VERSES ADDRESSED TO THE LANDLADY OF THE INN AT ROSSLYN. My blessings on you, sonsie wife ; I ne'er was here before; You've gien us walth for horn and knife, Heaven keep you free frae care and strife, And, while I toddle on through life, ON ELPHINSTONE'S TRANSLATION OF MARTIAL'S "EPIGRAMS." "STOPPING at a merchant's shop in Edinburgh," says Burns, "a friend of mine one day put Elphinstone's translation of Martial into my hand, and desired my opinion of it. I asked permission to write my opinion on a blank leaf of the book; which being granted, I wrote this epigram." O THOU, whom Poesy abhors! Whom Prose has turned out of doors! Heard'st thou that groan?-proceed no further- INNOCENCE. Innocence Looks gaily-smiling on; while rosy Pleasure LINES WRITTEN ON A PANE OF GLASS IN THE INN AT MOFFAT. WHILE Burns was in the inn at Moffat, the heroine, the "charming, lovely Davies," of one of his songs happened to pass in the company of a tall and portly lady, and on a friend asking him why God had made Miss Davies so small and the other lady so large, he replied Ask why God made the gem so small, LINES SPOKEN EXTEMPORE ON BEING APPOINTED TO THE EXCISE. SEARCHING auld wives' barrels, That clarty barm should stain my laurels ; These movin' things ca'd wives and weans EPITAPH ON W—. STOP, thief! Dame Nature cried to Death, ON A PERSON NICKNAMED THE MARQUIS. TO JOHN M'MURDO, ESQ. JOHN M'MURDO, steward to the Duke of Queensberry. OH, could I give thee India's wealth Because thy joy in both would be To share them with a friend. But golden sands did never grace The Heliconian stream; Then take what gold could never buy- An honest bard's esteem. TO THE SAME. Blest be M'Murdo to his latest day! + No wrinkle furrow'd by the hand of Care, ON CAPTAIN FRANCIS GROSE. CAPTAIN GROSE being in the company of the poet on a convivial occasion, and in the full enjoyment of his humorous sallies, begged a few lines on himself. Scanning the huge corporation of the genial antiquary with his eye, he repeated the following lines: THE devil got notice that Grose was a-dying, So whip at the summons old Satan came flying; But when he approach'd where poor Francis lay moaning, ON GRIZZEL GRIM. HERE lies with Death auld Grizzel Grim, O Death, how horrid is thy taste To lie with such a bitch! ON MR. BURTON. A CASUAL acquaintance of the poet's, Mr. Burton, a young Englishman, became very pressing that he should write his epitaph. "In vain," says Cunningham, "the bard objected that he was not sufficiently acquainted with his character and habits to qualify him for the task; the request was constantly repeated with a 'Dem my eyes, Burns, do write an epitaph for me: oh, dem my blood, do, Burns, write an epitaph for me.' Overcome by his importunity, Burns at last took out his pencil and produced the following:" HERE cursing, swearing Burton lies, A buck, a beau, or Dem my eyes! And his last words were-Dem my blood! POETICAL REPLY TO AN INVITATION. THE king's most humble servant, I TO THE EDITOR OF THE STAR. "BURNS at one period," says Cunningham, was in the habit of receiving the Star newspaper gratuitiously; but as it came somewhat irregularly to hand, he sent the following lines to head-quarters, to insure more punctuality :' DEAR Peter, dear Peter, ON BURNS'S HORSE BEING IMPOUNDED. WHEN in Carlisle, Burns's horse was impounded for trespassing on some grounds belonging to the corporation. On being made acquainted with the circumstances, the mayor gave orders that it should be liberated at once, saying,-"Let him have it, by all means, or the circumstance will be heard of for ages to come." As the following verse was then written, the mayor's prophecy has come true. WAS e'er puir poet sae befitted, The maister drunk-the horse committed? Puir harmless beast! tak thee nae care, Thou'lt be a horse when he's nae mair (mayor). LINES SENT TO A GENTLEMAN WHOM HE HAD OFFENDED. THE gentleman was Mr. Riddel of Woodley Park, at whose table, while under the influence of wine, he had been guilty of an undue freedom of speech. The apology and reparation made in the following verses were warmly accepted : THE friend whom wild from wisdom's way The fumes of wine infuriate send; (Not moony madness more astray;) Who but deplores that hapless friend? Mine was the insensate frenzied part! Ah! why should I such scenes outlive! Scenes so abhorrent to my heart! VERSES TO JOHN RANKINE. ON HIS WRITING TO THE POET THAT A GIRL IN THAT PART OF THE COUNTRY WAS WITH CHILD BY HIM. I AM a keeper of the law In some sma' points, although not a'; S Some people tell me gin I fa', Ae way or ither, The breaking of ae point, though sma', I hae been in for't ance or twice, But now a rumour's like to rise, A whaup's i' the nest. ON SEEING MISS FONTENELLE IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER. SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, Spurning nature, torturing art, Loves and graces all rejected, Then indeed thou'dst act a part. ON GABRIEL RICHARDSON, BREWER, DUMFRIES. HERE brewer Gabriel's fire's extinct, And empty all his barrels : He's blest-if, as he brew'd, he drink- THE BLACK-HEADED EAGLE: A FRAGMENT ON THE DEFEAT OF THE AUSTRIANS BY DUMOURIER, AT GEMAPPE, NOVEMBER 1792. |