The gentleman in word and deed,
It's no thro' terror of damnation :
It's just a carnal inclination.
Morality! thou deadly bane,
Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain!
Vain is his hope, whose stay and trust is
In moral mercy, truth, and justice!
No-stretch a point to catch a plack;
Abuse a brother to his back;
Steal thro' a winnock' frae a whore,
But point the rake that takes the door;
Be to the poor like onie whunstane,2
And haud their noses to the grunstane ;3
Ply every art o' legal thieving;
No matter-stick to sound believing.
Learn three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces,
Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang wry faces,
Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan,
And damn a' parties but your own;
I'll warrant then, ye 're nae deceiver,
A steady, sturdy, stanch believer.
O ye wha leave the springs of Calvin,
For gumlie dubs of your ain delvin'!
Ye sons of heresy and error,
Ye'll some day squeel' in quakin' terror!
When Vengeance draws the sword in wrath,
And in the fire throws the sheath;
When Ruin with his sweeping besom,
Just frets till Heaven commission gies him:
While o'er the harp pale Misery moans,
And strikes the ever-deepening tones,
Still louder shrieks, and heavier groans!
Your pardon, Sir, for this digression.
I maist forgat my dedication!
But when divinity comes 'cross ine,
My readers still are sure to lose me.
So, Sir, ye see 'twas nae daft vapor,
But I maturely thought it proper,
When a' my works I did review,
To dedicate them, Sir, to You;
Window.-2 A hard rock stone-3 Grindstone-4 Hands.- Muddy.A small pond.-7 Scream.-8 Almost.-9 Foolish.
Because (ye needna tak it ill)
I thought them something like yoursel.
Then patronize them wi' your favor,
And your petitioner shall ever—
I had amaist said, ever pray,
But that's a word I needna say:
For prayin' I hae little skill o't;
I'm baith dead-sweer1 an' wretched ill o't;
But I 'se repeat each poor man's prayer,
That kens or hears about you, Sir:-
"May ne'er misfortune's growling bark
Howl thro' the dwelling o' the Clerk!
May ne'er his generous, honest heart,
For that same generous spirit smart:
May Kennedy's far-honor'd fame,
Lang beet his hymeneal flame,
Till Hamiltons, at least a dizen,
Are frae their nuptial labors risen:
Five bonnie lasses round their table,
And seven braw fellows, stout an' able
To serve their king and country weel,
By word, or pen, or pointed steel!
May health and peace, with mutual rays,
Shine on the evening o' his days;
Till his wee curlie John's ier-oe,"
When ebbing life nae mair shall flow,
The last, sad mournful rites bestow!"
I will not wind a lang conclusion,
Wi' complimentary effusion:
But whilst your wishes and endeavors
Are blest wi' Fortune's smiles and favors,
I am, dear Sir, with zeal most fervent,
Your much indebted, humble servant.
But if (which Powers above prevent!)
That iron-hearted carl, Want,
Attended in his grim advances,
By sad mistakes and black mischances,
While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him,
Make you as poor a dog as
Your humble servant then no more;
For who would humbly serve the poor?
1 Averse.-2 Add fuel to.-3 Great-grandchild
But, by a poor man's hopes in Heaven!
While recollection's power is given,
If, in the vale of humble life,
The victim sad of Fortune's strife,
I, thro' the tender gushing tear,
Should recognize my master dear,
If, friendless, low, we meet together,
Then, Sir, your hand-my friend and brother!
TO THE SAME,
(Recommending a bɔy.)
I HOLD it, Sir, my bounden duty
To warn you how that Master Tootie,
Alias, Laird M'Gaun,1
Was here to hire yon lad away
'Bout whom ye spak the tither day,
An' wad hae done 't aff han':2
But lest he learn the callan3 tricks,
As faith I muckle doubt him,
Like scrapin' out auld crummie'sa nicks,
An' tellin' lies about them;
As lieves then I'd have then,
Your clerkship he should sair,"
If sae be, ye may be
Not fitted otherwhere.
Altho' I say 't, he's gleg enough,
An' bout a house that's rude an' rough,
The boy might learn to swear;
But then wi' you, he'll be sae taught,
An' get sic fair example straught,
I hae na ony fear.
Ye'll catechise him every quirk,
An' shore him weel wi' hell;
'Master Tootie then lived in Mauchline; a dealer in cows. It was his common practice to cut the nicks or markings from the horns of cattle, to disguise their age. He was an artful, trick-contriving character; hence he is called a snick-drawer. In the Poet's "Address to the Deil," he styles that august personage an auld, snick-drawing dog!-Reliques, p. 397.
2 Off hand.-3 Boy.-4 Old cow.-5 Rather.-6 Serve.-7 Sharp.-8 Threaten
An' gar him follow to the kirk.
-Ay when ye gang yoursel.
If ye then, maun be then
Frae hame this comin' Friday,
Then please, Sir, to lea'e, Sir,
The orders wi' your lady.
My word of honor I hae gien,
In Paisley John's, that night at e'en,
To meet the Warld's worm;
To try to get the twa to gree,1
An' name the airles' an' the fee,
In legal mode an' form:
I ken he weel a snick can draw,
When simple bodies let him;
An' if a Devil be at a',
In faith he's sure to get him.
To phrase you an' praise you,
Ye ken your Laureat scorns:
The prayer still, you share still,
Of grateful Minstrel Burns.
TO ROBERT GRAHAM, ESQ, OF FINTRA. WHEN Nature her great master-piece design'd, And framed her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all the mazy plan,
She form'd of various parts the various man.
Then first she calls the useful many forth:
Plain, plodding industry, and sober worth:
Thence peasants, farmers, native sons of earth,
And merchandise' whole genus take their birth.
Each prudent cit a warm existence finds,
And all mechanics' many-apron'd kinds.
Some other rarer sorts are wanted yet,
The lead and buoy are needful to the net:
The caput mortuum of gross desires
Makes a material for mere knights and squires;
The martial phosphorus is taught to flow,
She kneads the lumpish, philosophic dough,
1 Agree.-2 Earnest money.
Then marks the unyielding mass with grave designs,
Law, physic, politics, and deep divines:
Last, she sublimes the Aurora of the poles,
The flashing elements of female souls.
The order'd system fair before her stood,
Nature, well-pleased, pronounced it very good;
But here she gave creating labor o'er,
Half-jest, she tried one curious labor more.
Some spumy, fiery ignis fatuus matter;
Such as the slightest breath of air might scatter;
With arch-alacrity and conscious glee
(Nature may have her whim as well as we,
Her Hogarth-art perhaps she meant to show it)
She forms the thing, and christens it—a Poet.
Creature, tho' oft the prey of care and sorrow,
When blest to-day unmindful of to-morrow.
A being form'd to amuse his graver friends,
Admired and praised-and there the homage ends;
A mortal quite unfit for Fortune's strife,
Yet oft the sport of all the ills of life;
Prone to enjoy each pleasure riches give,
Yet haply wanting wherewithal to live;
Longing to wipe each tear, to heal each groan,
Yet freqent all unheeded in his own.
But honest Nature is not quite a Turk;
She laugh'd at first, then felt for her poor work:
Pitying the propless climber of mankind,
She cast about a standard-tree to find;
And, to support his helpless woodbine state,
Attach'd him to the generous truly great-
A title, and the only one I claim,
To lay strong hold for help on bounteous Graham.
Pity the tuneful Muses' hapless train,
Weak, timid landsmen on life's stormy main!
Their hearts no selfish, stern, absorbent stuff,
That never gives-though humbly takes enough;
The little fate allows, they share as soon,
Unlike sage, proverb'd Wisdom's hard-wrung boon.
The world were blest did bliss on them depend:
Ah! that the friendly e'er should want a friend!
Let prudence number o'er each sturdy son,
Who life and wisdom at one race begun,
Who feel by reason, and who give by rule,
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