The pith o' sense and pride o' worth Then let us pray that come it may, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, It's comin' yet for a' that, That man to man, the world 2 o'er, To a Mountain Daisy. Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet, When upward springing, blythe, to greet Cauld blew the bitter-biting North Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth I never saw a fairer, I never lo'ed a dearer, And neist1 my heart I'll wear her, She is a winsome wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine. Epistle to a Young Friend. I lang hae thought, my youthfu’ friend, But how the subject-theme may gang,5 Ye'll try the world soon, my lad, And muckle they may grieve ye: I'll no say men are villains a'; The real, hardened wicked Wha hae nae check but human law But, och! mankind are unco weak, If self the wavering balance shake, 1 Next. 2 To lose. 3 Trouble. 4 Struggle. 5 Go. * Strange crew. Yet they wha fa" in fortune's strife, Yet hae nae cash to spare him. Aye free, aff-han',3 your story tell, But keek thro' ev'ry other man The sacred lowe o' weel-plac'd love, But never tempt th' illicit rove, To catch Dame Fortune's golden smile And gather gears by ev'ry wile That's justified by honor: Nor for a train attendant, The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip Its slightest touches, instant pause Debar a' side pretences; The great Creator to revere Must sure become the creature: Yet ne'er with wits profane to range An atheist laugh's a poor exchange When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded; Or, if she gie2 a random sting, It may be little minded; But when on life we're tempest-driv'n,—- A correspondence fix'd wi' Heav'n Adieu, dear, amiable youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting! May prudence, fortitude, and truth In ploughman phrase, God send you speed," Still daily to grow wiser; And may ye better reck the rede Then ever did th' Adviser! Highland Mary. Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery! Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie: 6 There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel 1 Courtesy. 2 Give. Without. Success. 5 Heed the advice. Muddy. 7 Summer. |