ON A COUNTRY LAIRD

On Chloris

Requesting me to give her a Sprig of Blossomed
Thorn.1

FROM the white-blossom'd sloe my dear Chloris requested
A sprig, her fair breast to adorn :

No, by Heavens! I exclaim'd, let me perish, if ever
I plant in that bosom a thorn!

On seeing Mrs Kemble in Yarico.2

KEMBLE, thou cur'st my unbelief

Of Moses and his rod;

At Yarico's sweet note of grief
The rock with tears had flow'd.

Epigram on a country Laird,

not quite so wise as Solomon.s

BLESS Jesus Christ, O Cardoness,
With grateful, lifted eyes,
Who taught that not the soul alone,
But body too shall rise;

For had He said "the soul alone
From death I will deliver,"
Alas, alas! O Cardoness,

Then hadst thou lain for ever.

1 One of seventeen scraps sent by Burns to Creech the publisher.

2 Another of the seventeen. Kemble played in Inkle and Yarico.

Mrs

8 The victim was Maxwell of Car. doness.

ON AN INNKEEPER

On being shewn a beautiful country Seat

Belonging to the same Laird.1

WE grant they're thine, those beauties all,
So lovely in our eye;

Keep them, thou eunuch, Cardoness,
For others to enjoy!

On hearing it asserted Falsehood

is expressed in the Rev. Dr Babington's very looks. THAT there is a falsehood in his looks,

I must and will deny :

They tell their Master is a knave,

And sure they do not lie.

On a Suicide.

EARTH'D up, here lies an imp o' hell,
Planted by Satan's dibble;

Poor silly wretch, he's damned himsel',
To save the Lord the trouble.

On a Swearing Coxcomb.

HERE cursing, swearing Burton lies,
A buck, a beau, or "Dem my eyes!"
Who in his life did little good,

And his last words were 66 Dem my

blood!"

On an Innkeeper nicknamed "the Marquis."

HERE lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm'd, If ever he rise, it will be to be damn'd.

1 It is a pity that these things must be included among poems.

ESTEEM FOR CHLORIS

On Andrew Turner.

IN se'enteen hunder 'n forty-nine,
The deil gat stuff to mak a swine,
An' coost it in a corner;
But wilily he chang'd his plan,
An' shap'd it something like a man,
An' ca'd it Andrew Turner.

Pretty Peg.1

As I gaed up by yon gate-end,
When day was waxin weary,
Wha did I meet come down the street,
But pretty Peg, my dearie!

Her air sae sweet, an' shape complete,
Wi' nae proportion wanting,
The Queen of Love did never move
Wi' motion mair enchanting.

Wi' linked hands we took the sands,
Adown yon winding river;

Oh, that sweet hour and shady bower,
Forget it shall I never!

Esteem for Chloris.2

AH, Chloris, since it may not be,
That thou of love wilt hear;
If from the lover thou maun flee,
Yet let the friend be dear.

1 Of not very certain authorship.

2 Esteem for Miss Lorimer may have been a genuine sentiment.

HOW LANG AND DREARY

Altho' I love my Chloris mair
Than ever tongue could tell;
My passion I will ne'er declare-
I'll say, I wish thee well.

Tho' a' my daily care thou art,
And a' my nightly dream,
I'll hide the struggle in my heart,
And say it is esteem.

Saw ye my Dear, my Philly.1

Tune-"When she cam' ben she bobbit."

O SAW ye my Dear, my Philly?
O saw ye my Dear, my Philly,

She's down i' the grove, she's wi' a new Love,
She winna come hame to her Willy.

What says she my dear, my Philly?
What says she my dear, my Philly?
She lets thee to wit she has thee forgot,
And forever disowns thee, her Willy.

O had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly!
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly!
As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
Thou's broken the heart o' thy Willy.

How Lang and Dreary is the Night.2

How lang and dreary is the night
When I am frae my Dearie;

I restless lie frae e'en to morn
Though I were ne'er sae weary.

1 Omitted, not unjustly, by Thomson from his musical publication.

2 Chloris is celebrated to the tune of Cauld Kail in Aberdeen.

INCONSTANCY IN LOVE

Chorus.-For oh, her lanely nights are lang!
And oh, her dreams are eerie;

And oh, her widow'd heart is sair,
That's absent frae her Dearie !

When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my Dearie;
And now what seas between us roar,
How can I be but eerie ?
For oh, &c.

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
The joyless day how dreary:
It was na sae ye glinted by,
When I was wi' my Dearie !
For oh, &c.

Inconstancy in Love.1

Tune-"Duncan Gray."

LET not Woman e'er complain
Of inconstancy in love;
Let not Woman e'er complain
Fickle Man is apt to rove:
Look abroad thro' Nature's range,
Nature's mighty Law is change,
Ladies, would it not seem strange
Man should then a monster prove!

Mark the winds, and mark the skies,
Ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow,
Sun and moon but set to rise,
Round and round the seasons go.
Why then ask of silly Man
To oppose great Nature's plan?
We'll be constant while we can→

You can be no more you know.

"I have been at Duncan Gray to dress it in English, but all I can do is

deplorably stupid," Burns writes to Thomson (Oct. 19, 1794).