LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN

PART OF LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF
GLENCAIRN 1

THE wind blew hollow frae the hills,
By fits the sun's departing beam
Look'd on the fading yellow woods,

That wav'd o'er Lugar's winding stream:

Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard,

Laden with years and meikle pain,

In loud lament bewail'd his lord,

Whom Death had all untimely taen.

'And last (the sum of a' my griefs!)
My noble master lies in clay;
The flow'r amang our barons bold,

His country's pride, his country's stay:

In weary being now I pine,

For a' the life of life is dead,

And hope has left my aged ken,
On forward wing for ever fled.

'Awake thy last sad voice, my harp!
The voice of woe and wild despair!
Awake, resound thy latest lay,

Then sleep in silence evermair!

1 The kindest of the patrons of Burns.

And thou, my last, best, only friend,
That fillest an untimely tomb,
Accept this tribute from the Bard

Thou brought from Fortune's mirkest gloom.

'The bridegroom may forget the bride
Was made his wedded wife yestreen;
The monarch may forget the crown
That on his head an hour has been;
The mother may forget the child

That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,
And a' that thou has done for me!'

EPISTLE TO REV. JOHN McMATH

EPISTLE TO REV. JOHN MCMATH

He was a leader among the "new lights" in the church. This epistle was an attack on the "auld lights," especially on Rev. William Auld of Mauchline, and his elder, "Holy Willie," William Fisher.

I own 'twas rash, an' rather hardy,
That I, a simple, country bardie,
Shou'd meddle wi' a pack sae sturdy,
Wha, if they ken me,

Can easy, wi' a single wordie,
Louse h-11 upon me.

But I gae mad at their grimaces,

Their sighin' cantin', grace-proud faces,
Their three-mile prayers, an' half-mile graces,
Their raxin conscience,

Whase greed, revenge, and pride disgraces
Waur nor their nonsense.

There's Gaw'n1 misca'd waur than a beast,
Wha has mair honour in his breast

Than mony scores as guid's the priest
Wha sae abused him:

And may a bard no crack his jest

What way they've us'd him?

1 Gavin Hamilton, a fine man in Mauchline. He was a leader among

the laymen who were "new lights," or progressives in theology.

See him, the poor man's friend in need.
The gentleman in word an' deed—
An' shall his fame an' honour bleed
By worthless skellums,

An' not a muse erect her head

To cowe the blellums?

O Pope, had I thy satire's darts
To gie the rascals their deserts,
I'd rip their rotten, hollow hearts,
An' tell aloud

Their jugglin' hocus-pocus arts

To cheat the crowd.

God knows, I'm no the thing I shou'd be,
Nor am I even the thing I cou'd be,
But twenty times I rather would be
An atheist clean,

Than under gospel colours hid be
Just for a screen.

They take religion in their mouth;
They talk o' mercy, grace, an' truth,
For what? to gie their malice skouth
On some puir wight,

An' hunt him down, owre right and ruth.
To ruin streicht.

Burns esteemed Rev. John McMath very highly as a leader among the "new light" theologians of his time.