Or if the Swede, before he halt,
Would play anither Charles the Twalt;'
If Denmark, any body spak o't!
Or Poland, wha had now the tack' o't;
How cut-throat Prussian blades were hingin','
How libbet Italy was singin';
If Spaniard, Portuguese, or Swiss
Were sayin' or takin' aught amiss:
Or how our merry lads at hame,
In Britain's court keep up the game;
How Royal George, the Lord leuk o'er him!
Was managing St. Stephen's quorum;
If sleekit Chatham Will' was livin',
Or glaiket' Charlie gat his nieve in:
How daddie Burke the plea was cookin',
If Warren Hastings' neck was yeukin';10
How cesses, stents," and fees were rax'd,"
Or if bare as yet were tax'd;
The news o' princes, dukes, and earls,
Pimps, sharpers, bawds, and opera-girls;
If that daft buckie, Geordie Wales,
Was threshin' still at hizzies' tails,
Or if he was grown oughtlins doucer,13
And no a perfect kintra cooser:"
A' this and mair I never heard of;
And but for you I might despair'd of;
So, gratefu', back your news I send you,
And pray, a' guid things may attend you!
EXPECT na, Sir, in this narration,
A fleechin', fletherin', dedication,
To roose" you up, an' ca' you guid,
An' sprung o' great an' noble bluid,
1 Twelfth.-2 The guiding, or governing of it.-3 Hanging.- Castrated.— Slender.- William Pitt, son of the Earl of Chatham.-7 Thoughtless, giddy.-8 The celebrated Charles James Fox. The fist.-10. Yoked.-11 Tribute, dues.-12 Stretched, increased.-13 Wiser.-14 Country stallion.15 Supplicating.--16 Flattering.-17 To praise.
Because ye 're surnamed like His Grace,
Perhaps related to the race;
Then when I'm tired-and sae are ye,
Wi' monie a fulsome, sinfu' lie,
Set up a face, how I stopt short,
For fear your modesty be hurt.
This may do-maun' do, Sir, wi' them wha
Maun please the great folk for a wamefou';"
For me! sae laigh3 I needna bow,
For, Lord be thankit, I can plough;
And when I downa' yoke a naig,
Then, Lord be thankit, I can beg;
Sae I shall say, an' that's nae flatt'rin',
It's just sic Poet an' sic Patron.
The Poet, some guid angel help him,
Or else, I fear some ill ane skelp him,
He
may do weel for a' he's done yet,
But only he 's no just begun yet.
The Patron, (Sir, ye maun forgie me,
I winna lie, come what will o' me,)
On every hand it will allow'd be,
He's just nae better than he should be.
I readily and freely grant,
He downa see a poor man want;
What's no his ain he winna tak it,
What ance he says he winna break it;
Aught he can lend he'll no refuse 't,
Till aft his goodness is abused:
And rascals whyles that him do wrang,
E'en that he does not mind it lang;
As master, landlord, husband, father,
He does na fail his part in either.
But then, nae thanks to him for a' that;
Nae godly symptom ye can ca' that;
It's naething but a milder feature,
Of our poor, sinfu' corrupt nature:
Ye'll get the best o' moral works,
'Mang black Gentoos and pagan Turks,
Or hunters wild of Ponotaxi,
Wha never heard of orthodoxy.
That he's the poor man's friend in need,
'Must.-2 Bellyful.-3 Low.-4 Cannot. To strike
The gentleman in word and deed,
It's no thro' terror of damnation :
It's just a carnal inclination.
Morality! thou deadly bane,
Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain!
Vain is his hope, whose stay and trust is
In moral mercy, truth, and justice!
No-stretch a point to catch a plack;
Abuse a brother to his back;
Steal thro' a winnock' frae a whore,
But point the rake that takes the door;
Be to the poor like onie whunstane,
And haud their noses to the grunstane ;3
Ply every art o' legal thieving;
No matter-stick to sound believing.
Learn three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces,
Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang wry faces,
Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan,
And damn a' parties but your own;
I'll warrant then, ye 're nae deceiver,
A steady, sturdy, stanch believer.
O ye wha leave the springs of Calvin,
For gumlie dubs" of your ain delvin'!
Ye sons of heresy and error,
Ye'll some day squeel' in quakin' terror!
When Vengeance draws the sword in wrath,
And in the fire throws the sheath;
When Ruin with his sweeping besom,
Just frets till Heaven commission gies him:
While o'er the harp pale Misery moans,
And strikes the ever-deepening tones,
Still louder shrieks, and heavier groans!
Your pardon, Sir, for this digression,
I maistR forgat my dedication!
But when divinity comes 'cross me,
My readers still are sure to lose me.
So, Sir, ye see 'twas nae daft' vapor,
But I maturely thought it proper,
When a' my works I did review,
To dedicate them, Sir, to You;
Window.-2 A hard rock stone.-3 Grindstone-4 Hands.-5 Muddy.— • A small pond.-7 Scream.-8 Almost.-9 Foolish.
Because (ye needna tak it ill)
I thought them something like yoursel.
Then patronize them wi' your favor,
And your petitioner shall ever—
I had amaist said, ever pray,
But that's a word I needna say:
For prayin' I hae little skill o't;
I'm baith dead-sweer' an' wretched ill o't;
But I'se repeat each poor man's prayer,
That kens or hears about you, Sir:-
"May ne'er misfortune's growling bark
Howl thro' the dwelling o' the Clerk!
May ne'er his generous, honest heart,
For that same generous spirit smart:
May Kennedy's far-honor'd fame,
Lang beet his hymeneal flame,
Till Hamiltons, at least a dizen,
Are frae their nuptial labors risen:
Five bonnie lasses round their table,
And seven braw fellows, stout an' able
To serve their king and country weel,
By word, or pen, or pointed steel!
May health and peace, with mutual rays,
Shine on the evening o' his days;
Till his wee curlie John's ier-oe,3
When ebbing life nae mair shall flow,
The last, sad mournful rites bestow!"
I will not wind a lang conclusion,
Wi' complimentary effusion:
But whilst your wishes and endeavors
Are blest wi' Fortune's smiles and favors,
I am, dear Sir, with zeal most fervent,
Your much indebted, humble servant.
But if (which Powers above prevent!)
That iron-hearted carl, Want,
Attended in his grim advances,
By sad mistakes and black mischances,
While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him,
Make you as poor a dog as I am,
Your humble servant then no more;
For who would humbly serve the poor?
1 Averse.-2 Add fuel to.-3 Great-grandchild.
But, by a poor man's hopes in Heaven!
While recollection's power is given,
If, in the vale of humble life,
The victim sad of Fortune's strife,
I, thro' the tender gushing tear,
Should recognize my master dear,
If, friendless, low, we meet together,
Then, Sir, your hand-my friend and brother!
TO THE SAME,
(Recommending a boy.)
I HOLD it, Sir, my bounden duty
To warn you how that Master Tootie,
Alias, Laird M'Gaun,'
Was here to hire yon lad away
'Bout whom ye spak the tither day,
An' wad hae done 't aff han':2
But lest he learn the callan3 tricks,
As faith I muckle doubt him,
Like scrapin' out auld crummie's nicks,
An' tellin' lies about them;
As lieves then I'd have then,
Your clerkship he should sair,"
If sae be, ye may be
Not fitted otherwhere.
Altho' I say 't, he's gleg enough,
An' bout a house that's rude an' rough,
The boy might learn to swear;
But then wi' you, he'll be sae taught,
An' get sic fair example straught,
I hae na ony fear.
Ye'll catechise him every quirk,
An' shore him weel wi' hell;
'Master Tootie then lived in Mauchline; a dealer in cows. It was his common practice to cut the nicks or markings from the horns of cattle, to disguise their age. He was an artful, trick-contriving character; hence he is called a snick-drawer. In the Poet's "Address to the Deil," he styles that august personage an auld, snick-drawing dog!-Reliques, p. 897.
2 Off hand.-3 Boy.-4 Old cow.-5 Rather.- Serve.-7 Sharp.-8 Threaten.
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