Address to the Unco Guid,
Or the Rigidly Righteous.1
My Son, these maxims make a rule,
An' lump them aye thegither;
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
The Rigid Wise anither:
The cleanest corn that ere was dight"
May hae some pyles o' caff in ;
So ne'er a fellow-creature slight
For random fits o' daffin."
SOLOMON.-Eccles. ch. vii. verse 16.
O YE wha are sae guid yoursel',
Sae pious and sae holy,
Ye've nought to do but mark and tell
Your neibours' fauts and folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supplied wi' store o' water;
The heaped happer's ebbing still,
An' still the clap plays clatter.
Hear me, ye venerable core,
As counsel for poor mortals
That frequent pass douce Wisdom's door
For glaikit Folly's portals:
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences-
Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings and mischances.
Ye see your state wi' theirs compared,
And shudder at the niffer1;
But cast a moment's fair regard,
What maks the mighty differs?
1 A favourite morality of Burns. The piece first appears in the Edinburgh edition.
Discount what scant occasion gave,
That purity ye pride in ;
And (what's aft mair than a' the lave*)
Your better art o' hidin.
Think, when your castigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop!
What ragings must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallop!
Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;
But in the teeth o' baith to sail,
It maks a unco lee-way.
See Social Life and Glee sit down,
All joyous and unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrified, they're grown
Debauchery and Drinking:
O would they stay to calculate
Th' eternal consequences;
Or your more dreaded hell to state,
Damnation of expenses !
Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,
Tied up in godly laces,
Before ye gie poor Frailty names,
Suppose a change o' cases;
A dear-lov'd lad, convenience snug,
A treach'rous inclination-
But, let me whisper i' your lug,
Ye're aiblins nae temptation.
Then gently scan your brother man,
Still gentler sister woman;
Tho' they may gang a kennin© wrang,
To step aside is human:
One point must still be greatly dark,-
The moving Why they do it;
And just as lamely can ye mark,
How far perhaps they rue it.
Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;
He knows each chord, its various tone,
Each spring, its various bias:
Then at the balance let's be mute,
We never can adjust it;
What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's resisted.
In Answer to a Mandate by the Surveyor
of the Taxes.
SIR, as your mandate did request,
I send you here a faithfu' list,
O' gudes an' gear, an' a' my graith,"
To which I'm clear to gi'e my aith.
Imprimis, then, for carriage cattle,
I hae four brutes o' gallant mettle,
As ever drew before a pettle.b
My hand-afore"'s a guid auld 'has been,'
An' wight an' wilfu' a' his days been:
My hand-ahin's a weel gaun fillie,
That aft has borne me hame frae Killie,
An' your auld borough mony a time
In days when riding was nae crime.
1 A poem of 1786. Sent by Burns to Aiken, the tax collector, as the verses declare.
The various copies show a large number of minute variations. In lines 8 and 10 Stewart has "lan' afore" and "lan' ahin'." Currie omits lines 14-19
b plough-stick,
("But ance..
others noted below.
2 The fore-horse on the left-hand in the plough.-R.B.
3 The hindmost on the left-hand in the plough.-R.B.
4 Kilmarnock.-R.B.
But ance, when in my wooing pride
I, like a blockhead, boost to ride,
The wilfu' creature sae I pat to,
(L-d pardon a' my sins, an' that too!)
I play'd my fillie sic a shavie,b
She's a' bedevil'd wi' the spavie.
My furr-ahin 1's a wordy beast,
As e'er in tug or tow was traced.
The fourth's a Highland Donald hastie,
A d-n'd red-wudd Kilburnie blastic!
Foreby a cowt, o' cowts the wale,'
As ever ran before a tail:
Gin he be spar'd to be a beast,
He'll draw me fifteen pund at least.
Wheel-carriages I ha'e but few,
Three carts, an' twa are fecklys new;
An auld wheelbarrow, mair for token,
Ae leg an' baith the trams are broken;
I made a poker o' the spin'le,
An' my auld mither brunt the trin'le.1
For men, I've three mischievous boys,
Run-deils for ranting an' for noise;
A gaudsman ane, a thrasher t' other:
Wee Davock hauds the nowt' in fother.
I rule them as I ought, discreetly,
An' aften labour them completely;
An' aye on Sundays duly, nightly,
I on the "Questions" targem them tightly;
Till, faith! wee Davock's grown sae gleg,"
Tho' scarcely langer than your leg,
He'll screed you aff Effectual calling,'
As fast as ony in the dwalling.
I've nane in female servant station,
(L-d keep me aye frae a' temptation!)
out-and-out devils.goads-man (for a team of oxen.) • rattle.
1 The hindmost-horse on the right-hand in the plough.-R.B.
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