INSCRIPTION ON A GOBLET.

THERE's death in the cup-sae beware!
Nay, more-there is danger in touching;
But wha can avoid the fell snare ?

The man and his wine's sae bewitching!

THE TOAD-EATER.

Spoken in reply to one who was talking largely of his noble

friends.

WHAT of earls with whom you have supt,

And of dukes that you dined with yestreen? Lord! a louse, Sir, is still but a louse,

Though it crawl on the curls of a queen.

THE SELKIRK GRACE.

When on a visit to St. Mary's Isle, the Earl of Selkirk requested
Burns to say grace at dinner; he complied in these words.
SOME hae meat, and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thanket.

ON A SUICIDE.

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

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

ON THE LATE DUKE OF QUEENSBERRY.
How shall I sing Drumlanrig's Grace-
Discarded remnant of a race

Once great in martial story?
His forbears' virtues all contrasted-
The very name of Douglas blasted-
His that inverted glory.
Hate, envy, oft the Douglas bore;
But he has superadded more,

And sunk them in contempt;
Follies and crimes have stain'd the name,
But, Queensberry, thine the virgin claim,
From aught that's good exempt.

IMPROMPTU ON WILLIE STEWART.

These verses were written on a tumbler which was in the posses. sion of the late Sir Waiter Scott.

YOU'RE welcome, Willie Stewart,

You're welcome, Willie Stewart;

There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May,

That's half sae welcome's thou art.

Come, bumpers high, express your joy,

The bowl we maun renew it;
The tappit-hen gae bring her ben,
To welcome Willie Stewart.

May foes be strang, and friends be slack,
Ilk action may he rue it;

May woman on him turn her back,
That wrangs thee, Willie Stewart.

WRITTEN ON A PANE OF GLASS, On the occasion of a national Thanksgiving for a Naval Victory. YE hypocrites! are these your pranks ?— To murder men, and gie God thanks! For shame! gie o'er, proceed no furtherGod won't accept your thanks for murther!

A GRACE BEFORE MEAT.

O THOU, in whom we live and move,
Who mad'st the sea and shore;
Thy goodness constantly we prove,
And grateful would adore.

And if it please thee, pow'r above,
Still grant us, with such store,

The friend we trust, the fair we love,
And we desire no more.

EPITAPH ON MR. W. CRUICKSHANKS.

HONEST Will's to Heaven gane,
And mony shall lament him;
His faults they a' in Latin lay,
In English nane e'er kent them.

EPITAPH ON W

STOP thief! dame Nature cried to Death,
As Willie drew his latest breath;

You have my choicest model taen,
How shall I make a fool again?

ON THE SAME.

REST gently, turf, upon his breast,
His chicken heart's so tender;-
But rear huge castles on his head,
His scull will prop them under.

THE END.