in 1162. They were distinguished in the border-wars; and Alexander, the fifth Earl, a warrior, a poet, and a reformer, was one of the most active of the leaders of the Congregation, and undertook and accomplished some hazardous enterprises. Another of the line resisted with much gallantry the English under the Parliamentary leaders, and obtained the praise of Clarendon. The family, never rich, became very poor, and one of the Earls married a musician's daughter, with a handsome fortune. A son of this marriage, tradition says, was at a ball in Edinburgh, when a dispute arose between him and one of the Kennedys of Cassillis, regarding a suitable tune for the dance.-"I wish," said Cassillis, "that we had your grandfather here; he was skilful, I have heard."-"Yes," retorted Glencairn," he excelled all the west in playing Johnny Faa." A duel was the consequence.

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Burns mourned the death of the Earl with melancholy sincerity." As all the world knows,” he says to Lady E. Cunningham, 'my obligations to the late Earl of Glencairn, I would wish to show as openly that my heart glows, and shall ever glow, with the most grateful sense and remembrance of his Lordship's goodness. The sables I did myself the honour to wear to his Lordship's memory were not the mockery of woe.' Nor shall my gratitude perish with me. If, among my children, I shall have a son that has a heart, he shall hand it down to his child as a family honour, and a family debt, that my dearest existence I owe to the noble house of Glencairn." One of the Poet's sons, now a captain in the service of the East India Company, was baptized James Glencairn, after his beloved patron.

LINES

SENT TO

SIR JOHN WHITEFOORD, BART., OF WHITE

FOORD,

WITH THE FOREGOING POEM.

THOU, who thy honour as thy God rever❜st, Who, save thy mind's reproach, nought earthly fear'st,

To thee this votive offering I impart,

The tearful tribute of a broken heart.

The friend thou valued'st, I, the patron, lov'd ;
His worth, his honour, all the world approv'd.
We'll mourn till we too go as he has gone,

And tread the dreary path to that dark world unknown.

Sir John Whitefoord interested himself in the fortunes of Burns soon after the appearance of the first edition of his poems; for this the Poet was indebted to the active kindness of Dr. Mackenzie, who is still living to remember-and with silent pleasure-that he promoted his interest, spread his fame, and defended his character, in days when friends were few, and his great merits were unknown beyond the limits of Kyle. It is true that Burns, in one of his letters, attributes his notice to the spontaneous impulse of Sir John's own heart; but it is no less true that Mackenzie smoothed the way.

ADDRESS

то

THE SHADE OF THOMSON,

ON CROWNING HIS BUST AT EDNAM, ROXBURGHSHIRE, WITH BAYS.

WHILE virgin Spring, by Eden's flood,
Unfolds her tender mantle green,

Or pranks the sod in frolic mood,

Or tunes Eolian strains between :

While Summer with a matron grace
Retreats to Dryburgh's cooling shade,

Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace
The progress of the spiky blade :

While Autumn, benefactor kind,
By Tweed erects his aged head,
And sees, with self-approving mind,
Each creature on his bounty fed:

While maniac Winter rages o'er

The hills whence classic Yarrow flows,

Rousing the turbid torrent's roar,

Or sweeping, wild, a waste of snows:

So long, sweet Poet of the year!

Shall bloom that wreath thou well hast won;

While Scotia, with exulting tear,

Proclaims that Thomson was her son.

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Lord Buchan has the pleasure to invite Mr. Burns to make one at the coronation of the bust of Thomson, on Ednam Hill, on the 22d of September; for which day perhaps his muse may inspire an ode suited to the occasion. Suppose Mr. Burns should, leaving the Nith, go across the country, and meet the Tweed at the nearest point from his farm, and, wandering along the pastoral banks of Thomson's pure parent stream, catch inspiration in the devious walk, till he finds Lord Buchan sitting on the ruins of Dryburgh. There the Commendator will give him a hearty welcome, and try to light his lamp at the pure flame of native genius, upon the altar of Caledonian virtue." To request the Poet to lay down his sickle when his harvest was half reaped, and traverse one of the wildest and most untrodden ways in Scotland, for the purpose of looking at the fantastic coronation of the bad bust of an excellent poet, was worthy of the Earl of Buchan. The poor bard made answer, that a week's absence in the middle of his harvest was a step he durst not venture upon-but he sent this poem

The Poet's manuscript affords the following interest ing variations:

"While cold-eyed Spring, a virgin coy,

Unfolds her verdant mantle sweet.

Or pranks the sod in frolic joy,

A carpet for her youthful feet:

"While Summer, with a matron's grace,
Walks stately in the cooling shade,

And oft delighted loves to trace
The progress of the spiky blade:

"While Autumn, benefactor kind,
With age's hoary honours clad,
Surveys, with self-approving mind,
Each creature on his bounty fed."

ΤΟ

ROBERT GRAHAM, ESQ.

OF FINTRAY.

LATE crippl'd of an arm, and now a leg,
About to beg a pass for leave to beg:
Dull, listless, teas'd, dejected, and deprest,
(Nature is adverse to a cripple's rest);
Will generous Graham list to his Poet's wail?
(It soothes poor misery, hearkening to her tale),
And hear him curse the light he first survey'd,
And doubly curse the luckless rhyming trade?

Thou, Nature, partial Nature! I arraign;
Of thy caprice maternal I complain.

The lion and the bull thy care have found,
One shakes the forests, and one spurns the ground:
Thou giv'st the ass his hide, the snail his shell,
Th' envenom'd wasp, victorious, guards his cell;
Thy minions, kings, defend, control, devour,
In all th' omnipotence of rule and power;
Foxes and statesmen, subtile wiles insure ;
The cit and polecat stink, and are secure ;
Toads with their poison, doctors with their drug,
The priest and hedgehog in their robes are snug;
Ev'n silly woman has her warlike arts,

Her tongue and eyes, her dreaded spear and darts ;