JO ) 
 
 Be't whyky-gill or penny-wheep^ 
 
 Or ony ftronger potion, 
 It never fails, on drinkin deep, 
 
 To kittle up our notio?i^ 
 
 By night or day. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The lads an' lafTes, blythely bent 
 
 To mind h^ixihfaul an' body^ 
 Sit round the table, weel content, 
 
 An' fteer about the toddy. 
 On this ane's drefs, an' that ane's leuk, 
 
 They're makin obfervations ; 
 While fome are cozie i' the neuk, 
 
 An' forming ajjignations 
 
 To meet fome day. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 But now the L — 's ain trumpet touts, 
 
 Till a' the hills are rairan, 
 An' echos back return the fhouts ; 
 
 Black ****** is na fpairan :
 
 { s^ ) 
 
 His piercin words, like Highlan fwords, 
 Divide the joints an' marrow ; 
 
 His talk o' H — 11, whare devils dwell, 
 Our vera * " Sauls does harrow" 
 
 Wi' fright that day ! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 A vaft, unbottom'd, boundleis P/V, 
 
 Fill'd fou o' lowan brunjlajie^ 
 Whafe raging flame, an' fcorching heat, 
 
 Wad melt the hardeft whun-ftane ! 
 The half ajlcep ftart up wi' fear, 
 
 An' think they hear it roaran. 
 When prefently it does appear, 
 
 'Twas but fome nt€c>Q)X fnoran 
 
 Afleep that day. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 'Twad be owre lang a tale to tell, 
 
 How monie ftories paft. 
 An' how they crouded to the yill, 
 
 When they were a' difmift : 
 
 * Shakefpcarc's Hamlet.
 
 ( 52 ) 
 
 How drink gaed round, in cogs an' caups, 
 Amang the furms an' benches ; 
 
 An' cheefe an' bread^ frae women's laps, 
 Was dealt about in lunches. 
 
 An' dawds that day. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 In comes a gawfie, gafh Guidwife^ 
 
 An' fits down by the fire. 
 Syne draws her kebbuck an' her knife ; 
 
 The laffes they are fhyer. 
 The auld Guidmen^ about \ht. grace ^ 
 
 Frae fide to fide they bother, 
 Till fome ane by his bonnet lays, 
 
 An' gies them't like a tether^ 
 
 Fu' lang that day. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Waefucks ! for him that gets nae lafs. 
 
 Or lafles that hae naething ! 
 Sma' need has he to fay a grace. 
 
 Or melvie his braw claithing !
 
 ( Si ) 
 
 O Wives be mindfu'-, ance yourfel, 
 
 How bonie lads ye wanted, 
 An' dinna, for a kebbuck-heel^ 
 
 Let lafles be affronted 
 
 On fic a day ! 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Now Cl'mkumbell^ wi' rattlan tow, 
 
 Begins to jow an' croon ; 
 Some fwagger hame, the beft they dow. 
 
 Some wait the afternoon. 
 At flaps the biUies halt a blink. 
 
 Till lafl^es ftrip their ihoon : 
 Wi^ faith an' hope^ an' love an' dri?ik^ 
 
 They're a' in famous tune 
 
 For crack that day. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 How monie hearts this day converts, 
 
 O' fmners and o' Laifes ! 
 Their hearts o' ftane, gin night are gane. 
 
 As faft as ony fleih is.
 
 ( 54 ) 
 
 There's fome are fou o' lo,ve divine ; 
 
 There's fome are fou o' brandy ; 
 An' monie jobs that day begin, 
 
 May end in Houghmagandie 
 
 Some ither day. 

 
 ( 55 ) 
 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 T O 
 
 THE D E I L. 
 
 Prince, chief of many throned povors, 
 That led tF embattV d Seraphim to war — 
 
 Milton. 
 
 OThou, whatever title fuit thee ! 
 Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie, 
 Wha in yon cavern grim an' footie, 
 
 Clof 'd under hatches, 
 Spairges about the brunftane cootie, 
 
 To Tcaud poor wretches !
 
 ( 56 ) 
 
 Hear me, auld Ha?igie^ for a wee, 
 An' let poor, damned bodies bee ; 
 I'm fure fma' pleafure it can gie, 
 
 Ev'n to a deil^ 
 To ikelp an' fcaud poor dogs like me, 
 
 An' hear us fqueel ! 
 
 Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame ; 
 Far kend an' noted is thy name ; 
 An' tho' yon loivaii heugJj's thy hame, 
 
 Thou travels far ; 
 An' faith ! thou's neither lag nor lame, 
 
 Nor blate nor fcaur. 
 
 Whyles, ranging like a roaran lion. 
 For prey, a' holes an' corners tryin ; 
 Whyles, on the ftrong-wing'd Tempeft fly in, 
 
 Tirlan the kirks ; 
 Whyles, in the human bofom pryin, 
 
 Unfeen thou lurks. 
 
 I've heard my rev'rend Grainiie fay, 
 In lanely glens ye like to ftray ;
 
 ( 57 ) 
 
 Or where auld, ruin'd caftles, gray, 
 
 Nod to the moon, 
 
 Ye fright the nightly wand'rer's way, 
 
 Wi' eldritch croon. 
 
 When twilight did my Grannie fummon, 
 To fay her pray'rs, doufe, honeft woman ! 
 Aft 'yont the dyke fhe's heard you bum- 
 man, 
 
 Wi' eerie drone ; 
 Or, ruftling, thro' the boortries coman, 
 
 Wi' heavy groan. 
 
 Ae dreary, windy, winter night. 
 The ftars (hot down wi' fklentan light, 
 Wi' you, myfcl^ I gat a fright, 
 
 Ayont the lough ; 
 Ye, like a rajh-bufs^ ftood in fight, 
 
 Wi' waving fugh. 
 
 The cudgel in my nieve did ihake. 
 
 Each briftl'd hair ftood like a ftake, 
 
 When wi' an eldritch, ftoor qiiaick^ qiiaick^ 
 
 Amang the fprings, 
 G
 
 { J8 ) 
 
 Awa ye fquatter'd like a drake^ 
 
 On whiftling wings. 
 
 Let Warlocks grim, an' wither'd Hags^ 
 Tell how wi' you on ragweed nags, 
 They fkim the muirs an' dizzy crags, 
 
 Wi' wicked fpeed ; 
 And in kirk-yards renew their leagues, 
 
 Owre howcket dead. 
 
 Thence, countra wives, wi' toil an' pain, 
 May plunge an' plunge the kirn in vain ; 
 For Oh ! the yellow treafure's taen 
 
 By witching {kill ; 
 An' dawtet, twal-pint Hawkie^s gane 
 
 As yell's the Bill. 
 
 Thence, myftic knots mak great abufe, 
 On Toung-Giiidme?!^ fond, keen an' croofe ; 
 When the beft ivark-liwie i' the houfe. 
 
 By cantraip wit. 
 Is inftant made no worth a loufe, 
 
 Juft at the bit.
 
 ( 59 ) 
 
 When thowes diflblve the fnawy hoord, 
 An' float the jinglan icy boord, 
 Then, Water-kelpies haunt the foord, 
 
 By your direcftion, 
 An' nighted Trav'llers are aUur'd 
 
 To their deftruclion. 
 
 An' aft your mofs-traverling Spunkies 
 Decoy the wight that late an' drunk is : 
 The bleezan, curft, mifchievous monkies 
 
 Delude his eyes, 
 Till in fome miry flough he funk is. 
 
 Ne'er mair to rife. 
 
 When MASONS' myftic -word an' grip. 
 In ftorms an' tempefts raife you up, 
 Some cock or cat, your rage maun ftop, 
 
 Or, ftrange to tell ! 
 ^h^ youngeji Brother ye wad whip 
 
 AfF ftraught to H — //. 
 
 Lang fyne in EDEN'S bonie yard. 
 
 When youthfu' lovers firft were pair'd, 
 
 G 2
 
 ( 6° ) 
 
 An' all the Soul of Love they (har'd, 
 
 The raptur'd hour, 
 
 Sweet on the fragrant, flow'ry fwaird. 
 
 In fhady bow'r. 
 
 Then you, ye auld, fnick-drawing dog ! 
 Ye cam to Paradife incog, 
 An' play'd on man a curfed brogue, 
 
 (Black be your fa' !) 
 An' gled the infant warld a ihog, 
 
 'Maift ruin'd a'. 
 
 D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz, 
 Wi' reeket duds, an' reeftet gizz. 
 Ye did prefent your fmoutie phiz, 
 
 'Mang better folk. 
 An' fklented on the man ofU%z^ 
 
 Your fpitefu' joke ? 
 
 An how ye gat him i' your thrall. 
 An' brak him out o' houfe an' hal', 
 While fcabs an' botches did him gall, 
 
 Wi' bitter claw.
 
 ( (^' ) 
 
 An' lowf'd his ill-tongu'd, wicked Scawl 
 
 Was warft ava ? 
 
 But a' your doings to rehearfe, 
 Your wily fnares an' fechtin fierce, 
 Sin' that day * MICHAEL did you pierce, 
 
 Down to this time, 
 Wad ding a Lallan tongue, or Erfe^ 
 
 In Profe or Rhyme. 
 
 An' now, auld Cloots^ I ken ye're thinkan, 
 A certain Bardie^ rantin, drinkin, 
 Some lucklefs hour will fend him linkan. 
 
 To your black pit; 
 But faith ! he'll turn a corner jinkan, 
 
 An' cheat you yet. 
 
 But fare-you-weel, auld Nick'te-beii ! 
 O wad ye tak a thought an' men' ! 
 Ye aiblins might — I dinna ken — 
 
 Still hae dijiake — 
 I'm wae to think upo' yon den, 
 
 Ev'n for your fake ! 
 
 * Vide Milton, Book 6th.
 
 ( 62 ) 
 
 THE DEATH AND DYING WORDS 
 
 O F 
 
 « 
 
 POOR MAILIE, 
 
 THE AUTHOR'S ONLY PET YOWE, 
 
 AN UNCO MOURNFU' TALE. 
 
 AS MAILIE, an' her lambs thegither, 
 Was ae day nibt>ling on the tether, 
 Upon her cloot fhe cooft a hitch, 
 An' owre fhe waril'd in the ditch : 
 There, groaning, dying, ihe did ly. 
 When * Hughoc he cam doytan by. 
 
 * A neibor herd-callan.
 
 ( ('i ) 
 
 Wi' glowrin een, an' lifted han's, 
 Poor Hughoc like a ftatue ftan's ; 
 He faw her days were near hand ended, 
 But, waes my heart ! he could na mend it ! 
 He gaped wide, but naething fpak, 
 At length poor Mailie filence brak. 
 
 " O thou, whafe lamentable face 
 Appears to mourn my woefu' cafe ! 
 My dy'nig isuords attentive hear, 
 An' bear them to my Majler dear. 
 
 Tell him, if e'er again he keep 
 As muckle gear as buy ^fiecp^ 
 O, bid him never tye them mair, 
 Wi' wicked firings o' hemp or hair ! 
 But ca them out to park or hill, 
 An' let them wander at their will : 
 So, may his flock increafe an' grow 
 To fcoj^es o' lambs, an' packs of woo' ! 
 
 Tell him, he was a Mailer kin', 
 An' ay was guid to me an' mine ;
 
 ( 64 ) 
 
 An' now my dyhig charge I gae him. 
 My helplefs lambs^ I truft them wi' him. 
 
 O, bid him fave their harmlefs lives, 
 Frae dogs an' tods, an' butchers' knives \ 
 But gie them guid cow-milk their fill, 
 Till they be fit to fend themfel ; 
 An' tent them duely, e'en an' morn, 
 Wi' taets o' hay an' ripps o' corn. 
 
 An' may they never learn the gaets. 
 Of ither vile, wanreftfu' Pets ! 
 To (link thro' flaps an' reave an' fl:eal. 
 At fl:acks o' peafe, or fl:ocks o' kail. 
 So may they, like their gvQ.^X. forbears. 
 For monie a year come thro' the fheers : 
 So 'wives will gie them bits o' bread, 
 An' bairns greet for them when they're dead. 
 
 My poor toop-lamb^ my fon an' heir, 
 O' bid him breed him up wi' care ! 
 An' if he live to be a beafl:, 
 To pit fome bavins in his breaft !
 
 ( 65 ) 
 
 An' warn him ay at ridin time, 
 To ftay content wi' yowes at hame ; 
 An' no to rin an' wear his cloots, 
 Like ither menfelefs, gracelefs brutes. 
 
 An' nieft mj yowie^ lilly thing, 
 Gude keep thee frae a tether Jl ring ! 
 O, may thou ne'er forgather up, 
 Wi' onie blaftet, moorlan toop ; 
 But ay keep mind to moop an' mell, 
 Wi' llieep o' credit Hke thyfel ! 
 
 And now, my bairns^ wi' my laft breath, 
 I lea'e my bleffin wi' you baith : 
 An' when ye think upo' your Mither, 
 Mind to be kind to ane anither. 
 
 Now, honeft Hughoc, dinna fail, 
 To tell my Mafter a' my tale ; 
 An' bid him burn this curfed tether^ 
 An' for thy pains thou'fe get my blather. 
 
 This faid, poor Mail'te turn'd her head. 
 
 An' clof'd her een amang the dead ! 
 
 H
 
 ( 66 ) 
 
 POOR MAILIE'S ELEGY. 
 
 LAMENT in rhyme, lament in profe, 
 Wi' faut tears trickling down your nofe ; 
 Our Bardie* s fate is at a clofe, 
 
 Paft a' remead ! 
 The laft, fad cape-ftane of his woes ; 
 
 Poor Maine's dead ! 
 
 It's no the lofs o' warl's gear, 
 That could fae bitter draw the tear, 
 Or make our Bardie^ dowie, wear 
 
 The mourning weed : 
 He's loft a friend and neebor dear. 
 
 In Mailie dead. 
 
 Thro' a' the town fhe trotted by him ; 
 A lang half-mile fhe could defcry him ; 
 Wi' kindly bleat, when fhe did fpy him, 
 
 She ran wi' fpeed : 
 A friend mair faithfu' ne'er came nigh him, 
 
 Than Mailie dead.
 
 ( 67 ) 
 
 I wat {he was dcjheep o' fenfe, 
 An' could behave herfel wi' menfe : 
 I'll fay't, (he never brak a fence, 
 
 Thro' thieviih greed. 
 Our Bardie^ lanely, keeps the fpence 
 
 Sin' Mailie s dead. 
 
 Or, if he wanders up the howe. 
 Her living image in her yowe^ 
 Comes bleating till him, owre the knowe, 
 
 For bits o' bread ; 
 An' down the briny pearls rowe 
 
 For Mailie dead. 
 
 She was nae get o' moorlan tips, 
 Wi' tauted ket, an' hairy hips ; 
 For her forbears were brought in fhips, 
 
 Frae'yont the TWEED 
 A homtv Jleejh ne'er crofs'd the clips 
 
 Than Maine's dead. 
 
 Wae worth that man wha firft did fhape, 
 
 That vile, wanchancie thing — a raep ! 
 
 H 2
 
 ( 68 ) 
 
 It maks guid fellows girn an* gape, 
 
 Wi' chokin dread ; 
 
 An' Robhi^s bonnet wave wi' crape 
 
 For Mailie dead. 
 
 O, a' ye Bards on bonle D O O N ! 
 An' wha on AIRE your chanters tune ! 
 Come, join the melancholious croon 
 
 O' Robi?i*s reed ! 
 His heart will never get aboon ! 
 
 His Maine's dead ! 

 
 ( 69 ) 
 
 
 TO I s ^ ^K- ^^ * 
 
 ^\5 
 
 Frlcndjldip^ myjlerlous cement of the foul ! 
 Sweeffier of Lfe^ and folder of Society I 
 I Give thee rnuch 
 
 Blair. 
 
 DEAR S****, the fleeft, pawkie thief, 
 That e'^r attempted ftealth or rief, 
 Ye llirelv hae Ibme warlock-breef 
 
 Owre human hearts; 
 For ne'er a bofom yet was prief 
 
 Agalnfl your arts. 
 
 For me, 1 fwear by fun an' moon. 
 And ev'ry ftar that bhnks aboon, 
 Ye've coft me twenty pair o' fhoon 
 
 ]\\{i gaun to lee you ;
 
 ,( 70 ) 
 
 And ev'ry ither pair that's dpne, 
 
 Mair taen I'm wi' you. 
 
 That auld, capricious carlin, Nature^ 
 To mak amends for fcrimpet ftature, 
 She's turn'd you off, a human-creature 
 
 On hQYjirft plan, 
 And in her freaks, on ev'ry feature. 
 
 She's wrote, the Man. 
 
 Juft now I've taen the fit o' rhyme, 
 My barmie noddle's working prime. 
 My fancy yerket up fublime 
 
 Wi' hafty fummon : 
 Hae ye a leifure-moment's time 
 
 To hear what's comin ? 
 
 Some rhyme a* neebor's name to lafh ; 
 Some rhyme, (vain thought !) for needfu' 
 
 cafh ; 
 Some rhyme to court the countra clafh. 
 
 An' raife a din ; 
 For me, an aim I never fafh ; 
 
 I rhyme for ///;/.
 
 ( 7' ) 
 
 The ftar that rules my lucklefs lot, 
 Has fated me the ruffet coat, 
 An' damn'd my fortune to the groat ; 
 
 But, in requit, 
 Has bleft me with a random-Jldot 
 
 O' countra wit. 
 
 This while my notion's taen a fklent. 
 To try my fate in guid, hX-^ok. prent-. 
 But ftill the mair I'm that way bent, 
 
 Something cries, " Hoolie ! 
 " I red you, honeft man, tak tent ! 
 
 Ye'll ihaw your folly. 
 
 " There's ither Poets, much your betters, 
 " Far feen in Greek^ deep men o' letters^ 
 " Hae thought they had enfur'd their debtors, 
 
 " A' future ages ; 
 " Now moths deform in fhapelefs tatters, 
 
 " Their unknown pages." 
 
 Then farewel hopes of Laurel-boughs, 
 To garland my poetic brows !
 
 ( r- ) 
 
 Henceforth, I'll rove where buly ploughs 
 
 Are whiftling thrang. 
 
 An' teach the lanely heights an' howes 
 
 My ruftic fang. 
 
 I'll wander on with tentlefs heed, 
 How never-halting moments fpeed, 
 Till fate fhall fnap the brittle thread ; 
 
 Then, all unknown, 
 I'll lay me with th' inglorious dcad^ 
 
 Forgot and gone ! 
 
 But why, o' Death, begin a tale ? 
 Juft now we're living found an' hale ; 
 Then top and maintop croud the fail. 
 
 Heave C^r<? o'er-fide ! 
 And large, before Enjoyment's gale. 
 
 Let's tak the tide. 
 
 This life, fae far's I underfland, 
 Is a' enchanted fairy-land. 
 Where Pleafure is the Magic-wand, 
 
 That, wielded right,
 
 ( 73 ) 
 
 Maks Hours like Minutes, hand in hand, 
 
 Dance by fu' light. 
 
 The magic-ivaTid then let us wield ; 
 For, ance that five an' forty's fpeel'd, 
 See, crazy, weary, joylefs Eild, 
 
 Wi' wrinkl'd face, 
 Comes hoftan, hirplan owre the field, 
 
 VVi' creeping pace. 
 
 When ance lifers day draws near the 
 gloamin. 
 Then fareweel vacant, carelefs roamin ; 
 An' fareweel chearfu' tankards foamin. 
 
 An' focial noife; 
 An' fareweel dear, deluding woman. 
 
 The joy of joys ! 
 
 O Life! how pleafant in thy morning. 
 
 Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning ! 
 
 Cold-paufing Caution's leflbn fcorning. 
 
 We frifk away, 
 I
 
 ( 74 ) 
 
 Like fchool-boys, at th' expev5led warning. 
 
 To joy and play. 
 
 We wander there, we wander here, 
 We eye the rofe upon the brier. 
 Unmindful that the thorn is near. 
 
 Among the leaves ; 
 And tho' the puny wound appear. 
 
 Short while it grieves. 
 
 Some, lucky, fihd a flow'ry fpot. 
 For which they never toil'd nor fwat ; 
 They drink iht/weet and eat thefaf. 
 
 But care or pain ; 
 And hap'ly, eye the barren hut, 
 
 With high difdain. 
 
 With fteady aim, Some Fortune chafe ; 
 Keen hope does ev'ry fmew brace ; 
 Thro' fair, thro' foul, they urge the race, 
 
 And fieze the prey : 
 Then canie, in fome cozie place. 
 
 They clofe the day.
 
 ( 75 ) 
 
 And others, like your humble fervan'. 
 Poor wights ! nae rules nor roads obfervin ; 
 To right or left, eternal fwervin, 
 
 They zig-zag on ; 
 Till curft with Age, obfcure an' ftarvin, 
 
 They aften groan. 
 
 Alas ! what bitter toil an' {training — 
 But truce with peevifh, poor complaining ! 
 Is Fortune's fickle Luna waning ? 
 
 E'en let her gang ! 
 Beneath what light fhe has remaining, 
 
 Let's fing our Sang. 
 
 My pen I here fling to the door. 
 And kneel, ' Ye Pow'rs^ and warm implore, 
 * Tho' I fhould wander Terra o'er, 
 
 * In all her climes, 
 ' Grant me but this, I afk no more, 
 
 * Ay rowth o' rhymes. 
 
 ' Gie dreeping roafts to countra Lairds^ 
 ' Till icicles hing frae their beards ; 
 
 I 2
 
 ( 76 ) 
 
 ' Gie fine braw claes to fine Life-guards^ 
 
 ' And Maids of Honor ; 
 
 ' And yill an' whifky gie to Cairds^ 
 
 ' Until they fconner. 
 
 ' A Title, DEMPSTER merits it; 
 ' A Garter gie to WILLIE PIT ; 
 ' Gie Wealth to fome be-ledger'd Cit, 
 
 ' In cent per cent ; 
 ' But give me real, fterling Wit, 
 
 ' And I'm content. 
 
 ' While ye are pleaf'd to keep me hale, 
 
 * I'll fit down o'er my fcanty meal, 
 ' Be't water-brofe, or muflm-kail, 
 
 ' Wi' chearfu' face, 
 
 * As lang's the Mufes dinna fail 
 
 * To fay the grace.' 
 
 An anxious e'e I never throws 
 Behint my lug, or by my nofe ; 
 I jouk beneath Misfortune's blows 
 
 As weel's I may ;
 
 ( 77 ) 
 Sworn foe X.oforrow^ care^ zxvA profe^ 
 
 I rhyme away. 
 
 O ye, doufe folk, that live by rule, 
 Grave, tidelefs-blooded, calm and cool, 
 Compar'd wi' you — O fool ! fool ! fool ! 
 
 How much unlike ! 
 Your hearts are juft a ftanding pool, 
 
 Your lives, a dyke ! 
 
 Nae hare-brain'd, fentimental traces. 
 In your unletter'd, namelefs faces ! 
 In ariofo trills and graces 
 
 Ye never ftray. 
 But grav'iffimo^ folemn bafles 
 
 Ye hum away. 
 
 Ye are fae grave^ nae doubt ye're wife ; 
 Nae ferly tho' ye do defpife 
 The hairum-fcairum, ram-ftam boys, 
 
 The rambling fquad : 
 I fee ye upward cafl: your eyes — 
 
 — Ye ken the road —
 
 ' 78 ) 
 
 Whilft I — but I fhall haud me there- 
 Wi' you I'll fcarce gang ony where — 
 Then yamie^ I Ihall fay nae mair. 
 
 But quat my fang, 
 Content with YOU to mak 3. pair ^ 
 
 Whare'er I gang. 

 
 ( 79 ) 
 
 
 A DREAM. 
 
 Thoughts, "iSJords and deeds, the Statute blames 
 
 isoith reafou ; 
 Butfurely Dreams were ne'er in dialed T re afo?i. 
 
 ON READING, IN THE PUBLIC PAPERS, THE 
 LAUREATE'S ODE, WITH THE OTHER PARADE 
 OF JUNE 4th, 1786, THEAUTHORWASNOS O O N- 
 ER DROPT ASLEEP, THAN HE IMAGINED HIM- 
 SELF TRANSPORTED TO THE BIRTH-DAY LE- 
 VEE; AND, IN HIS DREAMING FANCY, MADE 
 THE FOLLOWING ADDRESS. 
 
 I. 
 
 GUID-MORNIN to your MAJESTY ! 
 May heaven augment your blifles, 
 On ev'ry new Birth- day ye fee, 
 A humble Bardie wifhes !
 
 ( 8o ) 
 
 My Bardlhip here, at your Levee, 
 
 On fic a day as this is. 
 Is fure an uncouth fight to fee, 
 
 Amang thae Birth-day dreffes 
 
 Sae fine this day. 
 
 II. 
 
 I fee ye're complimented thrang, 
 
 By many a lord an' lady ; . <• 
 
 " God fave the King" 's a cukoo fang 
 
 That's unco eafy faid ay : 
 The Poets too, a venal gang, 
 
 Wi' rhymes weel-turn'd an' ready. 
 Wad gar you trow ye ne'er do wrang. 
 
 But ay unerring fteady. 
 
 On fic a day. 
 
 III. 
 
 For me ! before a Monarch's face, 
 Ev'n there I winna flatter ; 
 
 For neither Penfion, Poft, nor Place, 
 Am I your humble debtor :
 
 ( 8i ) 
 
 So, nae refledion on YOUR GRACE, 
 
 Your KIngfhip to befpatter ; 
 There's monle isoaur been o' the Race, 
 
 And aibUns ane been better 
 
 Than You this day. 
 
 IV. 
 
 'Tis very true, my fovereign King, 
 
 My fkill may weel be doubted ; 
 But Fa£ts are cheels that winna ding, 
 
 An' downa be difputed : 
 Your royal nejl^ beneath Your wing. 
 
 Is e'en right reft an' clouted. 
 And now the third part o' the firing. 
 
 An' lefs, will gang about it 
 
 Than did ae day. 
 
 V. 
 
 Far be't frae me that I afpire 
 
 To blame your Legiflation, 
 
 Or fay, ye wifdom want, or fire, 
 
 To rule this mighty nation ; 
 
 K
 
 ( 82 ) 
 
 But faith! I muckle doubt, my SIRE, 
 
 Ye've trufted 'Miniftration, 
 To chaps, wha, in a barn or byre^ 
 
 Wad better fiU'd their ftation 
 
 Than courts yon day. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And now Ye've gien auld Britain peace, 
 
 Her broken fhins to plaifter ; 
 Your fair taxation does her fleece. 
 
 Till fhe has fcarce a tefter : 
 For me, thank God, my life's a leafe^ 
 
 Nae bargain wearing fafter. 
 Or faith ! I fear, that, wi' the geefe, 
 
 I fhortly booft to pafture 
 
 r the craft fome day. 
 
 VII. 
 
 I'm no miftrufting Willie Pit^ 
 
 When taxes he enlarges, 
 (An' WilPs a true guid fallow's get, 
 
 A Name not Envy fpairges) 
 That he intends to pay your debt^ 
 
 An' leflen a' your charges ;
 
 { 83 ) 
 
 But, G — d-fake ! let n^it faving-Jit 
 Abridge your bonie Barges 
 
 An' Boats this day. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Adieu, my LIEGE! may Freedom geek 
 
 Beneath your high protection ; 
 An' may Ye rax Corruption's neck. 
 
 And gie her for diffecftion ! 
 But fmce I'm here, I'll no negledt, 
 
 In loyal, true affection. 
 To pay your QUE EN, with due refpect. 
 
 My fealty an' fubjection 
 
 This great Birth-day. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Hail, Majejly rnoji Excelle7it 1 
 While Nobles ftrive to pleafe Ye, 
 
 Will Ye accept a Compliment, 
 A fimple Bardie gies Ye ? 
 
 Thae bonie Bairntime, Heav'n has lent, 
 
 Still higher may they heeze Ye 
 
 K 2
 
 ( 84 ) 
 
 In blifs, till Fate fome day is fent, 
 For ever to releafe Ye 
 
 Frae Care that day. 
 
 X. 
 
 For you, young Potentate o' W — , 
 
 I tell your Highnefs fairly, 
 Down Pleafure's ftream, wi' fwelling fails, 
 
 I'm tauld ye're driving rarely ; 
 But fome day ye may gnaw your nails. 
 
 An' curfe your folly fairly. 
 That e'er ye brak Diana's pales ^ 
 
 Or rattl'd dice wi' Charlie 
 
 By night or day. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Yet aft a ragged Cowte's been known. 
 
 To mak a noble Aiver\ 
 So, ye may doufely fill a Throne, 
 
 For a' their clifh-ma-claver : 
 There, Him at Agincourt wha fhone. 
 
 Few better were or braver ;
 
 ( 85 ) 
 
 And yet, wi' funny, queer Sir * yohn^ 
 He was an unco fliaver 
 
 For monle a day. 
 
 XII. 
 For you, right rev'rend O , 
 
 Nane fets the lawn-Jleeve fweeter, 
 Altho' a ribban at your lug 
 
 Wad been a drefs compleater : 
 As ye difown )%n paughty dog, 
 
 That bears the Keys of Peter, 
 Then fwith ! an' get a wife to hug, 
 
 Or trouth ! ye'll ftain the Mitre 
 
 Some lucklefs day. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Young, royal TAR RY-B REEKS, I learn, 
 
 Ye've lately come athwart her; 
 A glorious f Galley^ ftem and ftern, 
 
 Weel rigg'd for Venus barter ; 
 But firft hang out that ihe'll difcern 
 
 Your hymeneal Charter^ 
 
 * Sir John FalftafF, Vide Shakefpeare. 
 
 \ Alluding to the Newfpaper account of a certain royal 
 Sailor's Amour.
 
 ( 86 ) 
 
 Then heave aboard your grappU airn^ 
 An', large upon her quarter^ 
 
 Come full that day. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Ye laftly, bonie bloffoms a', ^ 
 
 Ye royal Lajfes dainty, 
 Heav'n mak you guid as weel as braw, 
 
 An' gie you lads a plenty : 
 But fneer ng. BritiJJj-boys awa ; 
 
 For King's are unco fcant ay. 
 An' German-Gentles are huifma\ 
 
 They're better juft than wa?it ay 
 
 On onie day. 
 
 XV. 
 
 God blefs you a' ! confider now, 
 
 Ye're unco muckle dautet ; 
 But ere the coiirfe o' life be through, 
 
 It may be bitter fautet : 
 An' I hae feen their coggle fou. 
 
 That yet hae tarrow't at it. 
 But or the day was done, I trow, 
 
 The laggen they hae clautet 
 
 Fu' clean that day.
 
 ( 87 ) 
 
 
 THE VISION. 
 
 D U A N FIRST. 
 
 THE fun had clof 'd the winter-day, 
 The Curlers quat their roaring play, 
 And hunger'd Maukin taen her way 
 
 To kail-yards green, 
 While faithlefs fnaws ilk ftep betray 
 
 Whare fhe has been. 
 
 The Threfher's wedivy Jlingm-tree, 
 The lee-lang day had tir'd me ; 
 
 * Duan, a term of Oflian's for the different divifions of a 
 digreflive Poem. See his Cath-Loda, Vol. 2. of M'Pherfon's 
 Tranflation.
 
 ( 88 ,) 
 
 And when the Day had clof 'd his e'e, 
 
 Far i' the Weft, 
 
 Ben i' the Spence^ right penfiveHe, 
 
 I gaed to reft. 
 
 There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek, 
 I fat and ey'd the Ipewing reek, 
 That fill'd, wi' hoaft-provoking fmeek. 
 
 The auld, clay biggin ; 
 And heard the reftlefs rattons fqueak 
 
 About the riggin. 
 
 All in this mottie, mifty clime, 
 I backward muf M on wafted time. 
 How I had fpent xvij youthfii* prime ^ 
 
 An* done nae-thing, 
 But ftringing blethers up in rhyme 
 
 For fools to fmg. 
 
 Had I to guid advice but harket, 
 I might, by this, hae led a market. 
 Or ftrutted in a Bank and clarket 
 
 My CaJJj-Account ;
 
 ( 89 ) 
 
 While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-farket, 
 
 Is a' th' amount. 
 
 I ftarted, mutt'ring blockhead ! coof ! 
 And heav'd on high my wauket loof. 
 To fwear by a' yon ftarry roof. 
 
 Or fome rafh aith. 
 That I, henceforth, would be rhyme-proof 
 
 Till my laft breath — 
 
 When click ! xhtfring the ffiick did draw ; 
 And jee ! the door gaed to the wa' ; 
 And by my ingle-lowe I faw. 
 
 Now bleezan bright, 
 A tight, outlandifh ///jsz/V, braw. 
 
 Come full in fight. 
 
 Ye need na doubt, I held my whifht ; 
 
 The infant aith, half-form'd, was crulht ; 
 
 I glowr'd as eerie's I'd been dufht, 
 
 In fome wild glen ; 
 
 When fweet, like modcjl Worthy (lie blufht. 
 
 And ftepped ben. 
 L
 
 ■ ( 90 ) 
 
 Green, flender, leaf-clad Holly-boughs 
 Were twilled, gracefii', round her brows, 
 I took her for fome SCOTTISH MUSE, 
 
 By that fame token ; 
 And come to ftop thofe recklefs vows. 
 
 Would foon been broken, 
 
 A " hare-brain'd, fentimental trace" 
 Was ftrongly marked in her face ; 
 A wildly-witty, ruftic grace 
 
 Shone full upon her; 
 Her <?j'<f, ev'n turn'd on empty fpace, 
 
 Beam'd keen with Honor. 
 
 Down flowed her robe, a tartan (heen, 
 Till half a leg was fcrimply feen ; 
 And fuch a leg I my BESS, I ween. 
 
 Could only peer it ; 
 Sae ftraught, fae taper, tight and clean, 
 
 Nane elfe came near it. 
 
 Her Ma?ttle large, of greenilh hue, 
 My gazing wonder chiefly drew ;
 
 ( 91 ) 
 
 Deep lights 2inA fi a des^ bold-mingling, threw 
 
 A luftre grand ; 
 
 And feem'd, to my aftonifh'd view, 
 
 A ijaell-knoivn Land. 
 
 Here, rivers in the fea were loft ; 
 There, mountains to the fkies were toft : 
 Here, tumbling billows mark'd the coaft, 
 
 With furging foam ; 
 There, diftant ftione, Arls lofty boaft, 
 
 The lordly dome. 
 
 Here, DOON pour'd down his far-fetch'd 
 floods ; 
 There, well-fed IRWINE ftately thuds : 
 Auld, hermit AIRE ftaw thro' his woods, 
 
 On to the ihore ; 
 And many a lefler torrent feuds, 
 
 With feeming roar. 
 
 Low, in a fandy valley Ipread, 
 
 An ancient BOROUGH rear'd her head; 
 
 Still, as in Scotti/h Story read. 
 
 She boaft s a Racc^ 
 L 2
 
 ( 92 ) 
 
 To ev'ry nobler virtue bred, 
 
 And polifh'd grace. 
 
 DUAN SECOND. 
 
 With muiing-deep, aftonifh'd ftare, 
 I view'd the heavenly-feeming Fair ; 
 A whifp'ring throb did witnefs bear 
 
 Of kindred fweet, 
 When with an elder Sifter's air 
 
 She did me greet. 
 
 ' All hail ! my own infpired Bard ! 
 ' In me thy native Mufe regard ! 
 ' Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard, 
 
 , ' Thus poorly low ! 
 
 * I come to give thee fuch reward^ 
 
 ' As we beftow. 
 
 * Know, the great Genius of this Land, 
 ' Has many a light, aerial band, 
 ' Who, all beneath his high command, 
 
 ' Harmonioufly,
 
 ( 93 ) 
 
 ' As Arts or Arms they underftand, 
 
 ' Their labors ply. 
 
 ' They SCOTIA'S Race among them 
 {hare ; 
 ' Some fire the Sodger on to dare ; 
 ' Some roufe the Patriot up to bare 
 
 ' Corruption's heart : 
 ' Some teach the Bard^ a darling care, 
 
 ' The tuneful Art. 
 
 ' 'Mong fwelling floods of reeking gore, 
 ' They ardent, kindling fpirits pour ; 
 * Or, mid the venal Senate's roar, 
 
 ' They, fightlefs, ftand, 
 ' To mend the honeft Patriot-lore^ 
 
 ' And grace the hand. 
 
 ' Hence, FULLART ON, the brave and 
 young ; 
 ' Hence, DEMPSTER'^ truth-prevailing 
 
 tongue ; 
 ' Hence, fweet harmonious BKATTIK fung 
 
 ' His "Minflrcl lays;"
 
 ( 94 ) 
 
 ' Or tore, with noble ardour ftung, 
 
 ' The Sceptic's bays. 
 
 ' To lower Orders are affign'd, 
 ' The humbler ranks of Human-kind, 
 
 * The ruftic Bard, the lab'ring Hind, 
 
 * The Artifan ; 
 
 ' All chufe, as, various they're inclin'd, 
 
 ' The various man. 
 
 ' When yellow waves the heavy grain, 
 ' The threat'ning Storm^ fome, flrongly, rein 
 
 * Some teach to meliorate the plain, 
 
 ' With tillage-Jkill ', 
 ' And fome inftru(5l the Shepherd-train, 
 
 ' Blythe o'er the hill. 
 
 ' Some hint the Lover's harmlefs wile ; 
 ' Some grace the Maiden's artlefs fmile ; 
 ' Some foothe the Lab'rer's weary toil, 
 
 * For humble gains, 
 ' And make his cottage-fceftes beguile 
 
 ' His cares and pains.
 
 ( 95 ) 
 
 * Some, bounded to a diftri6l-fpace, 
 ' Explore at large Man's infant race^ 
 ' To mark the embryotic trace, 
 
 ' Of ruji'ic Bard', 
 ' And careful note each op'ning grace, 
 
 ' A guide and guard. 
 
 ' Of thefe am I — COILA my name; 
 ' And this diftricft as mine I claim, 
 ' Where once the Campbell's^ chiefs of fame, 
 
 ' Held ruling pow'r : 
 ' I mark'd thy embryo-tuneful flame, 
 
 ' Thy natal hour. 
 
 ' With future hope, I oft would gaze, 
 ' Fond, on thy little, early ways, 
 ' Thy rudely-caroird, chiming phrafe, 
 
 ' In uncouth rhymes, 
 ' Fir'd at the fimple, artlefs lays 
 
 ' Of other times. 
 
 ' I faw thee feek the founding fhorc, 
 ' Delighted with the daflnng roar ;
 
 ( 96 ) 
 
 ' Or when the 'North his fleecy ftore 
 
 ' Drove thro' the fky, 
 
 '' I faw grim Nature's vifage hoar, . 
 
 ' Struck thy young eye. 
 
 > ' Or when the deep-green-mantl'd Earth, 
 * Warm-cherifh'd ev'ry floweret's birth, 
 ' And joy and mufic pouring forth, 
 
 ' In ev'ry grove, 
 ' I faw thee eye the gen'ral mirth 
 
 ' With boundlefs love. 
 
 ' When ripen'd fields, and azure fl?:ies, 
 ' Call'd forth the Reaper's ruftling noife, 
 ' I faw thee leave their ev'ning joys, 
 
 ' And lonely ftalk, 
 ' To vent thy bofom's fwelling rife, 
 
 ' In penfive walk. 
 
 ' When youthful Love^ warm-blufliing, 
 ffcrong, 
 ' Keen-lhivering Ihot thy nerves along.
 
 (97 ) 
 
 ' Thofe accents, grateful to thy tongue, 
 
 ' Th' adored Name^ 
 
 ' I taught thee how to pour in fong, 
 
 ' To foothe thy flame. 
 
 ' I faw thy pulfe's maddening play, 
 ' Wild-fend thee Pleafure's devious way, 
 ' Mifled by Fancy's meteor-ray^ 
 
 ' By Paffion driven ; 
 ' But yet the light that led aftray, 
 
 ' Was light from Heaven. 
 
 ' I taught thy manners-painting ftrains, 
 ' The loves ^ the ijoays of fnnple fwains, 
 Till now, o'er all my wide domains, 
 
 ' Thy fame extends ; 
 ' And fome, the pride of Coihi's plains, 
 
 ' Become thy friends. 
 
 * Thou canft not learn, nor I can fhow, 
 
 ' To paint with IhomfoiPs landfcape-glow ; 
 
 ' Or wake the bofom-melting throe, 
 
 ' With She?iJ}o?i€'s art; 
 M
 
 ( 98 ) 
 
 * Or pour, with Gray^ the moving flow, 
 
 ' Warm on the heart. 
 
 ' Yet all beneath th'unrivall'd Rofe, 
 
 * The lowly Daify fweetly blows; 
 
 * Tho' large the foreft's Monarch throws 
 
 ' His army fhade, 
 
 * Yet green the juicy Hawthorn grows, 
 
 ' Adown the glade. 
 
 ' Then never murmur nor repine ; 
 ' Strive in thy humble fphere to fhine; 
 
 * And truft me, not Potofis mine^ 
 
 ' Nor Kings regard^ 
 ' Can give a blifs o'ermatching thine, 
 
 ' A nijlic Bard. 
 
 ' To give my counfels all in one, 
 ' Thy tune fid flame ftill careful fan ; 
 
 * Preferve the dignity of Man^ 
 
 ' With Soul erea ; 
 ' And truft, the UNIVERSAL PLAN 
 
 ' Will all protea.
 
 ( 99 ) 
 
 ' And wear thou this' — She folemn fald, 
 And bound the Holly round my head : 
 The polilli'd leaves, and berries red. 
 
 Did rufthng play; 
 And, like a paffing thought, Ihe fled. 
 
 In light away. 
 
 w
 
 THE following POEM will, by many Read- 
 ers, be well enough underftood ; but, for the fake 
 of thofe who are unacquainted with the manners 
 and traditions of the country where the fcene is 
 caft, Notes are added, to give fome account of 
 the principal Charms and Spells of that Night, 
 fo big with Prophecy to the Peafantry in the 
 Weft of Scotland. The paffion of prying into 
 Futurity makes a ftriking part of the hiftory of 
 Human-nature, in it's rude ftate, in all ages and 
 nations ; and it may be fome entertainment to a 
 philofophic mind, if any fuch fhould honor the 
 Author with a perufal, to fee the remains of it, 
 among the more unenlightened in our own.
 
 lOI 
 
 HALLOWEEN. * 
 
 Yes ! let the Rich deride^ the Proud difdaiti, 
 T he fimple pleafiires of the lowly train ; 
 To me more dear^ congenial to ?ny hearty 
 One native charm, tha?i all the glofs of art. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 I. 
 
 UPON that 7iight, when Fairies light, 
 On CaffiUs Doivnans \ dance, 
 Or owre the lays, in fplendid blaze. 
 On fprightly courfers prance ; 
 
 * Is thought to be a night when Witches, Devils, and o- 
 thcr mifchief-making beings, are all abroad on their baneful, 
 midnight errands : particularly, thofe aerial people, the Fairies, 
 are faid, on that night, to hold a grand Anniverfary. 
 
 I Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the ancient feat of the Earls of CafRlis.
 
 ( I02 ) 
 
 Or for Cohan ^ the rout is taen, 
 
 Beneath the moon's pale beams ; 
 There, up the Cove^ * to ftray an' rove, 
 . Amang the rocks an' ftreams 
 
 To fport that night. 
 
 11. 
 
 Amang the bonie, winding banks, 
 
 Where Doon rins, wimphn, clear. 
 Where BRUCE f ance rul'd the martial 
 ranks. 
 
 An' fhook his Carrick fpear, 
 Some merry, friendly, countra folks, 
 
 Together did convene. 
 To burn their nits, an' pou their ftocks. 
 
 An' baud their Halloween 
 
 Fu' blythe that night. 
 
 * A noted cavern near Colean-houfe, called the Cove of 
 Colean ; which, as well as Caffilis Downans, is famed, in coun- 
 try ftory, for being a favourite haunt of Fairies. 
 
 f The famous family of that name, the anceftors of RO- 
 BERT the great Deliverer of his country, were Earls of 
 Carrick.
 
 ( I03 ) 
 
 III. 
 
 The lafles feat, an' cleanly neat, 
 
 Mair braw than when they're fine ; 
 Their faces blythe, fu' fweetly kythe, 
 
 Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin' : 
 The lads fae trig, wi' wooer-babs, 
 
 Weel knotted on their garten. 
 Some unco blate, an' fome wi' gabs, 
 
 Gar lafTes hearts gang ftartin 
 
 Whyles faft at night. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Then, firft an' foremoft, thro' the kail, 
 Their Jlocks * maun a' be fought ance ; 
 
 * The firft ceremony of Halloween, is, pulling each a Stoch, 
 or plant of kail. They mufi: go out, hand in hand, with eyes 
 fhut, and pull the firft they meet with : its being big or little, 
 ftraight or crooked, is prophetic of the fize and fliape of the 
 grand objedt of all their Spells — the huft)and or wife. If any 
 yird^ or earth, ftick to the root, that is tocher, or fortune; and 
 the tafte of the cujloc, that is, the heart of the ftem, is indicative 
 of the natural temper and difpofition. Laftly, the ftems, or 
 to give them their ordinaiy appellation, the runts, are placed 
 fomewhere above the head of the door ; and the chriftian 
 names of the people whom chance brings into the houfe, are, 
 according to the priority of placing the runls^ the names in 
 queftion.
 
 ( I04 ) 
 
 They fteek their een, an' grape an' wale, 
 For muckle anes, an' ftraught anes. 
 
 Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift, 
 An' wander'd thro' the Bow-kail^ 
 
 An' pow't, for want o' better fhift, 
 A runt was like a fow-tail 
 
 Sae bow't that night. 
 
 V. 
 
 Then, ftraught or crooked, yird or nane. 
 
 They roar an' cry a' throw'ther ; 
 The vera 'wee-thmgs^ toddlan, rin, 
 
 Wi' ftocks out owre their fhouther : 
 An' gif the cujlock^s fweet or four, 
 
 Wi' jocftelegs they tafte them ; 
 Syne coziely, aboon the door, 
 
 Wi' cannie care, they've plac'd them 
 
 To lye that night. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The lalfes ftaw frae 'mang them a'. 
 To pou \)[\€vc Jlalks 6* corn ; * 
 
 * They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three feveral
 
 ( '05 ) 
 
 But Rub flips out, an' jinks about, 
 
 Behint the muckle thorn : 
 He grippet Nelly hard an' faft ; 
 
 Loud fkirl'd a' the lafles ; 
 But her tap-pickle maift was loll, 
 
 When kiutlan in the Faufe-houfe * 
 
 Wi' him that night. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The auld Guid wife's weel-hoordet nits \ 
 
 Are round an' round divided. 
 An' monie lads an' lafles fates 
 
 Are there that night decided : 
 
 N 
 
 times, a /talk of Oats. If the third ftalk. wants the top-pickle, 
 that is, the grain at the top of the ftalk, the party in queiUon 
 will want the Maidenhead. 
 
 * When the corn is in a doubtful ftate, by being too green, 
 or wet, the Stack-builder, by means of old timber, h'c. makes 
 a large apartment in his ftack, with an opening in the (ido 
 which is faireft expofed to the wind : this he calls a Faufe-houfe. 
 
 \ Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the 
 lad and lafs to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire ; 
 and according as they burn quietly together, or ftart from be- 
 fide one another, the courfe and iflue of the Courtfliip will be.
 
 ( io6 ) 
 
 Some kindle, couthie, fide by fide, 
 
 An' burn thegither trimly ; 
 Some ftart awa, wi' fancy pride, 
 
 An' jump out owre the chimlie 
 
 Fu' high that night. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 yean flips in twa, wi' tentie e'e ; 
 
 Wha 'twas, flie wadna tell ; 
 But this is yock^ an' this is me^ 
 
 She fays in to herfel : 
 He bleez'd owre her, an' fhe owre him, 
 
 As they wad never mair part, 
 Till fuff ! he ftarted up the lum, 
 
 An' Jean had e'en a fair heart 
 
 To fee't that night. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt^ 
 Was brimt wi' primfie MalUe ; 
 
 An' Mar)\ nae doubt, took the drunt, 
 To be compar'd to Willie :
 
 MalPs nit lap out, wi' pridefu' fling, 
 An' her ain fit, it brunt it ; 
 
 While Willie lap, an' fwoor hjjing, 
 'Twas juft the way he wanted 
 
 To be that night. 
 
 X. 
 
 AW/ had the Faufe-houfe in her min'. 
 
 She pits herfel an' Rob in ; 
 In loving bleeze they fweetly join, 
 
 Till white in afe they're fobbin : 
 NelPs heart was dancin at the view ; 
 
 She whifper'd Rob to leuk for't ; 
 Rob^ ftownlins, prie'd her bonie mou, 
 
 Fu' cozie in the neuk for't, 
 
 Unfeen that night. 
 
 XL 
 
 But Merran fat behint their backs. 
 Her thoughts on Andrew Bell-^ 
 She lea'es them gafhan at their cracks. 
 
 An' flips out by herfel : 
 
 N 2
 
 ( >°8 ) 
 
 She thro' the yard the neareft taks, 
 
 An' for the kiln fhe goes then, 
 An' dark] ins grapet for the banks ^ 
 
 And in the blue-due * throws then, 
 
 Right fear't that night. 
 
 XII. 
 
 An' ay fhe iiohit^ an' ay Ihe fwat, 
 
 1 wat fhe made nae jaukin ; 
 Till fomething held within the pat^ 
 
 Guid L — d ! but fhe was quaukin ! 
 But whether 'twas the Deil himfel, 
 
 Or whether 'twas a bauk-en\ 
 Or whether it was Andrei^ Bell^ 
 
 She did na wait on talkin 
 
 To fpier that night. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Wee yemiy to her Grannie fays, 
 * Will ye go wi' me Graunie ? 
 
 * Whoever would, with fuccefs, try this fpell muft ftiiftly 
 obfeive thefe dire<5tions. Steal out, all alone, to the kiln^ and, 
 darkling, throw into the^o/, a clew of blue yarn: wind it in 
 a new clew off the old one ; and towards the latter end, fome-
 
 ( I09 ) 
 
 ' I'll eat the apple * at the glajs^ 
 
 ' I gat frae uncle Johnie :' 
 She fuff't her pipe wi' fic a lunt, 
 
 In wrath ihe was fae vap'rin, 
 She notic't na, an aizle brunt 
 
 Her braw, new, worfet apron 
 
 Out thro' that night. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 ' Ye little Skelpie-limmer's-face ! 
 
 ' I daur you try fic fportin, 
 ' As leek xhcfoul Thief ovix^ place, 
 
 ' For him to fpae your fortune : 
 ' Nae doubt but ye may get ^ fight I 
 
 ' Great caufe ye hae to fear it ; 
 ' For monie a ane has gotten a fright, 
 
 ' An' liv'd an' di'd deleeret, 
 
 ' On fic a night. 
 
 thing will hold the thread : demand, luha hands ? i. c. who 
 holds ? and anfwer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by nam- 
 ing the chriflian and firname of your future Spoufe. 
 
 * Take a candle, and go, alone, to a looking glafs ; eat an 
 apple before it, and fome traditions Aiy you fhould comb your 
 hair all the time : the face of your conjugal companion, to be. 
 will be feen in the glafs, as if peeping over your fhouldcr.
 
 ( no ) 
 
 XV. 
 
 * Ae Hairft afore the Sherra-moor^ 
 
 ' I rfiind't as weel's yeftreen, 
 ' I was a gilpey then, I'm fure, 
 
 * I was na paft fyfteen : 
 ' The Simmer had been cauld an' wat, 
 
 ' An' Stuff was unco green ; 
 ' An' ay a rantan Kirn we gat, 
 
 ' An' juft on Halloween 
 
 ' It fell that night. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 ' Our Stibble-rig was Rab M''Graen^ 
 
 ' A clever, fturdy fallow ; 
 ' His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean, 
 
 ' That liv'd in Achmacalla : 
 ' He gat hemp-feed^ * I mind it weel, 
 
 ' An' he made unco light o't ; 
 
 * Steal out, unperceived, and fow a handful of hemp feed ; 
 harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after 
 you. Repeat, now and then, ' Hemp feed I faw thee, Hemp 
 ' feed I faw thee ; and him (or her) that is to be my true-love, 
 
 ♦ come after me and pou thee.' Look over your left fhoulder, 
 and you will fee the appearance of the pcrfon invoked, in the
 
 ( I" ) 
 
 ' But monie a day was by himfd^ 
 ' He was fae fairly frighted 
 
 * That vera night.' 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Then up gat fechtan yamie Fleck^ 
 
 An' he fwoor by his confcience, 
 That he could y^-i£^ hemp-feed a peck ; 
 
 For it was a' but nonfenfe : 
 The auld guidman raught down the pock, 
 
 An' out a handfu' gied him ; 
 Syne bad him flip frae 'mang the folk, 
 
 Sometime when nae ane fee'd him, 
 
 An' try't that night. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 He marches thro' amang the ftacks, 
 
 Tho' he was fomething fturtan; 
 
 The graip he for a harroiv taks. 
 An' haurls at his curpan : 
 
 attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions fay, * come after 
 * me and fhaw thee,' that is, fhow thyfelf ; in which cafe it 
 (imply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and fay, ' come 
 ' after me and harrow thee.'
 
 { "^ ) 
 
 And ev'ry now an' then, he fays, 
 
 ' Hemp-feed I faw thee, 
 * An' her that is to be my lafs, 
 
 ' Come after me an' draw thee 
 
 ' As faft this night.' 
 
 XIX. 
 
 He whiftl'd up lord Lenox* march^ 
 
 To keep his courage cheary ; 
 Altho' his hair began to arch, 
 
 He was fae fley'd an' eerie : 
 Till prefently h€ hears a fqueak, 
 
 An' then a grane an' gruntle ; 
 He by his fhowther gae a keek, 
 
 An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle 
 
 Out owre that night. 
 
 XX. 
 
 He roar'd a horrid murder-fbout, 
 
 In dreadfu' defperation ! 
 An' young an' auld come rinnan out, ' 
 
 An' hear the fad narration :
 
 ( "3 ) 
 
 He fwoor 'twas hilchan Jean M'Craw^ 
 
 Or crouchie M err an Hiimphie^ 
 Till flop ! fhe trotted thro' them a' ; 
 
 An' wha was it but Grumphie 
 
 Afteer that night ? 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Meg fain wad to the Barn gaen, 
 
 To isjinn three wechts o naetbing ; * 
 But for to meet the Deil her lane, 
 
 She pat but little faith in : 
 She gies the Herd a pickle nits, 
 
 An' twa red cheeket apples. 
 To watch, while for the Barn (he fets. 
 
 In hopes to fee 1am Kipples 
 
 That vera night. 
 O 
 
 * This charm mufl: likewife be performed, unperceived and 
 alone. You go to the barriy and open both doors ; taking 
 them off the hinges, if poffibic ; for there is danger, that the Be- 
 ing, about to appear, may fliut the doors, and do . you fome mif- 
 chief. Then take that infti-ument ufed in winnowing the corn, 
 which, in our country-dialeft, we call a ivecht ; and go thro' 
 all the attitudes of letting down corn againfl: the wind. Re- 
 peat it three times ; and the third time, an apparition will pafs 
 thro' the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, 
 having both the figure in queftion and the appearance or re- 
 tinue, marking the employment or ftation in life.
 
 ( iH ) 
 
 XXII. 
 
 She turns the key, wi' cannie thraw, 
 
 An' owre the threfhold ventures ; 
 But firft on Sawfiie gies a ca', 
 
 Syne bauldly in fhe enters : 
 A ration rattl'd up the wa', 
 
 An' Ihe cry'd, L — d preferve her ! 
 An' ran thro' midden-hole an' a', 
 
 An' pray'd wi' zeal and fervour, 
 
 Fu' faft that night. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 They hoy't out Will, wi' fair advice ; 
 
 They hecht him fome fine braw ane ; 
 It chanc'd the Stack \\.&faddom^t thrice^ 
 
 Was timmer-propt for thrawin : 
 He taks a fwirlie, auld mofs-oak^ 
 
 For fome black, groufome Carlin ; 
 
 * Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bear-Jlack, 
 and fathom it three times round. The laft fathom of the laft 
 time, you will catch in your arms, the appearance of your fu- 
 ture conjugal yoke-fellow. 
 
 *
 
 ( "5 ) ' 
 
 An' loot a winze, an' drew a ftroke, 
 Till fkin in blypes cam haurlin 
 
 Aff's nieves that night. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 A wanton widow Leczic was, 
 
 As cantie as a kittlen ; 
 But Och ! that night, amang the lliaws. 
 
 She gat a fearfu' fettlin ! 
 She thro' the whins, an' by the cairn. 
 
 An' owre the hill gaed fcrievin, 
 Whare three La'wds^ laii^s met at a bur?!^ * 
 
 To dip her left far k-Jle eve in. 
 
 Was bent that night. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, 
 As thro' the glen it wimpl't ; 
 
 O 2 
 
 * You go out, one or more, for this is a locial fpell, to a 
 fouth-running fpring or rivulet, where ' three Lairds' lands 
 ' meet,' and dip your left fhirt-fleeve. Go to bed in fight of 
 a fire, and hang your wet fleeve before it to dry. Ly awake ; 
 and fometime near midnight, an apparition, having the exad 
 figure of the grand objed in quelHon, will come and turn the 
 fleeve, as if to dry the other fide of it.
 
 ( 1.6 ) . 
 
 Whyles round a rocky fear it ftrays ; 
 
 Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't ; 
 Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays, 
 
 Wi' bickerin, dancin dazzle ; 
 Whyles cooket underneath the braes, 
 
 Below the fpreading hazle 
 
 Unfeen that night. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Amang the brachens, on the brae, 
 
 Between her an' the moon. 
 The Deil, or elfe an outler Quey, 
 
 Gat up an' gae a croon : 
 Poor Lee%ie^s heart maift lap the hool; 
 
 Near lav'rock-height fhe jumpet, 
 But mift a fit, an' in ih^ pool^ 
 
 Out owre the lugs ilie plumpet, 
 
 Wi' a plunge that night. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 In order, on the clean hearth-ftane. 
 The Luggies * three are ranged ; 
 
 * Take three difhes ; put clean water in one, foul water in
 
 ( iiy ) 
 
 And ev'ry time great care is taen, 
 
 To fee them duely changed : 
 Auld, uncle yohti^ wha wedlock's joys^ 
 
 Sin' Mar's-year did defire, 
 Becaufe he gat the toom difh thrice, 
 
 He heav'd them on the fire, 
 
 In wrath that night. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Wi' merry fangs, an' friendly cracks, 
 
 I wat they did na weary ; 
 And unco tales, an' funnie jokes. 
 
 Their fports were cheap an' cheary : 
 Till buttered So' ?is^ * wi' fragrant lunt. 
 
 Set a' their gabs a fteerin ; 
 Syne, wi' a fecial glafs o' ftrunt, 
 
 They parted aff careerin 
 
 Fu' blythe that night. 
 
 another, and leave the third empty : blindfold a perfon, and 
 lead him to the hearth where the dilhes are ranged; he (or fhe) 
 dips the left hand : if by chance in the clean water, the future 
 hufband or wife will come to the bar of Matrimony, a Maid ; 
 if in the foul, a widow ; if in the empty difh, it foretells, with 
 equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three 
 times ; and every time the anangcment of the diflies is al- 
 tered. 
 
 * Sowens, with butler inllcad of milk to them, is always the 
 Halloiveen Supper.
 
 ( I'S ) 
 
 
 THE AULD FARMER'S NEW-YEAR- 
 MORNING SALUTATION TO HIS 
 AULD MARE, MAGGIE, ON GIV- 
 ING HER THE ACCUSTOMED RIPP 
 OF CORN TO HANSEL INTHE NEW- 
 YEAR. 
 
 AGuid New-year I wifh you Maggie ! 
 Hae, there's a ripp to thy aiild baggie: 
 Tho' thou's howe-backet, now, an' knaggie, 
 
 I've feen the day, 
 Thou could hae gaen hke ony ftaggie 
 
 Out owre the lay. 
 
 Tho' now thou's dowie, ftifF an' crazy. 
 An' thy auld hide as white's a daifie,
 
 ( 119 ) 
 
 I've feen thee dappl't, lleek an' glaizie, 
 
 A bonie gray : 
 He fhould been tight that daur't to rai^e thee, 
 
 Ance in a day. 
 
 Thou ance was i' the foremoft rank, 
 hjilly buirdly, fteeve an' fwank. 
 An' fet weel down a fhapely fhank. 
 
 As e'er tread yird ; 
 An' could hae flown out owre a ftank. 
 
 Like onie bird. 
 
 It's now fome nine-an'-twenty-year. 
 Sin' thou was my Guidfather's Meere ; 
 He gied me thee, o' tocher clear. 
 
 An' fifty mark ; 
 Tho' it was fma', 'twas weel-wofi gear. 
 
 An' thou was ftark. 
 
 When firft I gaed to woo my yenny^ 
 Ye then was trottan wi' your Minnie : 
 Tho' ye was trickie, flee an' funnie. 
 
 Ye ne'er was donfie ;
 
 ( I20 ) 
 
 But hamely, tawie, quiet an' cannie, 
 
 An' unco fonfie. 
 
 That day^ ye pranc'd wi' muckle pride, 
 When ye bure hame my bonle Bride : 
 An' fweet an' gracefu' Ihe did ride 
 
 Wi' maiden air ! 
 KYLE-STEWART I could bragged wide, 
 
 For fic a pair. 
 
 Tho' now ye dow but hoyte and hoble. 
 An' wintle like a faumont-coble. 
 That day^ ye was a jinker noble. 
 
 For heels an' win' ! 
 An' ran them till they a' did wauble, 
 
 Far, far behin' ! . 
 
 When thou an' I were young an' fkiegh. 
 An' Stable-meals at Fairs were driegh, ^ 
 
 How thou wad prance, an' fnore, an fcriegh, 
 
 An' tak the road ! 
 Towns-bodies ran, an' ftood abiegh. 
 
 An' ca't thee mad.
 
 ( lil ) 
 
 When thou was corn't, an' I was mellow, 
 We took the road ay like a Swallow : 
 At Broofes thou had ne'er a fellow, 
 
 For pith an' fpeed ; 
 But ev'ry tail thou pay't them hollow, 
 
 Whare'er thou gaed. 
 
 The fma', droot-rumpl't, hunter cattle, 
 Might aiblins waur't thee for a brattle J 
 Buty^^ Scotch mile^ thou try't their mettle, 
 
 An' gart them whaizle: 
 Nae whip nor fpur, but just a wattle 
 
 O' faugh or hazle. 
 
 Thou was a noble Fittie-la7i\ 
 As e'er in tug or tow was drawn ! 
 Aft thee an' I^ in aught hours gaun. 
 
 On guid March-weather, 
 Hae turn'dy2?^ rood befide our han'. 
 
 For days thegither. 
 
 « 
 
 Thou never braing't, an' fetch't, an' flifket. 
 
 But thy auld tail thou wad hae whifket, 
 
 P
 
 ( 122 ) 
 
 An' Ipread abreed thy weel-fill'd brijket^ 
 
 Wi' pith an' pow'r, 
 
 Till fprittie knowes wad rair't an' rifket, 
 
 An' flypet owre. 
 
 When frofts lay lang, an' fnaws were deep, 
 An' threaten'd labor back to keep, 
 I gied thy cog a wee-bit heap 
 
 Aboon the timmer; 
 I ken'd my Maggie wad na fleep 
 
 For that, or Simmer. 
 
 In cart or car thou never reeftet ; 
 The fteyeft brae thou wad hae fac't it ; 
 Thou never lap, an' ften't, an' breaftet, 
 
 Then ftood to blaw ; 
 But juft thy ftep a wee thing haftet, 
 
 Thou fnoov't awa. 
 
 My Pleugh is now thy bair?i-time a' ; 
 Four gallant brutes, as e'er did draw ; 
 Forby fax mae, I've fell't awa, 
 
 That thou haft nurft : 
 
 N
 
 ( 123 ) 
 
 They drew me thretteen pund an' twa, 
 
 The vera warft. 
 
 Monie a fair daurk we twa hae wrought, 
 An' wi' the weary war!' fought ! 
 An' monie an' anxious day^ I thought 
 
 We wad be beat ! 
 Yet here to cra-zy Age we're brought, 
 
 Wi' fomething yet. 
 
 An' think na, my auld, trufty Servan\ 
 That now perhaps thou's lefs defervin, 
 An' thy auld days may end in ftarvin', 
 
 For my hift fow, 
 A heapet St'tmpart^ I'll referve ane 
 
 Laid by for you. 
 
 We've worn to crazy years thegither ; 
 We'll toyte about wi' ane anither ; 
 Wi' tentie care I'll flit thy tether, 
 
 To fome hain'd rig, 
 Whare ye may nobly rax your leather, 
 
 Wi' fma' fatigue. 
 
 P 2
 
 ( 124 ) 
 
 THE 
 
 COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO R. A**** Efq; 
 
 Let not Ambition mock their iifefiil toll^ 
 Their homely joys ^ and dejihiy obfciire ; 
 
 Nor Grandeur hear, with a difdalnfidfmlle. 
 The Jhort andfimple annals of the Poor. 
 
 Gray. 
 I. 
 
 MY lov'd, my honor'd, much refpe6led 
 friend, 
 No mercenary Bard his homage pays ; 
 With honeft pride, I fcorn each felfifh end. 
 My deareft meed, a friend's efteem and 
 praife :
 
 ( -25 ) 
 
 To you I fing, in fimple Scottlfh lays, 
 
 The loudly train in life's fequefter'd fcene ; 
 
 The native feelings fbrong, the guilelefs ways, 
 What A**** in a Cottage would have been ; 
 
 Ah ! tho' his worth unknown, far happier 
 there I ween ! 
 
 II. 
 
 November chill blaws loud wi' angry fugh ; 
 
 The fhort'ning winter-day is near a clofe ; 
 The miry beafts retreating frae the pleugh ; 
 
 The black'ning trains o' craws to their 
 repofe : 
 The toil-worn COTTER frae his labor goes, 
 
 This night his weekly moil is at an end, 
 Collects hi^fpades^ his mattocks and his hoes^ 
 
 Hoping the morn in eafe and reft to fpend. 
 And weary, o'er the moor, his courfe does 
 hameward bend. 
 
 III. 
 
 At length his lonely Cot appears in view. 
 Beneath the fhelter of an aged tree ;
 
 ( >26 ) 
 
 The expedlant wee-things^ toddlan, ftacher 
 through 
 To meet their Dad^ wi' flichterin noife 
 and glee. 
 His wee-hit ingle, bhnkan bonilie, 
 
 His clean hearth-ftane, his thrifty Wifie'^s 
 fmile, 
 The lifping infant^ prattling on his knee, 
 
 Does a' his weary k'laugh and care beguile. 
 And makes him quite forget his labor and 
 his toil. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Belyve, the elder bair?is come drapping in, 
 At Service out, amang the Farmers roun' ; 
 
 Some ca' the pleugh, fome herd, fome tentie 
 rin 
 A cannie errand to a neebor town : 
 
 Their eldeft hope, their Jenny^ woman-grown. 
 
 In youthfu* bloom, Love fparkling in her 
 
 e'e. 
 Comes hame, perhaps, to fhew a braw new 
 
 gown.
 
 ( 127 ) 
 
 Or depofite her fair-won penny-fee, 
 To help her Parents dear, if they in hard- 
 fhip be. 
 
 V. 
 
 With joy unfeign'd, brothers znAJi/iers meet, 
 
 And each for other's weelfare kindly fpiers : 
 The focial hours, fwift-wing'd, unnotic'd 
 fleet ; 
 
 Each tells the uncos that he fees or hears. 
 The Parents partial eye their hopeful years ; 
 
 Anticipation forward points the view ; 
 The Mother^ wi' her needle and her fheers. 
 
 Gars auld claes look amaift as weePs the 
 new; 
 The Father mixes a' wi' admonition due. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Their Mafter's and their Miftrefs's command. 
 The youngkers a' are warned to obey ; 
 
 And mind their labors wi' an eydent hand, 
 And ne'er, tho' out o' fight, to jauk or play :
 
 ( 128 ) 
 
 * And O! be fure to fear the LORD al- 
 way ! 
 ' And mind your duty^ duely, morn and 
 night ! 
 ' Left in temptation's path ye gang aftray, 
 •■ Implore his coiinfel and affifting might: 
 ' They never fought in vain that fought the 
 LORD aright.' 
 
 VII. 
 
 But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ; 
 
 yejitiy^ wha kens the meaning o' the fame, 
 Tells how a neebor lad came o'er the moor, 
 
 To do fome errands, and convoy her hame. 
 The wily Mother fees the confcious Jlame 
 
 Sparkle in yeiinfs e'e, and flufli her cheek, 
 "With heart-ftruck, anxious care enquires 
 his name, 
 
 While yenjiy hafflins is afraid to fpeak ; 
 Weel-pleaf'd the Mother hears, it's nae wild, 
 worthlefs Rake.
 
 ( 129 ) 
 
 VIII. 
 
 With kindly welcome, Jentiy brings him ben ; 
 KJirappan youth\ he takes the Mother's eye; 
 Blythe Jenjiy fees the vififs no ill taen ; 
 
 The Father cracks of horfes, pleughs 
 and kye. 
 The Youngjler^s artlefs heart o'erflows wi' joy, 
 But blate and laithfu', fcarce can weel 
 behave ; 
 The Mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can fpy 
 What makes the youth fae bafhfu' and 
 fae grave ; 
 Weel-pleaf'd to think her bairn'^s refpecfted 
 like the lave. 
 
 IX. 
 
 O happy love ! where love like this is found ! 
 O heart-felt raptures! blifs beyond com- 
 pare ! 
 I've paced much this weary, mortal rounds 
 Andfage EXPERIENCE bids me this 
 declare —
 
 (.130 ) 
 
 ' If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleafure 
 fpare, 
 ' One cordial in this melancholy Vale^ 
 ' 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modejl Pair, 
 ' In other's arms, breathe out the tender 
 tale, 
 * Beneath the milk-white thorn that fcents 
 the ev'ning gale/ 
 
 X. 
 
 Is there, in human form, that bears a heart — 
 A Wretch ! a Villain ! loft to love and truth ! 
 That can, with ftudied, fly, enfnaring art, 
 
 Betray fweet Jenny's unfufpecfting youth ? 
 Curfe on his perjur'd arts ! difl^embling 
 fmooth ! 
 Are Honor ^ Virtue^ Cofifcience^ all exil'd ? 
 Is there no Pity, no relenting Ruth, 
 
 Points to the Parents fondling o'er their 
 Child ? 
 Then paints the ruined Ma'id^ and their dif- 
 traction wild !
 
 ( 131 ) 
 
 XL 
 
 But now the Supper crowns their fnnple 
 board, 
 The healfome P or r itch, chief of SCO- 
 TIA'S food: 
 The foupe their only Haijokie does afford, 
 That 'yont the hallan fnugly chows her 
 cood : 
 The Dame brings forth, in compUmental 
 mood, 
 To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd keb- 
 buck, fell. 
 And aft he's preft, and aft he ca's it guid ; 
 
 The frugal Wijie, garrulous, will tell, 
 How 'twas a towmond auld, fin' Lint was 
 i' the bell. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The chearfu' Supper done, wi' ferious face, 
 They, round the ingle, form a circle wide ; 
 
 The Sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace. 
 The big h a' -Bible, ance his Father* s pride ; 
 
 CL2,
 
 { 132 ) 
 
 His' bonnet rev'rently is laid afide, 
 
 His lyart haffets wearing thin and bare ; 
 Thofe ftrains that once did fweet in ZION 
 glide, 
 He wales a portion with judicious care ; 
 ' Ajid let us ivor/Jjip GOD !' he fays with 
 folemn air. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 They chant their artlefs notes in fimple guife ! 
 
 They tune their hearts^ by far the no- 
 bleft aim : 
 Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling meafure's rife, 
 
 Or plaintive Martyrs^ worthy of the name ; 
 Or noble Elgin beets the heaven-ward flame. 
 
 The fweeteft far of SCOTIA'S holy lays: 
 Compared with thefe, Italian trills are tame ; 
 
 The tickl'd ears no heart-felt raptures raife ; 
 Nae unifon hae they, with our CREA- 
 TOR'S praife.
 
 { ^33 ) 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The prieft-like Father reads the facred page, 
 
 How Abram was the Friend of GOD 
 on high ; 
 Or, Mofes bade eternal warfare wage, 
 
 With AmaleJ^s ungracious progeny ; 
 Or how the royal Bard did groaning lye. 
 
 Beneath the ftroke of Heaven's avenging 
 ire; 
 Or 'Job'^s pathetic plaint, and wailing cry ; 
 
 Or rapt IfaiaFs wild, feraphic fire ; 
 Or other Holy Seers that tune the facred lyre. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Perhaps the Chrijlian Volume is the theme. 
 
 How guilt lefs blood for guilty man was fhed; 
 How H E who bore in . heaven the fecond 
 name. 
 Had not on Earth whereon to lay His head,: 
 How His 'tvc^follovocrs SiWiXfervants fpcd ; 
 The Precepts /age they wrote to many a 
 land :
 
 { 134 ) 
 
 How he^ who lone in Patmos banifhed, 
 
 Saw in the fun a mighty angel ftand ; 
 And heard great BabHon^s doom pronounc'd 
 by Heaven's command. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Then kneeling down to HEAVEN'S E- 
 TERNAL KING, 
 The Saint ^ the Father^ and the Hujhand 
 prays : 
 Hope * fprings exulting on triumphant 
 wing,' * 
 That thus they all fhall meet in future days: 
 There, ever bafk in uncreated rays^ 
 
 No more to figh, or fhed the bitter tear, 
 Together hymning their CREATOR'S praife^ 
 
 In fuchfociety, yet ftill more dear; 
 While circling Time moves round in an e- 
 ternal fphere. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Compar'd with this^ how poor Religion's pride. 
 In all the pomp of method, and of art^ 
 
 * Pope's Windfor Forefl.
 
 ( 135 ) 
 
 When men difplay to congregations wide, 
 
 Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart ! 
 The POWER, incenf'd, the Pageant will 
 defert, 
 The pompous ftrain, the facredotal ftole ; 
 But haply, in fome Cottage far apart. 
 
 May hear, well pleaf'd, the language of 
 the Soul ; 
 And in His Book of Life the Inmates poor 
 enroll. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Then homeward all take off their fev'ral 
 way ; 
 The youngling Cottagers retire to reft-: 
 The Parent-pair xhtirfecret homage pay. 
 And proffer up to Heaven the warm re- 
 queft. 
 That HE who ftills the rave?i*s clam'rous 
 neft, 
 And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride.
 
 ( 136 ) 
 
 Would, in the way His Wifdom fees the beft, 
 For them and for their little ones provide; 
 But chiefly, in their hearts with Grace di- 
 v'me prefide. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 From fcenes Hke thefe, old SCOTIA'S 
 grandeur fprings, 
 
 That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd a- 
 broad : 
 Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, 
 
 ' An honeft man's the noble work of GOD:' 
 And certes^ in fair Virtue's heavenly road, 
 
 The Cottage leaves the Palace far behind : 
 What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, 
 
 Difguifmg oft the wretch of human kind. 
 Studied in arts of Hell, in wickednefs refin'd ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 O SCOTIA ! my dear, my native foil ! 
 For whom my warmeft wifh to heaven 
 is fent !
 
 (^37) 
 
 Long may thy hardy fons of rujlic toil^ 
 
 Be bleft with health, and peace, and fweet 
 content ! 
 And O may Heaven their fimple Hves prevent 
 
 From Liixiirfs contagion, weak and vile ! 
 Then howe'er crowfts and coronets be rent, 
 A virtuous Populace may rife the while, 
 And ftand a wall of fire around their much- 
 lov'd ISLE. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 O THOU ! who pour'd the patriotic tide. 
 
 That ftream'd thro' great, unhappy WAL- 
 LACE' heart ; 
 Who dar'd to, nobly, ftem tyrannic pride, 
 
 Or nobly die, the fecond glorious part : 
 (The Patriot's GOD, peculiarly thou art, 
 
 YW& friend, infpirer, guardian and reward !) 
 O never, never SCOTIA'S realm defert. 
 
 But ftill the Patriot, and the Patriot-Bard, 
 
 In bright fucceflion raifc, her Ornament and 
 
 Guard ! 
 
 R
 
 ( 138 ) 
 
 ^ -j^ 4--^ ^ -1^ *»?-^ -^ -^ '•^-^ *^ -^ •*■ -^ -^l-^ 
 
 T O 
 
 A MOUSE, 
 
 On turning her up in her Nejl^ with the Plough^ 
 November^ 1785. 
 
 WEE, fleeket, cowran, tim'rous beajiie^ 
 O, what a panic's in thy breaftie-! 
 Thou need na ftart awa fae hafty, 
 
 Wi' bickering brattle ! 
 I wad be laith to rin an' chafe thee, 
 
 Wi' murd'ring pattle I 
 
 I'm truly forry Man's dominion 
 Has broken Nature's focial union, 
 An' juftifies that ill opinion, 
 
 Which makes thee ftartle,
 
 ( 139 ) 
 
 At me, thy poor, earth-born companion. 
 
 An' fellow-mortal I 
 
 I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve ; 
 What then ? poor beaftie, thou maun Uve ! 
 A daimefi-icker in a thrave 
 
 'S a fma' requeft : 
 I'll get a bleflin wi' the lave. 
 
 An' never mifs't ! 
 
 Thy wee-bit hoiifie^ too, in ruin ! 
 It's filly wa's the win's are ftrewin ! 
 An' naething, now, to big a new ane, 
 
 O' foggage green ! 
 An' bleak December* s w'mds enfuin, 
 
 Baith fnell an' keen ! 
 
 Thou faw the fields laid bare an' waft, 
 
 An' weary Winter comin faft, 
 
 An' cozie here, beneath the blaft. 
 
 Thou thought to dwell. 
 
 Till crafh ! the cruel coulter paft 
 
 Out thro' thy cell. 
 R 2
 
 ( HO ) 
 
 That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' ftibble, 
 Has coft thee monie a weary nibble ! 
 Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble, 
 
 But houfe or hald. 
 To thole the ^^mitx'sjleety dribble^ 
 
 An' cranreuch cauld ! 
 
 But Moufie, thou art no thy-lane. 
 In ^roYm^ for efig lot may be vain : 
 The beft laid fchemes o' Mice an' Men^ 
 
 Gang aft agley. 
 An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain, 
 
 For promif'd joy ! 
 
 Still, thou art bleft, compar'd wi' me ! 
 The prefejit only toucheth thee : 
 But Och ! I backward caft my e'e, 
 
 On profpecfls drear ! 
 AyC forward^ tho' I canna^^^, 
 
 I gtiefs an' fear !
 
 { 14' ) 
 
 EPISTLE TO DAVIE, 
 
 A 
 
 BROTHER POET. 
 
 w 
 
 yanuary 
 
 I. 
 
 HILE winds frae off BEN-LO- 
 MOND blaw, 
 And bar the doors wl' driving fnaw, 
 
 And hing us owre the ingle, 
 I fet me down, to pafs the time, 
 And fpin a verfe or twa o' rhyme. 
 In hamely, wejllin jingle.
 
 ( 142 ) 
 
 While frofty winds blaw in the drift, 
 
 Ben to the chimla lug, 
 I grudge a wee the Great-folk's gift, 
 That live fae bien an' fnug : 
 I tent lefs, and want lefs 
 Their roomy fire-fide ; 
 But hanker, and canker. 
 To fee their curfed pride. 
 
 II. 
 
 It's hardly in a body's pow'r. 
 
 To keep, at times, frae being four. 
 
 To fee how things are fhar'd ; 
 How beji o' chiels are whyles in want, 
 While Coofs on countlefs thoufands rant, 
 
 And ken na how to wair't : 
 But DAVIE lad, ne'er fafh your head, 
 
 Tho' we hae little gear. 
 We're fit to win our daily bread. 
 
 As lang's we're hale and fier : ' 
 ' Mair fpier na, nor fear na,' * 
 Auld age ne'er mind a feg ; 
 
 * Ramfay.
 
 ( 143 ) 
 
 The laft o't, the warft o't, 
 Is only but to beg. 
 
 III. 
 
 To lye in kilns and barns at e'en, 
 When banes are craz'd, and bluid is thin, 
 
 Is, doubtlefs, great diftrefs ! 
 Yet then co?ite?it could make us bleft ; 
 Ev'n then, fometimes we'd fnatch a tafte 
 
 Of trueft happinefs. 
 The honeft heart that's free frae a' 
 
 Intended fraud or guile, 
 However Fortune kick the ba'. 
 Has ay fome caufe to fmile : 
 And mind ftill, you'll find ftill, 
 
 A comfort this nae fma' ; 
 Nae mair then, we'll care then, 
 ^2it farther we cany^'. 
 
 IV. 
 
 What tho', like Commoners of air, 
 We wander out, we know not where. 
 But either houfc or hal' ?
 
 ( H4 ) 
 
 Yet Naturis charms, the hills and woods, 
 The fweeping vales, and foaming floods. 
 
 Are free alike to all. 
 In days when Daifies deck the ground, 
 
 And Blackbirds whiftle clear. 
 With honeft joy, our hearts will bound. 
 To fee the coming year : 
 
 On braes when we pleafe then. 
 
 We'll fit dM^fowth a tune ; 
 Syne rhyme till't, well time till't. 
 And fmg't when we hae done. 
 
 V. 
 
 It's no in titles nor in rank ; 
 
 It's no in wealth like London Bank^ 
 
 To purchafe peace and reft ; 
 It's no in makin muckle, mair : 
 It's no in books; it's no in Lear, 
 
 To make us truly bleft : 
 If Happinefs hae not her feat 
 
 And center in the breaft, 
 We may be wife^ or rich^ or great ^ 
 
 But never can be blejl :
 
 f '45 ) 
 
 Nae treafiires, nor pleafures 
 Could make us happy lang ; 
 
 The heart ay's the part ay, 
 That makes us right or wrang. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Think ye, that fic as jo// and /, 
 
 Wha drudge and drive thro' wet and dry, 
 
 Wi' never-ceafmg toil ; 
 
 Think ye, are we lefs bleft than they, 
 
 Wha fcarcely tent us in their way. 
 
 As hardly worth their while ? 
 
 Alas ! how aft, in haughty mood, 
 
 G O D'S creatures they opprefs ! 
 
 Or elfe, negledling a' that's guid, 
 
 They riot in excefs ! 
 
 Baith carelefs, and fearlefs, 
 
 Of either Heaven or Hell ; 
 
 Efteeming, and deeming, 
 
 It a' an idle tale ! 
 S
 
 ( h6 ) 
 
 VII. 
 
 Then let us chearfu' acquiefce ; 
 Nor make our fcanty Pleafures lefs, 
 
 By pining at our ftate : 
 And, ev'n fhould Misfortunes come, 
 I, here wha fit, hae met wi' fome, 
 
 An's thankfu' for them yet. 
 They gie the wit of Age to Youth ; 
 
 They let us ken ourfel : 
 They make us fee the naked truth, 
 The real guid and ill. 
 Tho' lofles, and croffes. 
 
 Be lefTons right fevere. 
 There's voit there, ye'll get there, 
 Ye'll find nae other where. 
 
 , VIII. 
 
 But tent me, DAVIE, Ace o" Hearts ! 
 (To fay aught lefs wad wrang the cartes^ 
 
 And flatt'ry I deteft) 
 This life has joys for you and I ; 
 And joys that riches ne'er could buy ; 
 
 And joys the very beft.
 
 ( H7 ) 
 
 There's a'- the Plea/tires o' the Hearty 
 
 The Ijover and the Frieri* ; 
 Ye hae your MEG, your deareft part, 
 And I my darUng JEAN ! 
 It warms me, it charms me, 
 
 To mention but her na77ie : 
 It heats me, it beets me. 
 And fets me a' on flame ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 O, all ye Powers who rule above ! 
 O THOU, whofe very felf art love ! 
 
 THOU know'ft my words fmcere ! 
 The life blood ftreaming thro' my heart, 
 Or my more dear Immortal part ^ 
 
 Is not more fondly dear ! 
 When heart-corroding care and grief 
 
 Deprive my foul of reft. 
 Her dear idea brings relief. 
 
 And folace to my breaft. 
 
 Thou BEING, Allfeeing, 
 
 O hear my fervent pray'r ! 
 S 2
 
 ( h8 ), 
 
 Still take her, and make her, 
 THY moft peculiar care ! 
 
 X. 
 
 All hail ! ye tender feelings dear ! 
 The fmile of leve, the friendly tear, 
 
 The fympathetic glow ! 
 Long fmce, this world's thorny ways 
 Had number'd out my weary days. 
 
 Had it not been for you ! 
 Fate ftill has bleft me with a friend. 
 
 In ev'ry care and ill ; 
 And oft a more efidear'ing band, 
 A tye more tender ftill. 
 It lightens, it brightens, 
 The tenebrific fcene. 
 To meet with, and greet with, 
 My DAVIE or my JEAN ! 
 
 XL 
 
 O, how that 7tame infpires my ftyle ! 
 The words come fkelpan, rank and file, 
 Amaift before I ken !
 
 ( H9 ) 
 
 The ready meafure rins as fine. 
 As Phabus and the famous Nine 
 
 Were glowran owre my pen. 
 My fpavet Pegafus will limp, 
 
 Till ance he's fairly het ; 
 And then he'll hilch, and ftilt, and jimp. 
 And rin an unco fit : 
 
 But leaft then, the beaft then. 
 Should rue this hafty ride, 
 I'll light now, and dight now, 
 His fweaty, wizen'd hide. 
 
 ^4*^ 
 ^4^-^ 
 
 '%'^W
 
 ( 15° ) 
 
 
 THE 
 
 LAMENT. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE UNFORTUNATE ISSUE 
 
 O F 
 
 A FRIEND'S AMOUR. 
 
 ^Ids ! hoiv oft does goodnefs UDound it/elf! 
 . Aiidfweet Affecftion^roi;^ thefprmg of Woe! 
 
 I Home. 
 
 I. 
 
 OThou pale Orb, that filent fhines, 
 While care-untroubled mortals fleep ! 
 Thou leeft a wretch^ who inly pines, 
 And wanders here to wail and weep !
 
 ( 151 ) 
 
 With Woe I nightly vigils keep, 
 
 Beneath thy wan, unwarming beam ; 
 
 And mourn, in lamentation deep. 
 How life and love are all a dream ! 
 
 II. 
 
 I joylefs view thy rays adorn. 
 
 The faintly-marked, diftant hill : 
 I joylefs view thy trembling horn, 
 
 Refledled in the gurgling rill. 
 My fondly-fluttering heart, be ftill ! 
 
 Thou bufy pow'r. Remembrance, ceafe ! 
 Ah ! mull the agonizing thrill. 
 
 For ever bar returning Peace ! 
 
 III. 
 
 No idly-feign'd, poetic pains. 
 
 My fad, lovelorn lamentings claim : 
 
 No Ihepherd's pipe — Arcadian ftrains ; 
 No fabled tortures, quaint and tame. 
 
 The plighted faith ; the mutual fame ; 
 The rft-attefed Poisoers above ;
 
 ( 152 ) 
 
 The promipd Father's tender 7iame ; 
 Thefe were the pledges of my love ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Encircled in her clafping arms, 
 
 How have the raptur'd moments flown ! 
 How have I wifh'd for Fortune's charms, 
 
 For her dear fake, and her's alone ! 
 And, muft I think it ! is fhe gone. 
 
 My fecret-heart's exulting boaft ? 
 And does fhe heedlefs hear my groan ? 
 
 And is flie ever, ever loft ? 
 
 V. 
 
 Oh ! can flie 'bear fo bafe a heart, 
 
 So loft to Honor, loft to Truth, 
 As from \\\^ fotidejt lover part. 
 
 The plighted hujhand of her youth ? 
 Alas ! Life's path may be unfmooth ! 
 
 Her way may lie thro' rough diftrefs ! 
 Then, who her pangs and pains will foothe. 
 
 Her forrows fhare and make them lefs ?
 
 ( 153 ) 
 
 VI. 
 
 Ye winged Hours that o'er us paft, 
 
 Enraptur'd more, the more enjoy'd, 
 Your dear remembrance in my breaft, 
 
 My fondly-treafur'd thoughts employ'd. 
 That breaft, how dreary now, and void, 
 
 For her too fcanty once of room ! 
 Ev'n ev'ry ray of Hope deftroy'd, 
 
 And not a Wijh to gild the gloom ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 The morn that warns th'approaching day, 
 
 Awakes me up to toil and woe : 
 I fee the hours, in long array, 
 
 That I muft fufFer, lingering, How. 
 Full many a pang, and many a throe. 
 
 Keen Recollecftion's direful train, 
 Muft wring my foul, ere Phcebus, low. 
 
 Shall kifs the diftant, weftern main. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And when my nightly couch I try, 
 Sore-harafs'd out, with care and grief,
 
 ( 154 ) 
 
 My toil-beat nerves, and tear-worn eye, 
 Keep watchings with the nightly thief: 
 
 Or if I {lumber. Fancy, chief. 
 
 Reigns, hagard-wild, in fore afright : 
 
 Ev'n day, all-bitter, brings relief. 
 
 From fuch a horror-breathing night. 
 
 IX. 
 
 O ! thou bright Queen, who, o'er th'expanfe, 
 
 Now higheft reign'ft, with boundlefs 
 fway ! 
 Oft has thy filent-marking glance 
 
 Obferv'd us, fondly-wand'ring, ftray ! 
 The time, unheeded, fped away. 
 
 While Love's luxurious piilfe beat high, 
 Beneath thy filver-gleaming ray. 
 
 To mark the mutual-kindling eye. 
 
 X. 
 
 Oh ! fcenes in ftrong remembrance fet ! 
 Scenes, never, never to return !
 
 ( 155 ) 
 
 Scenes, if in ftupor I forget, 
 Again I feel, again I burn! 
 
 From ev'ry joy and pleafure torn. 
 Life's weary vale I'll wander thro' ; 
 
 And hopelefs, comfortlefs, I'll mourn 
 Afaithlefs woman's broken vow. 
 

 
 ( ^56 ) 
 
 
 DESPONDENCY, 
 
 AN O D 
 
 I. 
 
 OPPRESS'D with grief, opprefs'd with 
 care, 
 A burden more than I can bear, 
 
 I fet me down and figh : 
 O Life ! Thou art a galling load, 
 Along a rough, a weary road. 
 
 To wretches fuch as I ! 
 Dim-backward as I caft my view. 
 What fick'ning Scenes appear !
 
 ( ^57 ) 
 
 What Sorrows yet may pierce me thro', 
 Too juftly I may fear ! 
 Still caring, defpairing, 
 
 Muft be my bitter doom ; 
 
 My woes here, flialj clofe ne'er. 
 
 But with the clofing tomb ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Happy ! ye fons of Bufy-life, 
 Who, equal to the buftling ftrife, 
 
 No other view regard ! 
 Ev'n when the wifhed end'*s deny'd. 
 Yet while the bufy means are ply'd. 
 
 They bring their own reward : 
 Whilft I, a hope-abandon'd wight, 
 
 Unfitted with an aitn^ 
 Meet ev'ry fad-returning night. 
 And joylefs morn the fame. 
 You, buftling and juftling. 
 
 Forget each grief and pain ; 
 I, liftlefs, yet reftlefs, 
 
 Find ev'ry prolpe(5l vain.
 
 ( 158 ) 
 
 III. 
 
 How bleft the Solitary's lot, 
 Who, all-forgetting, all-forgot, 
 
 Within his humble cell. 
 The cavern wild with tangling roots, 
 Sits o'er his newly-gather'd fruits, 
 
 Befide his cryftal well ! 
 Or haply, to his ev'ning thought. 
 
 By unfrequented ftream. 
 The ways of men are diftant brought, 
 A faint-collecfted dream : 
 While praifmg, and raifmg 
 
 His thoughts to Heaven on high, 
 As wand'ring, meand'ring. 
 He views the folemn fky. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Than I, no lofiely Hermit plac'd 
 Where never human footftep trac'd, 
 
 Lefs fit to play the part. 
 The lucky moment to improve, 
 Andijuji to ftop, andyV//? to move, 
 
 W\ih.felf-refpe&mg art :
 
 ( 159 ) 
 
 But ah ! thofe pleafures, Loves and Joys, 
 
 Which I too keenly tafte, 
 The Solitary can defpife, 
 Can want, and yet be blefi: ! 
 He needs not, he heeds not. 
 
 Or human love or hate ; 
 Whilft I here, muft cry here, 
 . At perfidy ingrate ! 
 
 V. 
 
 Oh, enviable, early days, 
 
 When dancing thoughtlefs Pleafure's maze, 
 
 To Care, to Guilt unknown ! 
 How ill exchang'd for riper times, 
 To feel the follies, or the crimes. 
 
 Of others, or my own ! 
 Ye tiny elves that guiltlefs fport. 
 
 Like linnets in the buih. 
 Ye little know the ills ye court. 
 When Manhood is your wifli ! 
 The lofTcs, the crolTes, 
 
 Tliat aB'ivc man engage ; 
 The fears all, the tears all, 
 Of dim declining Age 1
 
 ( i6o ) 
 
 
 MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN, 
 
 A 
 
 DIRGE 
 
 I. 
 
 WHEN chill November's furly blaft 
 Made fields and forefts bare, 
 One ev'ning as I wand'red forth. 
 
 Along the banks of AIRE, 
 I fpy'd a man, whofe aged ftep 
 
 Seem'd weary, worn with care; 
 His face was furrow'd o'er with years. 
 And hoary was his hair.
 
 ( i6i ) 
 
 li. 
 
 Young ftranger, whither wand'reft thou ? 
 
 Began the rev'rend Sage ; 
 Does thirfl: of wealth thy ftep conftrain, 
 
 Or youthful Pleafure's rage ? 
 Or haply, preft with cares and woes, 
 
 Too foon thou haft began. 
 To wander forth, with me, to mourn 
 
 The miferies of Man. 
 
 III. 
 
 The Sun that overhangs yon moors, 
 
 Out-fpreading far and wide. 
 Where hundreds labour to fupport 
 
 A haughty lordling's pride ; 
 I've feen yon weary winter-fun 
 
 Twice forty times return ; 
 And ev'ry time has added proofs. 
 
 That Man was niade to mourn. 
 
 IV. 
 
 O Man ! while in thy early years. 
 
 How prodigal of time ! 
 
 U
 
 ( '62 ) 
 
 Mifpending all thy precious hours, 
 
 Thy glorious, youthful prime ! 
 Alternate Follies take the fway ; 
 
 Licentious Paffions burn ; 
 Which tenfold force gives Nature's law, 
 
 That Man was made to mourn. 
 
 V. 
 
 Look not alone on youthful Prime, 
 
 Or Manhood's adlive might ; 
 Man then is ufeful to his kind. 
 
 Supported is his right : 
 But fee him on the edge of life, 
 
 With Cares and Sorrows worn. 
 Then Age and Want, Oh ! ill-match'd pair ! 
 
 Show Man was made to mourn. 
 
 VI. 
 
 A few feem favourites of Fate, 
 
 In Pleafure's lap careft ; 
 Yet, think not all the Rich and Great, 
 
 Are likewife truly bleft.
 
 ( >63 ) 
 
 But Oh ! what crouds in ev*ry land, 
 
 All wretched and forlorn, 
 Thro' weary life this leffon learn. 
 
 That Man was made to mourn ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Many and fharp the num'rous Ills 
 
 Inwoven with our frame ! 
 More pointed ftill we make ourfelves. 
 
 Regret, Remorfe and Shame ! 
 And Man, whofe heav'n-erecfted face, 
 
 The fmiles of love adorn, 
 Man's inhumanity to Man 
 
 Makes countlefs thoufands mourn ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 See, yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight. 
 
 So abje6t, mean and vile. 
 Who begs a brother of the earth 
 
 To give him leave to toil ; 
 And fee his \or d\j fellow-worm^ 
 
 The poor petition fpurn, 
 
 U 2
 
 ( "64 ) 
 
 Unmindful, tho'^a weeping wife, 
 And helplefs offspring mourn. 
 
 IX. 
 
 If I'm defign'd yon lordling's flave, 
 
 By Nature's law defign'd, 
 Why was an independent wifli 
 
 E'er planted in my mind ? 
 If not, why am I fubjecft to 
 
 His cruelty, or fcorn .? 
 Or why has Man the will and pow'r 
 
 To make his fellow mourn ? 
 
 X. 
 
 Yet, let not this too much, my Son, 
 
 Difturb thy youthful breaft: 
 This partial view of human-kind 
 
 Is furely not the lajl ! 
 The poor, oppreffed, honeft man 
 
 Had never, fure, been born. 
 Had there not been fome recompence 
 
 To comfort thofe that mourn !
 
 ( ^^5 ) 
 
 XL 
 
 O Death ! the poor man's deareft friend, 
 
 The kindeft and the beft ! 
 Welcome the hour, my aged Hmbs 
 
 Are laid with thee at reft ! 
 The Great, the Wealthy fear thy blow, 
 
 From pomp and pleafure torn ; 
 But Oh ! a bleft relief for thofe 
 
 That weary-laden mourn ! 

 
 ( i66 ) 
 
 ^-^4'^-^^^-i^r^f^^^^-^'^^-^^^-i^ 
 
 WINTER, 
 
 A DIRGE. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE Wintry Weft extends his blaft, 
 And hail and rain does blaw ; 
 Or, the ftormy North fends driving forth, 
 
 The bHnding fleet and fnaw : 
 While, tumbling brown, the Burn comes 
 down, 
 And roars frae bank to brae ; 
 And bird and beaft, in covert, reft. 
 And pafs the heartlefs day.
 
 ( i67 ) 
 
 11. 
 
 ' The fweeping blaft, the fky o'ercaft,' * 
 
 The joylefs winter-day^ 
 Let others fear, to me more dear, 
 
 Than all the pride of May : 
 The Tempeft's howl, itfoothes my foul, 
 
 My griefs it feems to join ; 
 The leaflefs trees my fancy pleafe, 
 
 ThtiY fate refembles mine ! 
 
 III. ' 
 
 Thou POW'R SUPREME, whofe mighty 
 Scheme, 
 
 Thefe woes of mine fulfil ; 
 Here, firm, I refi;, they 7nuji be beft, 
 
 Becaufe they are Thy Will ! - 
 Then all I want (Oh, do thou grant 
 
 This one requeft of mine !) 
 Since to enjoy Thou doft deny, 
 
 AfTift me to refign ! 
 
 * Dr, Young.
 
 ( i68 ) 
 
 ^■wm<^ 
 
 <^ml 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^/^ 
 
 A 
 
 PRAYER, 
 
 IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. 
 
 I. 
 
 OTHOU unknown, Almighty Caufe 
 Of all my hope and fear ! 
 In whofe dread Prefence, ere an hour, 
 Perhaps I muft appear ! 
 
 II. 
 
 If I have wander'd in thofe paths 
 Of life I ought to fhun ;
 
 ( i69 ) 
 
 As Somethings loudly, in my breaft, 
 Remonftrates I have done ; 
 
 III. 
 
 Thou know'ft that Thou haft formed me, 
 With Paflions wild and ftrong ; 
 
 And lift'ning to their witching voice 
 Has often led me wrong. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Where human weaknefs has come fhort, 
 
 Ox frailty ftept afide, 
 Do Thou, ALL-GOOD, for fuch Thou art, 
 
 In fhades of darknefs hide. 
 
 V. 
 
 Where with intention I have err'd. 
 
 No other plea I have, 
 
 But, Thou art good ; and Goodnefs ftill 
 
 Dellghteth to forgive. 
 
 X
 
 ( 170 ) 
 
 \*Xt^\OA\*Xw)^^ 
 
 T O A 
 
 MOUNTAIN-DAISY, 
 
 On turning one down^ with the Plough^ in A- 
 pril 1786. 
 
 WEE, modeft, crimfon-tipped flpw'r, 
 Thou's met me in an evil hour; 
 For I maun crufh amang the ftoure 
 
 Thy flender ftem : 
 To fpare thee now is paft my pow'r, 
 
 Thou bonie gem. 
 
 Alas ! it's no thy neebor fweet. 
 The bonie Lark^ companion meet !
 
 ( I?' ) 
 
 Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! 
 
 Wi's fpreckl'd breaft, 
 When upward-fpringing, blythe, to greet 
 
 The purpling Eaft. 
 
 Cauld blew .the bitter-biting North 
 Upon thy early, humble birth ; 
 Yet chearfully thou glinted forth 
 
 Amid the ftorm, 
 Scarce rear'd above the Parent-earth 
 
 Thy tender form. 
 
 The flauntingy?(9i£;Vj" our Gardens yield, 
 High-fhelt'ring woods and wa's maun ihield, 
 But thou, beneath the random bield 
 
 O' clod or ftane, 
 Adorns the \i\%.Q Jtibble-Jieldy 
 
 Unfeen, alane. 
 
 There, in thy fcanty mantle clad, 
 Thy fnawie bofom fun-ward fpread, 
 Thou lifts thy unaffuming head 
 
 In humble guife ; 
 
 X 2
 
 ( 172 ) 
 
 But now \\itjhare uptears thy bed, 
 
 And low thou Ues ! 
 
 Such is the fate of artlefs Maid, 
 Sweet JlowVei of the rural fhade ! 
 By Love's fimplicity betray'd, 
 
 . And guilelefs truft, 
 Till fhe, like thee, all foil'd, is laid 
 
 Low i' the dull. 
 
 Such is the fate of fimple Bard, 
 On Life's rough ocean lucklefs ftarr'd ! 
 Unfkilful he to note the card 
 
 Of prudent Lore, 
 Till billows rage, and gales blow hard. 
 
 And whelm him o'er ! 
 
 Such fate Xofuffering worth is giv'n, 
 Who long with wants and woes has ftriv'n, 
 By human pride or cunning driv'n 
 
 To Mif'ry's brink. 
 Till wrench'd of ev'ry ftay but HEAV'N, 
 
 He, ruin'd, fmk !
 
 i '73 ) 
 
 Ev'n thou who mourn'ft the Daiffs fate, 
 
 That fate is thine no diftant date ; 
 
 Stern ^mn^s ploiigh-JJjare drives, elate, 
 
 Full on thy bloom, 
 Till crufh'd beneath the. furrow's weight, 
 
 Shall be thy doom ! 
 
 %3^ 
 
 iJ^
 
 { 174 ) 
 
 
 TO RUIN. 
 
 I. 
 
 ALL hail ! inexorable lord ! 
 At whofe deftrucflion-breathing word, 
 The mightieft empires fall ! 
 Thy cruel, woe-delighted train. 
 The minifters of Grief and Pain, 
 A fullen welcome, all ! 
 
 4 
 
 With ftern-refolvM, defpairing eye, 
 
 I fee each aimed dart ; 
 For one has cut my dearejl tye^ 
 
 And quivers in my heart.
 
 { '75 ) 
 
 Then low'ring, and pouring, 
 The Storm no more I dread ; 
 
 Tho' thick'ning, and black'ning, 
 Round my devoted head. 
 
 II. 
 
 And thou grim Pow'r, by Life abhorr'd, 
 While Life a pleafure can afford, 
 
 Oh ! hear a wretch's pray'r ! 
 No more I fhrink appall'd, afraid ; 
 I court, I beg thy friendly aid, 
 
 To clofe this fcene of care ! 
 When fhall my foul, in filent peace, 
 
 Refign Life's yc/j/^ day ? 
 My weary heart it's throbbings ceafe, 
 Cold-mould'ring in the clay ? 
 No fear more, no tear more. 
 To ftain my lifelefs face, 
 Enclafped, and grafped. 
 Within thy cold embrace !
 
 ( 176 ) 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 TO A 
 
 YOUNG FRIEND. 
 
 May 1786. 
 
 I. 
 
 I Lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend, 
 A Something to have fent you, 
 Tho' it fhould ferve nae other end 
 
 Than juft a kind memento ; 
 But how the fubjecft theme may gang, 
 
 Let time and chance determine ; 
 Perhaps it may turn out a Sang ; 
 Perhaps, turn out a Sermon.
 
 ( ^11 ) 
 
 11. 
 
 Ye'll try the world foon my lad, 
 
 And ANDREW dear believe me, 
 Ye'll find mankind an unco fquad. 
 
 And muckle they may grieve ye : 
 For care and trouble fet your thought, 
 
 Ev'n when your end's attained ; 
 And a' your views may come to nought. 
 
 Where ev'ry nerve is ftrained. 
 
 III. 
 I'll no fay, men are villains a' ; 
 
 The real, harden'd wicked, 
 Wha hae nae check but human law^ 
 
 Are to a few reftricked : 
 But Och, mankind are unco weak 
 
 An' little to be trufted ; 
 If Self the wavering balance fhake. 
 
 It's rarely right adjufted ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet they wha fa' in Fortune's ftrife, 
 
 Their fate we fhould na cenfure, 
 
 For ftill th' important end of life. 
 
 They ec^ually may anfwer : 
 
 Y
 
 ( '78 ) 
 
 A man may hae an honejl hearty 
 Tho' Poortith hourly ftare him ; 
 
 A man may tak a neebor's part, 
 Yet hae nae cajh to fpare him. 
 
 V. 
 
 Ay free, aff han', your ftory tell, 
 
 When wi' a bofom crony ; 
 But ftill keep fomething to yourfel 
 
 Ye fcarcely tell to ony. 
 Conceal yourfel as weePs ye can 
 
 Frae critical diffedlion ; 
 But keek thro' ev'ry other man, 
 
 Wi' fharpen'd, fly infpecftion. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Tht /acred lowe o' weel plac'd love. 
 
 Luxuriantly indulge it ; 
 But never tempt xWillicit rove^ 
 
 Tho' naething fliould divulge it : 
 I wave the quantum o' the fm ; 
 
 The hazard of concealing ; 
 But Och ! it hardens a* within^ 
 
 And petrifies the feeling !
 
 ( 179 ) 
 VII. 
 
 To catch Dame Fortune's golden fmile, 
 
 Affiduous wait upon her; 
 And gather gear by ev'ry wile, 
 
 That's juftify'd by Honor : 
 Not for to hide it in a hedge^ 
 
 Nor for a t?- ain- attend ant ; 
 Biit for the glorious priviledge 
 
 Of being independant. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Thej^^^r o' Hellas a hangman's whip, 
 
 To baud the wretch in order ; 
 But where ye feel your Honor grip, 
 
 Let that ay be your border : 
 It's llighteft touches, inftant paufe — 
 
 Debar a' fide-pretences ; 
 And refolutely keep it's laws. 
 
 Uncaring confequences. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The great CREATOR to revere, 
 
 Muft fure become the Creature ; 
 
 But ftill the preaching cant forbear. 
 
 And ev'n the rigid feature : 
 
 Y 2
 
 ( i8o ) 
 
 Yet ne'er with Wits prophane to range, 
 
 Be complaifance extended ; 
 An athieJl-laugF s a poor exchange 
 
 For Deity offended I 
 
 X. 
 
 When ranting round in Pleafure's ring, 
 
 Rehgion may be blinded ; 
 Or if ihe gie a rajidom-Jihig^ 
 
 It may be Httle minded ; 
 But when on Life we're tempeft-driven, 
 
 A Confcience but a canker — 
 A correfpondence fix'd wi' Heav'n, 
 
 Is fure a noble anchor I 
 
 XI. 
 
 Adieu, dear, amiable Youth ! 
 
 Your heart can ne'er be wanting ! 
 May Prudence, Fortitude and Truth 
 
 Ere6l your brow undaunting ! 
 In ploughman phrafe 'GOD fend you fpeed,' 
 
 Still daily to grow wifer ; 
 And may ye better reck the rede^ 
 
 Than ever did th' Advifer !
 
 ( i8i ) 
 
 ^uu> ->^-'* ^^^ '"^ ""^ tjg^^-^ — """" ^ 
 
 ON A 
 
 SCOTCH BARD 
 
 GONE TO THE WEST INDIES. 
 
 A 
 
 Ye wha live by fowps o' drink, 
 A' ye wha live by crS,mbo-clink, 
 A' ye wha live and never think, 
 
 Come, mourn wi' me ! 
 Our billtc's gien us a' a jink, 
 
 An' owre the Sea.
 
 ( i82 ) 
 
 Lament him a' ye rantan core, 
 Wha dearly like a random-fplore ; 
 Nae mair he'll join the merry roar^ 
 
 In fecial key ; 
 For now he's taen anither lliore, 
 
 An' owre the Sea ! 
 
 The bonie lafTes weel may wifs him, 
 And in their dear petitions place him : 
 The widows, wives, an' a' may blefs him, 
 
 Wi' tearfu' e'e; 
 For weel I wat they'll fairly mifs him 
 
 That's owre the Sea ! 
 
 O Fortune, they hae room to grumble ! 
 Hadft thou taen aff fome drowfy bummle, 
 Wha can do nought but fyke an' fumble, 
 
 'Twad been nae plea ; 
 But he was gle^ as onie wumble. 
 
 That's owre the Sea ! 
 
 Auld, cantie KYLE may weepers wear, 
 An' ftain them wi' the faut, faut tear:
 
 ( '83 ) 
 
 'Twill mak her poor, auld heart, I fear. 
 
 In flinders flee : 
 
 He was her Laurent monie a year, 
 
 That's owre the Sea ! 
 
 He faw Misfortune's cauld Nor-weft 
 Lang-muftering up a bitter blafl: ; 
 A Jillet brak his heart at lafl:, 
 
 111 may flie be ! 
 So, took a birth afore the maft. 
 
 An' owre the Sea. 
 
 To tremble under Fortune's cummock. 
 On fcarce a bellyfu' o' driimmock^ 
 Wi' his proud, independant fl:omach, 
 
 Could ill agree; 
 So, row't his hurdies in a hammock^ 
 
 An' owre the Sea. 
 
 He ne'er was gien to great mifguidin. 
 Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in; 
 Wi' him it ne'er was under hid'm ; 
 
 He dealt it free :
 
 ( i84 ) 
 
 The Miife was a' that he took pride in, 
 
 That's owre the Sea. 
 
 yamaica bodies^ ufe him weel, 
 An' hap him in a cozie biel : 
 Ye'll find him ay a dainty chiel, 
 
 An' fou o' glee : 
 He wad na wrang'd the vera Diel^ 
 
 That's owre the Sea. 
 
 Fareweel, my rhytne-compojing biUie ! 
 Your native foil was right ill-willie ; 
 But may ye flourifh like a lily, 
 
 Now bonilie ! 
 I'll toaft you in my hindmoft gillie^ 
 
 Tho' owre the Sea ! 
 
 "^^
 
 ( i85 ) 
 
 ^f — <x<< ■♦•<-<■•<•■♦■♦■<-♦■♦•<•■♦■♦•<••<•■< ■<-<^' <•<•■<■•♦■<■•<•■<■•<••<■■< •<••<••♦■♦•<■•<••<•■<•■♦•<•< — ^^ 
 
 A 
 
 DEDICATION 
 
 T O 
 
 Q**** T-T******* ¥\{a ' 
 
 EXPECT na, Sir, in this narration, 
 A fleechan, fleth'ran Dedication, 
 To roofe you up, an' ca' you guid. 
 An' fprung o' great an' noble bluid ; 
 Becaufe ye' re firnam'd like Nis Grace, 
 Perhaps related to the race : 
 Then when I'm tir'd — and fae are_)r, 
 Wi' monie a fulfome, linfu' lie,
 
 ( '86 ) 
 
 Set up a face, how I ftop fhort, 
 For fear your modefty be hurt. 
 
 This may do — maun do, Sir, wi' them wha 
 Maun pleafe the Great-folk for a wamefou ; 
 For me ! fae laigh I need na bow, 
 For, LORD be thanket, I can plough ; 
 And when I downa yoke a naig, 
 Then, LORD be thanket, I ca7i beg ; 
 Sae I fhall fay, an' that's nae flatt'rin, 
 It's jufty/r Poet 2J^ fic Patrott. 
 
 The Poet, fome guid Angel help him, 
 Or elfe, I fear, fome /'// ane fkelp him ! 
 He may do weel for a' he's done yet, 
 But only — he's no juft begun yet. 
 
 The Patron, (Sir, ye maun forgie me, 
 I winna lie, come what will o' me) 
 On ev'ry hand it will allow'd be. 
 He's juft — nae better than he fhould be. 
 
 I readily and freely grant, 
 He downa fee a poor man want ; 
 What's no his ain, he winna tak it ; 
 What ance he fays, he winna break it ;
 
 ( .87 ) . 
 
 Ought he can lend he'll no refuf't, 
 Till aft his guidnefs is abuf 'd ; 
 And rafcals whyles that do him wrang, 
 Ev'n that^ he does na mind it lang : 
 As Mafter, Landlord, Hufband, Father, 
 He does na fail his part in either. 
 
 But then, nae thanks to him for a' that ; 
 Nae godly fymptom ye can ca' that ; 
 It's naething but a milder feature. 
 Of our poor, fmfu', corrupt Nature : 
 Ye'll get the beft o' moral works, 
 'Mang black Ge?itoos^ and Pagan Ttirks^ 
 Or Hunters wild on Ponotaxi^ 
 Wha never heard of Orth-d-xy. 
 That he's the poor man's friend in need, 
 The GENTLEMAN in word and deed. 
 It's no through terror of D-mn-t-n ; 
 It's juft a carnal inclination, 
 And Och ! that's nae r-g-n-r-t-n ! ^ 
 
 Morality, thou deadly bane. 
 Thy tens o' thoufands thou haft (lain ! 
 Vain is his hope, whafe ftay an' truft is, 
 In moral Mercy, Truth and Juftice ! 
 
 Z 2 
 
 I
 
 { i88 ) 
 
 No — ftretch a point to catch a plack ; 
 Abufe a Brother to his back ; 
 Steal thro' the winnock frae a wh-re, 
 But point the Rake that taks the door ; 
 Be to the Poor hke onie whunftane, 
 And hand their nofes to the grunftane ; 
 Ply ev'ry art o' legal thieving ; 
 No matter — flick io found believing. 
 
 Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces, 
 Wi' weel fpread looves, an' lang, wry faces ; 
 Grunt up a folemn, lengthen'd groan, 
 And damn a' Parties but your own ; 
 ril warrant then, ye're nae Deceiver, 
 A fteady, fturdy, flaunch Believer, 
 
 O ye wha leave the fprings o' C-lv-n, 
 For giimlie dubs of your ain delvin ! 
 Ye fons of Herefy and Error, 
 Yo'Wfome day fqueel in quaking terror ! 
 When Vengeance draws the fword in wrath, 
 And in the fire throws thtjljeatb ; 
 When Ruin, with his fweeping befom^ 
 Juft frets till Heav'n commiffion gies him ;
 
 { i89 ) 
 
 While o'er the Harp pale Mifery moans, ^ 
 And ftrikes the ever-deep'ning tones, 
 Still louder fhrieks, and heavier groans ! 
 
 Your pardon, Sir, for this digreffion, . 
 I maift forgat my Dedication ; 
 But when Divinity comes crofs me. 
 My readers then are fure to lofe me. 
 
 So Sir, you fee 'twas nae daft vapour, 
 But I maturely thought it proper, 
 When a' my works I did review. 
 To dedicate them. Sir, to YOU : 
 Becaufe (ye need na tak it ill) 
 I thought them fomething like yoiirfel. 
 
 Then patronize them wi' your favor, 
 And your Petitioner fhall ever — 
 I had amaift faid, ever pray. 
 But that's a word I need na fay : 
 For prayin I hae little (kill o't ; 
 I'm baith dead-fweer, an' wretched ill o't ; 
 But I'fe repeat each poor man's ^r^j'r, 
 That kens or hears about you, Sir
 
 { 19° ) 
 
 ' May ne'er Misfortune's gowling bark, 
 Howl thro' the dwdhng o' the CLERK ! 
 May ne'er his gen'rous, honeft heart, 
 For that fame gen'rous fpirit fmart ! 
 May K******'s far-honor'd name 
 Lang beet his hymeneal flame, 
 Till H*******'s, at leaft a diz'n. 
 Are frae their nuptial labor's rifen : 
 Five bonie Lafles round their table, 
 And fev'n braw fellows, flout an' able, 
 To ferve their King an' Country weel, 
 By word, or pen, or pointed fleel ! 
 May Health and Peace, with mutual rays. 
 Shine on the ev'ning o' his days j 
 Till his wee, curlie yohfi's ier-6e. 
 When ebbing life nae mair fliall flow 
 The laft, fad, mournful rites beftow ! 
 
 :■! 
 
 I will not wind a lang conclufion. 
 With complimentary eff^ufion : 
 But whilft your wiflies and endeavours, 
 Are bleft with Fortune's fmiles and favours,
 
 ( t9' ) 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, with zeal moft fervent, 
 Your much indebted, humble fervant. 
 
 But if, which Pow'rs above prevent, 
 That iron-hearted Carl, Want, 
 Attended, in his grim advances, 
 ^j fad mijlakes, and black mi/chances. 
 While hopes, and joys, and pleafures fly him, 
 Make you as poor a dog as I am. 
 Your humble fervant then no more ; 
 For who would humbly ferve the Poor ? 
 But by a poor man's hopes in Heav'n ! 
 While recolledlion's pow'r is giv'n, 
 If, in the vale of humble life, 
 The vidlim fad of Fortune's ftrife, 
 I, through the tender-gufhing tear, 
 Should recognife my Majler dear. 
 If friendlefs, low, we meet together, 
 Then, Sir, your hand — my FRIEND and 
 BROTHER.
 
 { 192 ) 
 
 
 TO A 
 
 LOUSE, 
 
 On Semig ofte on a Lady\ Bonnet at Church. 
 
 HA ! whare ye gaun, ye crowlan ferlie ! 
 Your impudence protedls you fairly : 
 I canna fay but ye ftrunt rarely, 
 
 Owre gawze and lace ; 
 Tho' faith, I fear ye dine but fparely, 
 
 On fic a place. 
 
 Ye ugly, creepan, blaftet wonner, 
 Detefted, (hunn'd, by faunt an' finner,
 
 ( 193 ) 
 
 How daur ye fet your fit upon her, 
 
 Sae fine a Lady ! 
 
 Gae fomewhere elfe and feek your dinner, 
 
 On fome poor body. 
 
 Swith, in fome beggar's hafFet fquattle ; 
 There ye may creep, and fprawl, and fprattle, 
 Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle. 
 
 In fhoals and nations ; 
 Whare hor?i nor bane ne'er daur unfettle, 
 
 Your thick plantations. 
 
 Now baud you there, ye're out o' fight. 
 Below the fatt'rels, fiiug and tight, 
 Na faith ye yet ! ye'll no be right, 
 
 Till ye've got on it. 
 The vera tapmoft, towrin height 
 
 O' Mifs's bofmet. 
 
 My footh ! right bauld ye fet your nofe out, 
 
 As plump an' gray as onie grozet : 
 
 O for fome rank, mercurial rozet, 
 
 Or fell, red fmeddum, 
 A a
 
 ( 194 ) 
 
 I'd gie you fic a hearty dofe o't, 
 
 Wad drefs your droddum ! 
 
 I wad na been furprlzM to fpy 
 You on an auld Yf\it\Jiatnen toy ; 
 Or aiblins fome bit duddie boy, 
 
 On's wylecoat ; 
 But Mifs's fine Lunar di^ fye ! 
 
 How daur ye do't ? 
 
 O yenny dinna tofs your head, 
 An' fet your beauties a' abread ! 
 Ye Uttle ken what curfed fpeed 
 
 The blaftie's makin ! 
 Thae w'mks 2in6.Ji?iger-e?ids^ I dread. 
 
 Are notice takin ! 
 
 O wad fome Pow'r the giftie gie us 
 To fee ouj'fels as others fee us ! 
 It wad frae monie a blunder free us 
 
 An' foolifh notion : 
 What airs in drefs an' gait wad lea'e us, 
 
 And ev'n Devotion !
 
 ( 195 ) 
 
 ^* 4^^¥ *^^i^T^^* 1^^* ^^t i^^i^ y*T|:T":p* Tj: — $**■ 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 T O 
 
 T L ^ '» ^ ^ ^ J^ 
 
 AN OLD SCOTCH BARD. 
 
 4^r/7 ly?, 1785. 
 
 WHILE briers an' woodbines bud- 
 ding green, 
 An' Paitricks fcraichan loud at e'en, 
 And morning Pooffie whiddan feen, 
 
 Infpire my Mufe, 
 This freedom, in an unknoivn frien', 
 
 I pray excufe. 
 A a 2
 
 ( 196 ) 
 
 On Fafteneen we had a rockin, 
 To ca' the crack and weave our ftockin ; 
 And there was muckle fun and jokin, 
 
 Ye need na doubt ; 
 At length we had a hearty yokin, 
 
 At. fang about. 
 
 There was 2.^ fang ^ amang the reft, 
 Aboon them a' it pleaf'd me beft, 
 That fome kind huft^and had addreft, 
 
 To fome fweet wife : 
 It thril'd the heart-ftrings thro' the breaft, 
 
 A' to the Hfe. 
 
 I've fcarce heard ought defcrib'd fae weel, 
 What genVous, manly bofoms feel ; 
 Thought I, ' Can this be Pope^ or Steele^ 
 
 Or Beattie's wark;' 
 They tald me 'twas an odd kind chiel 
 
 About Miiirkirk. 
 
 It pat me fidgean-fain to hear't, 
 An' fae about him there I fpier't ;
 
 ( 197 ) 
 
 Then a' that kent him round declar'd, 
 
 He had ing'uie^ 
 
 That nane excell'd it, few cam near't, 
 
 It was fae fine. 
 
 That fet him to a pint of ale, 
 An' either doufe or merry tale, 
 Or rhymes an' fangs he'd made himfel, 
 
 Or witty catches, 
 'Tween Invernefs and Tiviotdale, 
 
 He had few matches. 
 
 Then up I gat, an fwoor an aith, 
 Tho' I fhould pawn my pleugh an' graith, 
 Or die a cadger pownie's death, 
 
 At fome dyke-back, 
 A pint an' gill I'd gie them baith^ 
 
 To hear your crack. 
 
 But firft an' foremoft, I fhould tell, 
 Amaift as foon as I could fpell, 
 I to the crambo-jingle fell, 
 
 Tho' rude an' rough,
 
 ( >98 ) 
 
 Yet crooning to a body's fel, 
 
 Does weel eneugh. 
 
 1 am nae Poet^ in a fenfe, 
 But juft a Rhymer like by chance, 
 An' hae to Learning nae pretence, 
 
 Yet, what the matter ? 
 Whene'er my Mufe does on me glance, 
 
 I jingle at her. 
 
 Your Critic-folk may cock their nofe. 
 And fay, ' How can you e'er propofe, 
 ' You wha ken hardly verfe ixd^o. profe^ 
 
 To mak 2ifangf'' 
 But by your leaves, my learned foes, 
 
 Ye're maybe wrang. 
 
 What's a' your jargon o' your Schools, 
 Your Latin names for horns an' ftools ; 
 If honeft Nature made jou fools. 
 
 What fairs your G rammars ? 
 Ye'd better taen w^fpades 2indJhools, 
 
 Or knappin-hamfners.
 
 ( 199 ) 
 
 A fet o' dull, conceited Hafhes, 
 Confufe their brains in Colledge-claJJes ! 
 They gafig in Stirks, and come out Afles, 
 
 Plain truth to fpeak ; 
 An' fytie they think to climb Parnaflus 
 
 By dint o' Greek ! 
 
 Gie me ae fpark o' Nature's fire, 
 That's a' the learning I defire ; 
 Then tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire 
 
 At pleugh or cart, 
 My Mufe, tho' hamely in attire. 
 
 May touch the heart. 
 
 O for a fpunk o' ALLAN'S glee. 
 Or FERGUSON'S, the bauld an' flee. 
 Or bright L "" "'" '"' '" ''" K ' S, my friend to be, 
 
 If I can hit it ! 
 That would be tear eneugh for me. 
 
 If I could get it. 
 
 Now, Sir, if ye hae friends enow, 
 Tho' real friends I b'lieve are few.
 
 ( 200 ) 
 
 Yet, if your catalogue be fow, 
 
 Ffe no infift ; 
 But gif ye want ae friend that's true, 
 
 I'm on your lift. 
 
 I winna blaw about myfel^ 
 As ill I like my fauts to tell ; 
 But friends an' folk that wifh me well. 
 
 They fometimes roofe me ; 
 Tho' I maun own, as monie ftill. 
 
 As far abufe me. 
 
 There's ae wee faiit they whiles lay to me, 
 I like the laffes — Gude forgie me ! 
 For monie a Plack they wheedle frae me, 
 
 At dance or fair : 
 Maybe fome ither thing they gie me 
 
 They weel can fpare. 
 
 But MAUCHLINE Race or MAUCH-- 
 LINE, Fair, 
 I fhould be proud to meet you there ; 
 We'fe gie ae night's difcharge to care^ 
 
 If we forgather.
 
 ( 20I ) 
 
 An' hae a fwap o' rhymln-ware^ 
 
 Wi' ane anither. 
 
 T\\Q four-gill chap^ we'fe gar him clatter, 
 An'ikirf'n him wi' reekin water; 
 Syne we'll fit down an' tak our whitter, 
 
 To chear our heart ; 
 An' faith, we'fe be acqua'mted better 
 
 Before we part. 
 
 Awa ye felfifh, warly race, 
 Wha think that havins, fenfe an' grace, 
 Ev'n love an' friendfhip fhould give place 
 
 To catch-the—plack I 
 I dinna like to fee your face. 
 
 Nor hear your crack. 
 
 But ye whom focial pleafure charms, 
 
 Whofe hearts the tide of kindncfs warms, 
 
 Who hold your being on the terms, 
 
 ' Each aid the others,' 
 
 Come to my bowl, come to my arms. 
 
 My friends, my brothers ! 
 B b
 
 ( 202 ) 
 
 But to conclude my lang epiftle, 
 As my auld pen's worn to the grifsle ; 
 Twa lines frae you wad gar me fifsle, 
 
 Who am, moft fervent, 
 While I can either fmg, or whifsle. 
 
 Your friend and fervant. 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 April 2ifi, 1785. 
 
 WHILE new-ca'd kye rowte at the 
 ftake. 
 An' pownies reek in pleugh or braik, 
 This hour on e'enin's edge I take. 
 
 To own I'm debtor. 
 To honeft-hearted, auld L ***** K, 
 
 For his kind letter. 
 
 Forjefket fair, with weary legs, 
 Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs, 
 Or dealing thro' amang the naigs 
 
 Their ten-hours bite.
 
 { , 203 ) 
 
 My awkart Mufe fair pleads and begs, 
 
 I would na write. 
 
 The tapetlefs, ramfeezl'd hizzie, 
 She% faft at beft an' fomething lazy, 
 Quo' {he, ' Ye ken we've been fae bul'y 
 
 ' This month an' mair, 
 ' That trouth, my head is grown right dizzie, 
 
 ' An' fomething fair.' 
 
 Her dowf excufes pat me mad ; 
 ' Confcience,' fays I, ' ye thowlefs jad 1 
 ' I'll write, an' that a hearty blaud, 
 
 ' This vera night ; 
 ' So dinna ye affront your trade, 
 
 ' But rhyme it right. 
 
 * Shall bauld h***''*K,the hrig o' bearfs, 
 
 ' Tho' mankind were 2^ pack o* cartes, 
 
 ' Roofe you fae weel for your deferts, 
 
 ' In terms fae friendly, 
 
 ' Yet ye'll negledl to fhaw your parts 
 
 ' An' thank him kindly ?' 
 B b 2
 
 ( 204 ) 
 
 Sae I gat paper in a blink, 
 An, down ^ditAJiumpie in the ink : 
 Quoth I, ' Before I fleep a wink, 
 
 ' I vow I'll clofe it ; 
 ' An' if ye winna mak it clink, 
 
 * By Jove I'll profeit!' 
 
 Sae I've begun to fcrawl, but whether 
 In rhyme, or profe, or baith thegither. 
 Or fome hotch-potch that's rightly neither. 
 
 Let time mak proof; 
 But I fhall fcribble down fome blether 
 
 Juft clean aff-loof. 
 
 My worthy friend, ne'er grudge an' carp, 
 Tho' Fortune ufe you hard an' fharp ; 
 Come, kittle up your moorlan harp 
 
 Wi' gleefome touch ! 
 Ne'er mind how Fortune lioaft an' warp ; 
 
 She's but a b-tch. 
 
 She's gien me monie a jirt an' fleg, 
 Sin I could ftriddle owre a rig ;
 
 { 205 ) 
 
 But by the L — d, tho' I Ihould beg 
 
 Wi' lyart pow, 
 
 I'll laugh, an' fing, an' Ihake my leg, 
 
 As lang's I dow ! 
 
 Now comes xhtfax afi* twentieth fimmer, 
 I've Teen the bud upo' the timmer, 
 Still perfecuted by the limmer 
 
 Frae year to year ; 
 But yet, defpite the kittle kimmer, 
 
 /, Rob^ am here. 
 
 Do ye envy the city-gent^ 
 Behint a kill to lie an' fklent. 
 Or purfe-proud, big wi' cent per cent, 
 
 An' muckle wame. 
 In fome bit Briigh to reprefent 
 
 A Baillie's name ? 
 
 Or is't the paughty, feudal Thane^ 
 Wi' ruffl'd lark an' glancin cane, 
 Wha thinks himlbl wdL^JlDecp-Jljank bane^ 
 
 But lordly ftalks,
 
 ( 206 ) 
 
 While caps an' bonnets aff are taen, 
 
 As by he walks ? 
 
 ' O Thou wha gies us each guid gift ! 
 ' Gie me o' isoit 2lVl fe?ife a lift, 
 ' Then turn me, if Thou pleafe, adrift^ 
 
 ' Thro' Scotland wide; 
 ' Wi' cits nor lairds I wadna fhift, 
 
 ' In a' their pride !' 
 
 Were this the charter of our ftate, 
 ' On pain o' hell be rich an' great,' 
 Damnation then would be our fate, 
 
 Beyond remead ; 
 But, thanks to Heav*n^ that's no the gate 
 
 We learn our creed. 
 
 For thus the royal Mandate ran, 
 When firft the human race began, 
 ' The focial, friendly, honeft man, 
 
 ' Whate'er he be, 
 Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan^ 
 
 ' And none but he^ 
 
 ( J
 
 ( 207 ) 
 
 O Mandate^ glorious and divine ! 
 The followers o' the ragged Nine, 
 Poor thoughtlefs devils ! yet may Ihine 
 
 In glorious light, 
 While fordid fons o' Mammon's line 
 
 Are dark as night ! 
 
 Tho' here they fcrape, an' fqueeze, an' 
 growl. 
 Their worthlefs nievefu' of 2k. foul ^ 
 May in {ou\q future carcafe howl. 
 
 The foreft's fright ; 
 Or in fome day-detefting oisdI 
 
 May fhun the light. 
 
 Then may L ***** K. and B * * * * arife, 
 To reach their native, kindred fkies, 
 
 h.xvdfing their pleafures, hopes an' joys. 
 
 In fome mild fphere, 
 
 Still clofer knit in friendiliip's ties 
 
 Each paffmg year !
 
 { 2o8 ) 
 
 T o 
 
 W. S ■"" '' '' -•■ -'• N, OCHILTREE. 
 
 May 1785. 
 
 I Gat your letter, winfome Willie ; 
 Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie; 
 Tho' I maun fay't, I wad be filly, 
 
 An' unco vain, 
 Should I believe, my coaxin billie, 
 
 Your flatterin ftrain. 
 
 But I'fe believe ye kindly meant it, 
 I fud be laith to think ye hinted 
 Ironic fatire, fidelins fklented, 
 
 On my poor Mufie ; 
 Tho' in iic phraifm terms ye've penn'd it, 
 
 I fcarce excufe ye.
 
 ( 209 ) 
 
 My fenfes wad be In a creel, 
 Should I but dare a hope to fpeel, 
 Wi' Allati^ or wi' Gilbertfield^ 
 
 The braes o' fame ; 
 Or Fergiifon^ the writer-chiel, 
 
 A deathlefs name. 
 
 (O Fergufon ! thy glorious parts ^ 
 Ill-fuited law*s dry, mufty arts ! 
 My curfe upon your whunftane hearts. 
 
 Ye Enbrugh Gentry ! 
 The tythe o' what ye wafte at cartes 
 
 Wad ftow'd his pantry !) 
 
 Yet when a tale comes i' my head, 
 Or lalTes gie rny heart a fcreed, 
 As whiles they're like to be my dead, 
 
 (O fad difeafe !) 
 I kittle up my nijiic reed ; 
 
 It gies me eafe. 
 
 Auld CO I LA, now, may fidge fu' fain. 
 
 She's gotten Bardies o' her ain, 
 
 C c
 
 ( 2IO ) 
 
 Chiels wha their chanters winna haln, 
 
 But tune their lays, 
 
 Till echoes a' refound again 
 
 Her weel-fung praile. 
 
 Nae Poet thought her worth his while, 
 To fet her name in meafur'd ftyle ; 
 She lay like fome unkend-of ifle 
 
 Befide Neiv Holland^ 
 Or whare wild-meeting oceans boll 
 
 Befouth Magellan, 
 
 Ram/ay an' famous Fergufon 
 Gied Forth an' 7 ay a lift aboon ; 
 Yarrow an' Tweedy to monie a tune, 
 
 Owre Scotland rings, 
 While Irwhi^ Liigar^ Aire an' Doon^ 
 
 Naebody fmgs. 
 
 Th' lUiJfiis^ Tiber ^ Thames an' Se'ine^ 
 Glide fweet in monie a tunefu' line ; 
 But Willie fet your fit to mine, 
 
 An' cock your creft,
 
 ( ^u ) 
 
 We'll gar our ftreams an' burnies fhine 
 
 Up wi' the beft. 
 
 We'll fing auld COILA'S plains an' fells, 
 Her moors red-brown wi' heather bells, 
 Her banks an' braes, her dens an' dells, 
 
 Where glorious WALLACE 
 Aft bure the gree, as ftory tells, 
 
 Frae Suthron billies. 
 
 At WALLACE' name, what Scottifh blood, 
 But boils up in a fpring-tide flood ! 
 Oft have our fearlefs fathers ftrode » 
 
 By WALLACE' fide, 
 Still prefling onward, red-wat-fhod. 
 
 Or glorious dy'd ! 
 
 O fweet are COILA'S haughs an' woods^ 
 When lintwhites chant amang the buds, 
 And jinkin hares, in amorous whids. 
 
 Their loves enjoy. 
 While thro' the braes the cufhat croods 
 
 With wailfu' cry ! 
 
 C C 2
 
 ( 212 ) 
 
 Ev'n winter bleak has charms to me, 
 When winds rave thro' the naked tree; 
 Or frofts on hills of Ochiltree 
 
 Are hoary gray ; 
 Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee, 
 
 Dark'ning the day ! 
 
 O NATURE! a' thy fhews an' forms 
 To feeling, penfive hearts hae charms! 
 Whether the Summer kindly warms, 
 
 Wi' life an' light. 
 Or Winter howls, in gufty ftorms. 
 
 The lang, dark night ! 
 
 The Miife^ nd.e Foei ever fand her. 
 Till by himfel he learn'd to wander, 
 Adown fome trottin burn's meander, 
 
 An' no think lang ; 
 O fweet, to ftray an' penfive ponder 
 
 A heart-felt fang ! 
 
 The warly race may drudge an' drive, 
 Hog-{houther, jundie, ftretch an' ftrive,
 
 ( 213 ) 
 
 Let me fair NATURE'S face defcrive, 
 
 And I, wi' pleafure, 
 
 Shall let the bufy, grumbling hive 
 
 Bum owre their treafure. 
 
 Fareweel, ' my rhyme-compofmg' brither ! 
 We've been owre lang unkenn'd to ither : 
 Now let us lay our heads thegither, 
 
 In love fraternal : 
 May Eftvy wallop in a tether, 
 
 Black fiend, infernal ! 
 
 While Highlandmen hate tolls an' taxes ; 
 While moorlan herds like guid, fat braxies ; 
 While Terra firma, on her axis, , 
 
 Diurnal turns, 
 Count on a friend, in faith an' pracftice. 
 
 In ROBERT BURNS.
 
 ( 214 ) 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 My memory's no worth a preen ; 
 I had amaift forgotten clean, 
 Ye bad me write you what they mean 
 
 By this new-light^ * 
 'Bout which our herds fae aft hae been 
 
 Maift Hke to fight. 
 
 In days when mankind were but callans, 
 At Grammar^ Logic^ an' fic talents, 
 They took nae pains their fpeech to balance. 
 
 Or rules to gie. 
 But fpak their thoughts in plain, braid lallans, 
 • Like you or me. 
 
 In thae auld times, they thought the Moon^ 
 Juft like a fark, or pair o' fhoon, 
 Woor by degrees, till her laft roon 
 
 Gaed paft their viewin, 
 An' fhortly after fhe was done 
 
 They gat a new ane. 
 
 * A cant-teiTTi for thofe religious opinions, which Dr. 
 Taylor of Norwich has defended fo ftrenuoufly.
 
 ( 215 ) 
 
 This paft for certain, undifputed ; 
 It ne'er cam i' their heads to doubt it, 
 Till chiels gat up an' wad confute it. 
 
 An' ca'd it wrang ; 
 An' muckle din there was about it, 
 
 Baith loud an' lang. 
 
 Some herds^ weel learn'd upo' the beuk. 
 Wad threap auld folk the thing mifteuk ; 
 For 'twas the auld mooji turn'd a newk 
 
 An' out o' fight. 
 An' backlins-comin, to the leuk. 
 
 She grew mair bright. 
 
 This was deny'd, it was affirm'd ; 
 The herds an' h'ljfcls were alarm'd ; 
 The rev'rend gray-beards rav'd an' ftorm'd, 
 
 That beardlefs laddies 
 Should think they better were inform'd. 
 
 Than their auld dadies, 
 
 Frae lefs to mair it gaed to flicks ; 
 Frae words an' aiths to clours an' nicks ;
 
 ( 21^ ) 
 
 An' monle a fallow gat his licks, 
 
 Wi' hearty crunt ; 
 
 An' fome, to learn them for their tricks, 
 
 Were hang'd an' brunt. 
 
 This game was play'd in monie lands, 
 An' auld-light caddies bure fic hands, 
 That faith, the youngjiers took the fands 
 
 Wi' nimble fhanks. 
 Till Lairds forbad, by fl:ri6l commands, 
 
 Sic bluidy pranks. 
 
 But new-light herds gat fic a cowe. 
 Folk thought them ruin'd ftick-an-ftowe, 
 Till now amaift on ev'ry knowe 
 
 Ye'll find ane plac'd ; 
 An' fome, their New-light fair avow, 
 
 Juft quite barefac'd. 
 
 Nae doubt the auld-light Jlocks are bleatan ; 
 Their zealous herds are vex'd an' fweatan ; 
 Myfel, I've ev'n feen them greetan 
 
 Wi' girnan fpite,
 
 ( 2>7 ) 
 
 To hear the Moofi fae fadly He'd on 
 
 By word an' write. 
 
 But fhortly they will cowe the loiins ! 
 Some auld-light herds in neebor towns 
 Are mind't, in things they ca' balloons^ 
 
 To tak a flight, 
 An' ftay ae month amang the Moons 
 
 An' fee them right. 
 
 Guid obfervation they will gie them ; 
 An' when the auld Moofi's gaun to le'ae them, 
 The Kmdimo^ Jhaird^ they'll fetch it wi' them, 
 
 Juft i' their pouch, 
 An' when the new-light billies fee them, 
 
 I think they'll crouch ! 
 
 Sae, ye obferve that a' this clatter 
 
 Is naething but a ' moonfhine matter;' 
 
 But tho' dull profe-foik latin fplatter 
 
 In logic tulzie, 
 
 I hope we. Bardies^ ken fome better 
 
 Than mind fic brulzie. 
 D d
 
 ( 2i8 ) 
 
 ##S 
 
 EPISTLE TO J. R** 
 
 •7? TT ^if ^ 
 
 ENCLOSING SOME POEMS. 
 
 Rough, rude, ready-witted R******^ 
 The wale o' cocks for fun an' drinkin ! 
 There's monle godly folks are thinkin, 
 
 Your dreams "'' an' tricks 
 Will fend you, Korah-like, a finkin, 
 
 Straught to auld Nick's. 
 
 Ye hae fae monie cracks an' cants, 
 And in your wicked, druken rants, 
 Ye mak a devil o' the Sawits^ 
 
 An' fill them fou ; 
 And then their failings, flaws an' wants, 
 
 Are a' feen thro'. 
 
 * A certain humorous dream of his was then making a 
 noife in the world.
 
 ( 219 ) 
 
 Hypocrify, in mercy fpare it ! 
 That holy robe^ O dinna tear it ! 
 Spare't for their fakes wha aften wear it, 
 
 The lads in black ; 
 But your curft wit, when it comes near it, 
 
 Rives't aff their back. 
 
 Think, wicked Sinner, wha ye' re fkaithing 
 It's juft the Bliie-go'wn badge an' claithing, 
 O' Saunts; tak that, ye lea'e them naething, 
 
 To ken them by, 
 Frae ony unregenerate Heathen, 
 
 Like you or I. 
 
 I've fent you here, fome rhymin ware, 
 A' that I bargain'd for, an' mair; 
 Sae when ye hae an hour to fpare, 
 
 I will expedl, 
 Yon Sang '" ye'll fen't, wi' cannie care. 
 
 And no negledt. 
 
 Tho' faith, fma' heart hae I to fmg ! 
 
 My Mufe dow fcarcely fpread her wing : 
 
 D d 2 
 
 * A Son^ he had promifed the Author,
 
 ( 2 20 ) 
 
 I've play'd myfel a homtfpring^ 
 
 An' danced my fill ! 
 
 I'd better gaen an' fair't the king, 
 
 At Bunker's hill. 
 
 'Twas ae night lately, in my fun, 
 1 gaed a rovin wi' the gun. 
 
 An' brought a Paitrick to the grun\ 
 
 A bonie hen^ 
 And, as the twilight was begun, 
 
 Thought nane wad ken. 
 
 The poor, wee thing was little hurt ; 
 \Jlraiket it a wee for fport. 
 Ne'er thinkan they wad fafh me for't ; 
 
 But, Deil-ma-care ! 
 Somebody tells the Poacher-Court^ 
 
 The hale affair. 
 
 Some auld, uf'd hands had taen a note, 
 T\\2Xfic a hen had got 2iJhot ; 
 I was fufpedled for the plot ; 
 
 I fcorn'd to lie;
 
 ( 22 1 ) 
 
 So gat the whifsle o' my groat, 
 
 An' pay't they^^. 
 
 But by my gun^ o' guns the wale, 
 An' by my pouther an' my hail^ 
 An' by my hen^ an' by her tail^ 
 
 I vow an' fwear ! 
 The Game Ihall Pay, owre moor an' dail^ 
 
 For this, nieft year. 
 
 As foon's the clockin-thne is by, 
 An' the ivee poivts begun to cry, 
 L — d, I'fe hae fportin by an' by, 
 
 For my gowd guinea ; 
 ,Tho' I fhould herd the buckfkin kye 
 
 For't, in Virginia! 
 
 Trowth, they had muckle for to blame ! 
 'Twas neither broken wing nor limb. 
 But twa-three draps about the wame 
 
 Scarce thro' ihe feathers ; 
 An' baith a yellow George to claim. 
 
 An' thole their blethers !
 
 ( 222 ) 
 
 It pits me ay as mad's a hare ; 
 So I can rhyme nor write nae mair ; 
 '^u.t pennyworths again is fair, 
 
 When time's expedient 
 Meanwhile I am, refpedled Sir, 
 
 Your moft obedient. 
 
 s o N G. 
 
 Tunc^ Corn rigs are ho7tie. 
 I. 
 
 IT was upon a Lammas night, 
 When corn rigs are bonie, 
 Beneath the moon's unclouded hght, 
 
 I held awa to Annie: 
 The time flew by, wi' tentlefs head, 
 
 Till 'tween the late and early ; 
 Wi' fma' perfuafion flie agreed, 
 To fee me thro' the barley.
 
 ( 223 ) 
 
 II. 
 
 The fky was blue, the wind was ftill, 
 
 The moon was Ihlning clearly ; 
 I fet her down, wi' right good will, 
 
 Amang the rigs o' barley : 
 I ken't her heart was a' my ain ; 
 
 I lov'd her moft fmcerely ; 
 I kifs'd her owre and owre again, 
 
 Amang the rigs o' barley. 
 
 III. 
 
 I lock'd her in my fond embrace ; 
 
 Her heart was beating rarely : 
 My bleffings on that happy place, 
 
 Amang the rigs o' barley ! 
 But by the moon and ftars fo bright, 
 
 That fhone that night fo clearly ! 
 She ay fhall blefs that happy night, 
 
 Amang the rigs o' barley. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I hae been blythe wi' Comrades dear ; 
 I hae been merry drinking;
 
 ( 224 ) 
 
 I hae been joyfu' gathVin gear ; 
 
 I hae been happy thinking : 
 But a' the pleafures e'er I faw, 
 
 Tho' three times doubl'd fairly, 
 That happy night was worth them a.\ 
 
 Amang the rigs o' barley. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Corn rigs, an' barley rigs, 
 
 An' corn rigs are bonie : 
 I'll ne'er forget that happy night, 
 
 Amang the rigs wi' Annie. 
 
 S O N G, 
 
 COMPOSED IN AUGUST. 
 
 Tune, I had a horfe, 1 had nae mair. 
 
 I. 
 
 OW weftlin winds, and flaught'ring 
 guns 
 
 N 
 
 Bring Autumn's pleafant weather ;
 
 ( 225 ) 
 
 And the moorcock fprlngs, on whirring wings, 
 
 Amang the blooming heather : 
 Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain, 
 
 Delights the weary Farmer ; 
 And the moon fhines bright, when I rove at 
 night, 
 
 To mufe upon my Charmer. 
 
 II. 
 
 The Partridge loves the fruitful fells ; 
 
 The Plover loves the mountains ; 
 The Woodcock haunts the lonely dells ; 
 
 The foaring Hern the fountains : 
 Thro' lofty groves, the Cufhat roves. 
 
 The path of man to fhun it ; 
 The hazel bufh o'erhangs the Thruih, 
 
 The fpreading thorn the Linnet. 
 
 III. 
 
 Thus ev'ry kind their pleafure find. 
 
 The favage and the tender ; 
 
 Some focial join, and leagues combine ; 
 
 Some folitary wander: 
 
 Ee
 
 ( 226 ) ^ 
 
 Avaunt, away J the cruel fway, 
 
 Tyrannic man's dominion ; 
 The Sportfman's joy, the murd'ring cry, 
 
 The flutt'ring, gory pinion ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 But PEGGY dear, the ev'ning's clear, 
 
 Thick flies the fkimming Swallow ; 
 The fky is blue, the fields in view, 
 
 All fading-green and yellow : 
 Come let us flray our gladfome way, 
 
 And view the charms of Nature ; 
 The ruftling corn, the fruited thorn. 
 
 And ev'ry happy creature. 
 
 V. 
 
 We'll gently walk, and fweetly talk. 
 Till the filent moon fhine clearly ; 
 
 I'll grafp thy waift, and fondly preft. 
 Swear how I love thee dearly : 
 
 Not vernal (how'rs to budding flow'rs, 
 Not Autumn to the Farmer, 
 
 So dear can be, as thou to me, 
 
 • My fair, my lovely Charmer !
 
 ( 227 ) 
 
 so N G. 
 
 Tu/ie, Gilderoy, 
 
 I. 
 
 FROM thee, ELIZA, I muft go, 
 And from my native fhore: 
 The cruel fates between u5 throw 
 
 A boundlefs ocean's roar ; 
 But boundlefs oceans, roaring wide, 
 
 Between my Love and me. 
 They never, never can divide 
 My heart and foul from thee. 
 
 II. 
 
 Farewell, farewell, ELIZA dear, 
 
 The maid that I adore ! 
 A boding voice is in mine ear. 
 
 We part to meet no more ! 
 But the lateft throb that leaves my heart. 
 
 While Death Hands vicfhor by. 
 That throb, ELIZA, is thy part, 
 
 And thine that lateft figh ! 
 
 E e 2
 
 ( 228 ) 
 
 THE FAREWELL. 
 
 TO THE BRETHREN OF St. JAMES'S LODGE, TARBOLTON. 
 
 Tune, Goodnight and joy be wP you «' 
 
 I. 
 
 ADIEU ! a Heart-warm, fond adieu ! 
 Dear brothers of the myjl'ic tye 1 
 Ye favored, enlighteji*d Few, 
 
 Companions of my foclal joy ! 
 Tho' I to foreign lands muft hie, 
 Purfuing Fortune's flidd'ry ba', 
 "With melting heart, and brimful eye, 
 I'll mind you ftill, tho' far awa. 
 
 11. 
 
 Oft have I met your focial Band, 
 
 And fpent the chearful, feftive night ; 
 
 Oft, honor'd with fupreme command, 
 Prefided o'er the Sons of light: 
 
 And by that Hieroglyphic bright, 
 
 Which none but Craftfmcn ever faw !
 
 ( 229 ) 
 
 Strong Mem'ry on my heart fhall write 
 Thofe happy fcenes when far awa ! 
 
 III. 
 
 May Freedom, Harmony and Love 
 
 Unite you in the grand Dejig?!^ 
 Beneath th' Omnifcient Eye above, 
 
 The glorious ARCHITECT Divine ! 
 That you may keep th' iinerri?ig I'me^ 
 
 Still rifmg by \ht plummefs laiv^ 
 Till Order bright, completely fhine, 
 
 Shall be my Pray'r when far awa, 
 
 IV. 
 
 And TOU^ farewell ! whofe merits claim, 
 
 Juftly that highejl badge to wear! 
 Heav'n blefs your honor'd, noble Name, 
 
 To MASONRY and SCOTIA dear! 
 A laft requeft, permit me here. 
 
 When yearly ye aflemble a', 
 One round^ I afk it with a tear^ 
 
 To him, the Bard^ thaCs far aisoa.
 
 ( 230 ) 
 
 "•*5 — y*''** — J**"**? — *•* **? y***? — y*""** J^'** y*"*? — ♦'*'*$ — ♦** 
 EPITAPH ON A HENPECKED COUNTRY SQUIRE. 
 
 As father Adam firft was fool'd, 
 
 A cafe that's ftill too common, 
 Here lyes a man a woman rul'd, 
 
 The devil rul'd the woman. 
 
 EPIGRAM ON SAID OCCASION, 
 
 O Death, hadft thou but fpar'd his life, 
 
 Whom we, this day, lament ! 
 We freely wad exchang'd the wife^ 
 
 An' a' been weel content. 
 
 Ev'n as he is, cauld in his graff, 
 
 Thtfwap we yet will do't ; 
 Tak thou the Carlin's carcafe aff, 
 
 Thou'fe get \\\tfaul o' hoot, 
 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 One Queen Artemifa, as old ftories tell, 
 When depriv'd of her hufband fhe loved fo 
 well,
 
 ( 231 ) 
 
 In refpe(5l for the love and afFedlion he'd 
 
 fhow'd her, 
 She reduc'd him to duft, and fhe drank up 
 
 the Powder. 
 
 But Queen N**********^of a diff'rent 
 complexion, 
 
 When call'd on to order the fun'ral direcflion, 
 Would have eat her dead lord, on a (lender 
 
 pretence, 
 Not to fhow her refpecft, but — to fave the ex- 
 pence., 
 
 EPITAPHS. 
 
 ON A CELEBRATED RULING ELDER. 
 
 Here Sowter * * * * in Death does Deep ; 
 
 To H — 11, if he's gane thither, 
 Satan, gie him thy gear to keep. 
 
 He'll haud it weel thegither.
 
 ( 232 ) 
 ON A NOISY POLEMIC. 
 
 Below thir ftanes lie Jamie's banes ; 
 
 O Death, it's my opinion, 
 Thou ne'er took fuch a bleth'ran b — tch, 
 
 Into thy dark dominion ! 
 
 ON WEE JOHN IE. 
 
 Hie jacet wee yohnie. 
 
 Whoe'er thou art, O reader, know. 
 That Death has murder'd Johnie ; 
 
 An' here his body lies fu' low — 
 
 Y ox fa III he ne'er had ony. 
 
 FOR THE AUTHOR'S FATHER. 
 
 O ye whofe cheek the tear of pity ftains. 
 Draw near with pious rev'rence and attend! 
 
 Here lie the loving Hufband's dear remains, 
 The tender Father, and the gen'rous Friend.
 
 ( 233 ) 
 
 The pitying Heart that felt for human Woe; 
 The dauntlefs heart that fear'd no human 
 Pride ; 
 The Friend of Man, to vice alone a foe ; 
 ' For ev'n his failings lean'd to Virtue's 
 fide. * ' 
 
 FOR R. A. Efq; 
 
 Know thou, O ftranger to the fame 
 Of this much lov'd, much honor'd name ! 
 (For none that knew him need be told) 
 A warmer heart Death ne'er made cold. 
 
 FOR G. H. Efq; 
 
 The poor man weeps — here G N fleeps. 
 
 Whom canting wretches blam'd : 
 
 But Wixh/iich as he^ where'er he be. 
 
 May I be fav'd or d 'dl 
 
 F f 
 
 * Goldfmith.
 
 ( ^34 ) 
 
 A BARD'S EPITAPH. 
 
 "S there a whim-infpir'd fool, 
 Owre fail for thought, owre hot for rule, 
 Owre blate to feek, owre proud to fnool. 
 
 Let him draw near ; 
 And o'er this graffy heap fing dool, 
 
 And drap a tear. 
 
 * 
 
 Is there a Bard of ruftic fong. 
 Who, notelefs, fteals the crouds amone, 
 That weekly this area throng, 
 
 O, pafs not by ! 
 But with a frater-feeling ftrong. 
 
 Here, heave a figh. 
 
 Is there a man whofe judgment clear, 
 Can others teach the courfe to fteer. 
 Yet runs, himfelf, life's mad career. 
 
 Wild as the wave,
 
 ( ^35 ) 
 
 Here paufe — and thro' the ftarting tear, 
 
 Survey this grave. 
 
 The poor Inhabitant below 
 Was quick to learn and wife to know, 
 And keenly felt the friendly glow, 
 
 And JqflerJIame ; 
 But thoughtlefs follies laid him low. 
 
 And ftain'd his name ! 
 
 Reader attend — whether thv foul 
 Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole. 
 Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, 
 
 ' In low purfuit. 
 Know, prudent, C2i\x{\ou^^felf-controul 
 
 Is Wifdom's root. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 ( ^3^ ) 
 
 Lj L 
 
 S S A R Y. 
 
 Words that are univerfally known, and thofe 
 that differ from the EngUfh only by the elifion 
 of letters by apoftrophes,or by varying the ter- 
 mination of the verb, are not inferted. The 
 terminations may be thus known ; the parti- 
 ciple prefent, inftead of zV/^, ends, in the Scotch 
 Dialed, in an or in; in a7i, particularly, when 
 the verb is compofed of the participle prefent, 
 andanyofthetenfesof theauxiliary,/o/^^. The 
 paft time and participle pall are ufually made 
 by fhortening the ed into V. 
 
 A 
 
 ABACK, behind, away 
 Abiegh, at a diftance 
 Ae, one 
 
 Agley, wide of the aim 
 Aiver, an old horfe 
 Aizle, a red ember 
 Ane, one, an 
 Afe, aflies 
 Ava, at all, of all 
 Awn, the beard of oats, &c. 
 
 B 
 
 B 
 
 AI RAN, baring 
 Banie, bony 
 
 Bawf 'nt, having a white (tripe 
 
 down the face 
 Ben, tut and ben, the country 
 
 kitchen and parlour 
 Bellys, bellows 
 
 Bee, to let bee, to leave in quiet 
 Biggin, a building 
 •Bield, Hielter 
 Blaftet, worthlefs 
 Blather, the bladder 
 Blink, a glance, an amorous 
 
 leer, a (hort fpace of time 
 Blype, a fhred of cloth, &c. 
 Booft, behoved 
 Brafli, a fudden illnefs 
 Brat, a worn flired of Cloth 
 Brainge, to draw unfteadily
 
 ( 237 ) 
 
 Braxie, a morkin fheep -~ 
 
 Brogue, an affront 
 Breef, an invulnerable charm -- 
 Breaftet, fprung forward 
 Bumewin, q. d. burn the wind, 
 a Blackfmith. 
 
 CA', to call, to drive 
 Caup, a fmall, wooden 
 
 difh with two lugs, or handles • 
 Cape Ifane, cope {tone 
 Cairds, tinkers 
 Cairn, a loofe heap of ftones 
 Chuffie, fat-faced 
 Collie, a general and fome- 
 
 times a particular name for 
 
 countiy curs 
 Cog, or Coggie, a fmall wood- 
 en difh without handles 
 Cootie, a pretty large wooden 
 
 difli 
 Crack, converfation, to con- 
 
 verfe 
 Crank, a harfh, grating found 
 Crankous, fretting, peevifli 
 Croon, a hollow, continued 
 
 moan 
 Crowl, to creep 
 
 Crouchie, crook-backed J 
 
 Cranreuch, the hoar froft 
 Curpan, the crupper 
 Cummock, a fliort ftaff 
 
 D 
 
 T^ AUD, the noife of one 
 -*-^ falling flat, a large piece 
 
 of bread, &c. 
 Daut, to carefs, to fondle 
 Daimen, now and then, fcldom 
 Daurk, a day's labour 
 Deleeret, delirious 
 
 Dead-fweer, very loath, averfe 
 
 Dowie, crazy and dull 
 
 Donfie, unlucky, dangerous 
 
 Doylte, ftupiiied, hebetated 
 
 Dow, am able 
 
 Dought, was able 
 
 Doyte, to go drunkenly or flu- 
 
 pidly 
 Drummock, meal and water 
 
 mixed raw 
 Diomt, pet, pettifh humor 
 Dufh, to pufli as a bull, ram, &c. 
 Duds, rags of clothes 
 
 EERIE, frighted ; parti- 
 cularly the dread of fpi- 
 rits 
 Eldritch, fearful, horrid, 
 
 ghaftly 
 Eild, old age 
 Eydent, conftant, bufy 
 
 FA', fall, lot 
 Fawfont, decent, orderly 
 Faem, foam 
 
 Fatt'rels, ribband ends, &c. 
 Ferlie, a wonder, to wonder ; 
 
 alfo a term of contempt 
 Fecht, to fight 
 Fetch, to itop fuddenly in the 
 
 draught, and then come on 
 
 too haitily 
 Fier, found, healthy 
 Fittie Ian', the near hoi-fe of 
 
 the hindmoft pair in the 
 
 plough 
 Flunkies, livery fervants 
 Fley, to frighten 
 Flecfli, fleece 
 Fliflv, to fret at the yoke
 
 ( ^38 ) 
 
 Flichter, to flutter 
 
 Forbears, anceftors 
 
 Forby, befides 
 
 Forjeflcet, jaded 
 
 Fow, full, drunk; a bufliel, &c. 
 
 Freath, froath 
 
 Fuff, to blow intermittedly 
 
 Fyle, to dirty, to foil 
 
 GASH, wife, fagacious, 
 talkative; to converfe 
 Gate, or gaet, way, manner, 
 pradtice 
 '^ Gab, the mouth ; to fpeak boldly 
 •*' Gawfie, jolly, large 
 
 Geek, to tofs the head in pride 
 
 or wantonnefs 
 Gizz, a wig 
 Gilpey, a young girl 
 Glaizie, fmooth, glittering 
 Glunch, a frown ; to frown 
 Glint, to peep 
 
 Grufhie, of thick, ftout growth 
 Gruntle, the vifage ; a grunt- 
 ing noife 
 -~- Groufome, loathfomely grim 
 
 H 
 
 HAL, or hald, hold, bid- 
 ing place 
 
 Hafh, a term of contempt 
 "" Haverel, a quarter-wit 
 ""' Haurl, to drag, to peel 
 "" Hain, to fave, to fpare 
 
 Heugh, a crag, a coal-pit 
 
 Hecht, to forebode 
 
 Hiftie, dry, chapt, barren 
 ** Howe, hollow 
 
 Hofte or Hoaft, to cough 
 
 Howk, to dig 
 
 Hoddan, the motion of a fage 
 
 country farmer on an old 
 
 cart horfe 
 Houghmagandie, a fpecies of 
 
 gender compofed of the 
 
 mafculine and feminine u- 
 
 nited 
 Hoy, to urge inceffantly 
 Hoyte, a motion between a 
 
 trot and a^gallop 
 Hogfliouther, to juftle with 
 
 the fhoulder 
 
 IC K E R, an ear of corn 
 ler-oe, a great grand child 
 Ingine, genius 
 Ill-willie, malicious, unkind 
 
 J 
 
 J AUK, to dally at work 
 Jouk, to ftoop 
 Jodleleg, a kindof knife 
 Jundie, to juftle 
 
 K 
 
 KA E, a daw 
 %. Ket, a haiiy, ragged 
 fleece of wool 
 Kiutle, to cuddle, to carefs, to 
 
 fondle 
 Kiaugh, carking anxiety 
 Kirfen, to chriften 
 
 LAGGEN, the angle at 
 the bottom of a wood- 
 en difli 
 Laithfu', bafliful 
 Leeze me, a term of congra- 
 tulatory endearment
 
 ( 239 ) 
 
 difh 
 
 Leal, loyal, true 
 . - Loot, did let 
 -- Lowe, flame; to flame 
 4 Lunt, fmoke ; to fmoke 
 
 Limmer, a woman of 
 virtue 
 
 Link, to trip along 
 
 Lyart, grey 
 
 Luggie, a fmall, wooden 
 with one handle 
 
 M 
 
 MANTEELE, a mantle 
 Melvie, to foil with 
 
 meal 
 Menfe, good breeding : 
 
 Mell, to meddle with t, 
 
 Modewurk, a mole 
 Moop, to nibble as a flieep 
 Muflin kail, broth made up 
 
 fimply of water, barley and 
 
 greens 
 
 Penny-wheep, fmall beer 
 Pine, pain, care 
 Pirratch, or porritch, pottage 
 Pliflcie, trick 
 eafy Primfie, affectedly nice 
 Prief, proof 
 
 N 
 
 N 
 
 OWTE, black cattle 
 Nieve, the fift 
 
 o 
 
 Q 
 
 OW RE, over 
 Outler, lying in the 
 fields, not houfed at night 
 
 UAT, quit, did quit 
 Quaikin, quaking 
 
 R 
 
 RAMFEEZL'D, over- 
 fpent 
 Raep or rape, a rope 
 Raucle, ftout, clever 
 Raible, to repeat by rote 
 Ram-ftam, thoughtlefs 
 Raught, did reach 
 Reeftet, flirlvelled 
 Reeft, to be reftive 
 Reck, to take heed 
 Rede, counfel, to counfel 
 Ripp, a handful of unthreflied 
 
 corn, &c. 
 Rief, reaving 
 Rifle, to make a noife like the 
 
 breaking of fmall roots with 
 
 the plough 
 Rowt, to bellow 
 Roupct, hoarfe 
 Runkle, a wrinkle 
 Rockin, a meeting on a winter 
 
 evening 
 
 PACK, intimate, familiar, 
 Pang, to cram 
 Painch, the paunch 
 Paughty, proud, faucy 
 Pattlc or pettle, the plough- 
 
 (taff 
 Peghan, the crop of fowls, the 
 Itomach 
 
 SAIR, fore 
 Saunt, a faint 
 Scrimp, fcant ; to flint 
 Scricgh, to cry flirilly 
 Scricve, to run fmoothly and 
 
 fwiftly 
 Screed, to tear
 
 ( HO ) 
 
 Scawl, a Scold 
 
 Sconner, to loath 
 
 Sheen, bright 
 
 Shaw, a little wood ; to fliow 
 
 Shaver, a humorous mlf- 
 
 chievous wag 
 Skirl, a fhrill cry- 
 Sklent, to flant, to fib 
 Skiegh, mettlefome, fiery, 
 proud -- 
 
 Slype, to fall over like a wet 
 
 furrow 
 Smeddum, powder of any kind 
 Smytrie, a numerous colledion 
 
 of fmall individuals 
 Snick-drawing, trick-contriv- 
 ing 
 Snafli, abufive language 
 Sowther, to cement, to folder 
 Splore, a ramble 
 Spunkie, fiery ; will o' wifp 
 Spairge, to fpurt about like wa- 
 ter or mire, to foil 
 Sprittie, rufhy 
 Squatter, to flutter in water 
 Staggie, diminutive of Stag 
 Steeve, firm 
 
 Stank, a pool of {landing water 
 Stroan, to pour out like a fpout 
 Stegh, to cram the belly 
 Stibble-rig, the reaper who 
 
 takes the lead 
 Sten, to rear as a horfe 
 Swith, get away 
 Syne, fince, ago, then 
 
 Tarrow, to murmur at one's 
 allowance 
 
 Thowlefs, flack, pithlefs 
 
 Thack an' raep, all kinds of 
 neceflaries, particularly 
 
 clothes 
 
 Thowe, thaw 
 
 Tirl, to knock gently, to un- 
 cover 
 
 Toyte, to walk like old age 
 
 Trafhtrie, trafli 
 
 W 
 
 WAUKET, thickened 
 as fullers do cloth 
 Water-kelpies, a fort of mif- 
 
 chievous fpirits that are faid 
 
 to haunt fords, &c. 
 Water-brofe, brofe made fim- 
 
 ply of meal and water 
 Wauble, to fwing 
 Wair, to lay out, to fpend 
 Whaizle, to wheez 
 Whifl<, to fweep 
 Wintle, a wavering, Rvinging 
 
 motion 
 Wiel, a fmall whirlpool 
 Winze, an oath 
 Wonner, wonder, a term of 
 
 contempt 
 Wooer-bab, the garter knotted 
 
 below the knee with a couple 
 
 of loops and ends 
 Wrack, to vex, to trouble 
 
 TAPETLESS, unthink- 
 ing 
 Tawie, that handles quietly 
 ■y* Tawted, or tawtet, matted to- 
 gether 
 -> Taet, a fmall quantity 
 
 YELL, dry, fpoken of a 
 cow 
 Ye, is frequently ufed for the 
 
 fingular 
 Young-guidman, a new mar- 
 ried man
 
 date stamped below 
 
 B 
 
 iUt3 1 
 
 5m-6,'41(3644) 
 
 PR 
 
 4300 Burns « 
 
 1869 Poems. 
 
 K55 
 
 PR 
 
 4300 
 1869 
 K55
 
 366 697 / 
 
 EX LIBRIS - JOHN GRIBBtL 
 
 ST- AUSTELL HALL