Here mettled men my muse maintain, Which keeps me canty, brisk, and bein, And a sworn fae to hatefu' spleen, And a' that's sour. But bide ye, boy, the main's to say; Divinely bonny, great and gay, Of thinking even, Whase words, and looks, and smiles, display Full views of heaven: To rummage nature for what's braw, Her beauties, she excels them a', As fair a form as e'er was blest Whose virtues place her with the best O sonsy Gay! this heavenly born, And bless the day that ye was born She says thy sonnet smoothly sings, Sae ye may craw and clap your wings, And smile at ethercapit stings, With careless pride, When sae much wit and beauty brings Lilt up your pipes, and rise aboon In towring strains, Till gratefu' gods cry out, "Well done!" And praise thy pains. Exalt thy voice, that all around May echo back the lovely sound, Where northward no more Britain's found, Thus sing;-whilst I frae Arthur's height, Frae coach and sax baith trim and tight, But lang I'll gove and bleer my ee, And streek my limbs down easylie There sing the gowans, broom, and trees, Wha rant and dance, with kiltit dees, Farewell;-but ere we part, let's pray, Nae mair at present I've to say, AN EPISTLE TO JOSIAH BURCHET, ON HIS BEING CHOSEN MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT. My Burchet's name well pleas'd I saw Wha are to give Britannia law, And keep her rights complete. O may the rest wha fill the house The name of patriot is mair great What boots an opulent estate, Without a conscience clear? While sneaking sauls for cash wad trock With pleasure we the villain mock, With a' your pith, the like of you, Shou'd gar the trockling rogues look blue, And cow them laigh and clean. Down with them,-down with a' that dare Sae may kind heaven propitious prove, And him a corner in your love, TO MR. DAVID MALLOCH, ON HIS DEPARTURE FROM SCOTLAND. SINCE fate, with honour, bids thee leave When powers propitious smile. The task assign'd thee's great and good, Wha from bauld heroes draw their blood, Like wax, the dawning genius takes The sour weak pedants spoil the mind Who think instruction is confin'd But better kens my friend, and can To lead the boy up to a man That's fit in courts to shine. Frae Grampian heights (some may object) With vaster ease, at the first glance, But he that could, in tender strains, Raise Margaret's plaining shade, (1) Shaws to the world, cou'd they observe, (1) "William and Margaret," a ballad, in imitation of the old manner, wherein the strength of thought and passion is more observed than a rant of unmeaning words. |