Then Bacchus-like I'd bawl and bluster,
And a' the muses 'bout me muster;
Sae merrily I'd squeeze the cluster,
And drink the grape,

'Twad gie my verse a brighter lustre,
And better shape.

The powers aboon be still auspicious
To thy achievements maist delicious;
Thy poems sweet, and nae way vicious,
But blythe and canny;
To see, I'm anxious and ambitious,
Thy Miscellany.

A' blessings, Ramsay, on thee row;
Lang may thou live, and thrive, and dow,
Until thou claw an auld man's pow,

And thro' thy creed,

Be keeped frae the wirricow,

After thou's dead.

ANSWER III.

Edinburgh, September 2, 1719.

MY TRUSTY TROJAN,

Thy last oration orthodox,

Thy innocent auldfarren jokes,

And sonsie saw o' three, provokes
Me ance again,

Tod-lowrie like,* to loose my pocks,
And pump my brain.

By a' your letters I hae read,

eithly scan the man weel-bred, And soger that, where honour led,

Has ventur'd bauld;

Wha now to youngsters leaves the yed,

To 'tend his fauld.+

* Like Reynard the fox, to betake myself to some more of my wiles.

† Leaves the martial contention, and retires to a country life.

That bangster billy, Cæsar July,
Wha at Pharsalia wan the tooly,
Had better sped had he mair hooly
Scamper'd thro' life,

And midst his glories sheath'd his gully,
And kiss'd his wife.

Had he, like you, as weel he could,*
Upon burn banks the muses woo'd,
Retir'd betimes frae 'mang the crowd,

Wha'd been aboon him?

The senate's durks, and faction loud,
Ilad ne'er undone him.

Yet sometimes leave the riggs and bog,
Your howms and braes, and shady scrog,
And helm-a-lee the claret cog,

To clear your wit:

Be blythe, and let the warld e'en shog,
As it thinks fit.

Ne'er fash about your neist year's state,
Nor wi' superior pow'rs debate,

Nor cantrips cast to ken your fate;

There's ills anew

To cram our days, which soon grow late:
Let's live just now.

When northern blasts the ocean snurl,
And gar the heights and hows look gurl,
Then left about the bumper whirl,

And toom the horn, t

Grip fast the hours which hasty hurl,
The morn's the morn.

Thus to Leuconoe sang sweet Flaccus,
Wha nane e'er thought a gillygapus:
And why should we let whimsies bauk us
When joy's in season,

And thole sae aft the spleen to whauk us
Out o' our reason?

It is well known he could write as well as fight.

It is frequent in the country to drink beer out of horn-cups, made in shape of a water-glass.

See Book I., 11th Ode, of Horace.

Tho' I were laird o' ten-score acres,
Nodding to jouks o' hallenshakers,*

Yet crush'd wi' humdrums, which the weaker's
Contentment ruins,

I'd rather roost wi' causey-rakers,

And sup cauld sowens.

I think, my friend, an fouk can get
A dole of roast beef pypin' het,
And wi' red wine their wyson wet,
And claithing clean,
And be nae sick or drown'd in debt,
They're no to mean.

I read this verse to my ain kimmer,
Wha kens I like a leg o' gimmer,
Or sic and sic guid belly-timmer;

Quoth she, and leugh,
"Sicker o' thae, winter and simmer,
Ye're weel eneugh."

My hearty goss, there is nae help,
But hand to nieve we twa maun skelp
Up Rhine and Thames, and ower the Alp-
pines and Pyrenians,

The cheerfu' carles do sae yelp

To hae's their minions.

Thy raffan rural rhyme sae rare,
Sic wordy, wanton, hand-wail'd ware,
Sae gash and gay, gars fouk gae garet
To hae them by them;

Tho' gaffin they, wi' sides sae sair,

Cry, "Wae gae by him!"‡

* A hallen is a fence built of stone, turf, or a moveable flako of heather, at the sides of the door in country places, to defend them from the wind. The trembling attendant about a forgetful great man's gate or levec, is also expressed in the term "hallenshaker."

† Make people very earnest.

It is usual for many, after a full laugh, to complain of sore sides, and to bestow a kindly curse on the author of the jest. But the folks of more tender conscience have turned their expletives to friendly wishes, such as this; or "Sonse fa' ye," and the like.

K

Fair fa' that soger did invent
To ease the poet's toil wi' prent:
Now, William, we maun to the bent,

And pouse our fortune,

And crack wi' lads wha're weel content
Wi' this our sporting.

Gin ony sour-mou'd girning bucky
Ca' me conceity keckling chucky,
That we like nags whase necks are yucky,
Hae us'd our teeth;

I'll answer fine-Gae kiss your Lucky,*
She dwalls i' Leith.

I ne'er wi' lang tales fash my head,
But when I speak, I speak indeed:
Wha ca's me droll, but ony feed,

I'll own I am sae,

And while my champers can chew bread,
Your's-Allan Ramsay.

THE TWA CATS AND THE CHEESE;
A FABLE.

Twa cats ance on a cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal right;
But disputes, sic as aft arise,

Fell out in sharing o' the prize.

"Fair play!" said ane, “ye bite ower thick,

Thae teeth o' yours gang wonder quick:

Let's part it, else, lang or the moon

Be chang'd, the kebbuck will be doon."
But wha's to do't?-they're parties baith,
And ane may do the other skaith.
Sae wi' consent away they trudge,

And laid the cheese before a judge

*It is a cant phrase, from what rise I know not; but it is made use of when one does not think it is worth while to give a direct answer, or think themselves foolishly accused.

A monkey, wi' a campsho face,
Clark to a justice o' the peace;
A judge he seem'd in justice skill'd,
When he his master's chair had fill'd.
Now umpire chosen for division,
Baith swore to stand by his decision.
Demure he looks-the cheese he pales-
He prieves-it's guid-ca's for the scales;
His knife whop's throw't-in twa it fell;
He puts ilk hauf in either shell:
Said he, "We'll truly weigh the case,
And strictest justice shall hae place."
Then, lifting up the scales, he fand
The tane bang up, the other stand:
Syne out he took the heaviest hauf,
And ate a noost o't quickly aff,
And tried it syne-it now prov'd light:
"Friend cats," said he, "we'll do ye right."
Then to the other hauf he fell,

And laid til't teughly tooth and nail,
Till weigh'd again it lightest prov'd.
The judge, wha this sweet process lov❜d,
Still weigh'd the case, and still ate on,
Till clients baith were weary grown:
And tenting how the matter went,

Cried, "Come, come, sir, we're baith content."
"Ye fools," quoth he, "and justice too
Maun be content as weel as you."

Thus grumbl'd they, thus he went on,

Till baith the halves were near-hand done:
Poor pousies now the daffin' saw,

O' gawn for nignyes to the law;

And bill'd the judge, that he wad please
To gie them the remaining cheese;
To which his worship grave reply'd,
"The dues of court maun first be paid.
Now justice pleas'd-what's to the fore
Will but right scrimply clear your score;
That's our decreet-gae hame and sleep,
And thank us ye're won aff sae cheap."