IN politics if thou would'st mix,
And mean thy fortunes be;

Bear this in mind, "Be deaf and blind;
Let great folks hear and see."

EPIGRAM ON CAPTAIN GROSE.

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,

And saw each bed-post with its burden a-groaning,
Astonish'd, confounded, cried Satan, "By G―d,
I'll want 'im ere I take such a damnable load!""

EXTEMPORE,

In answer to an invitation to spend an hour at a tavern.

THE King's most humble servant, I

Can scarcely spare a minute;

But I'll be wi' you by and by;
Or else the Deil's be in it.

EPIGRAM.

[Burns, accompanied by a friend, having gone to Inverary at a time when some company were there on a visit to the Duke of Argyll, finding himself entirely neglected by the innkeeper, whose attention was occupied by the visitors of his Grace, expressed his disapprobation of the incivility with which they were treated in the following lines.]

WHOE'ER he be that sojourns here,
I pity much his case,
Unless he comes to wait upon

The Lord, their God, his Grace.

1 Mr. Grose was exceedingly corpulent, and used to rally himself, with the greatest good humor, on the singular rotundity of his figure. This Epigram, written by Burns in a moment of festivity, was so much relished by the antiquarian, that he made it serve as an excuse for prolonging the convivial occasion that gave it birth to a very late hour.

There's naething here but Highland pride,
And Highland scab and hunger;
If Providence has sent me here,
'Twas surely in an anger.

A VERSE,

Presented, by the Author, on taking leave, to the master of a house in the
Highlands, by whom he had been hospitably entertained.
WHEN Death's dark stream I ferry o'er,
A time that surely shall come;
In heaven itself, I'll ask no more,
Than just a Highland welcome.

THE TOAST.

[Written with a diamond pencil on a glass tumbler, and presented to Miss Jessy Lewars, now Mrs. Thomson, Dumfries; a deservedly great favorite of the Poet's, and a kind and soothing friend to Mrs. Burns at the time of his death.]

FILL me with the rosy wine,
Call a toast, a toast divine;
Give the Poet's darling flame,
Lovely Jessy be the name;
Then thou mayest freely boast,
Thou hast given a peerless toast.

EPITAPH ON MISS JESSY LEWARS:

[The same lady complaining of some slight indisposition, Burns told her he should take care to have an epitaph ready for her in case of the worst, which he likewise wrote on a glass tumbler, to make a pair with the other as follows:]

SAY, sages, what's the charm on earth,

Can turn Death's dart aside?

It is not purity and worth,

Else Jessy had not died.

ON HER RECOVERY.

BUT rarely seen since Nature's birth,
The natives of the sky;

Yet still one Seraph 's left on earth,
For Jessy did not die.

TO THE SAME.

[About the end of May, 1796, the surgeon who attended Burns in his last illness, happened to call on him at the same time with Miss Jessy Lewars. In the course of conversation Mr. Brown mentioned that he had been to see a collection of wild beasts just arrived in Dumfries. By way of aiding his description, he took the advertisement (containing a list of the animals to be exhibited) from his pocket. As he was about to hand it to Miss Lewars, the Poet took it out of his hand, and with some red ink standing beside him, wrote on the back of the advertisement the following lines.]

TALK not to me of savages

From Afric's burning sun,

No savage e'er could rend my heart,
As, Jessy, thou hast done.

But Jessy's lovely hand in mine,
A mutual faith to plight,

Not even to view the heavenly choir
Would be so blest a sight.

LINES

WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF A BANK NOTE.

WAE worth thy power, thou curséd leaf,
Fell source o' a' my woe and grief;
For lack o' thee I've lost my lass,
For lack o' thee I scrimp my glass.
I see the children of affliction
Unaided, through thy cursed restriction.
I've seen the oppressor's cruel smile
Amid his hapless victim's spoil:

And for thy potence vainly wish'd,

To crush the villain in the dust.

For lack o' thee I leave this much-loved shore, Never, perhaps, to greet old Scotland more.

KYLE.

R. B.

LINES ON MISS J. SCOTT, OF AYR.
OH! had each Scot of ancient times,
Been, Jeany Scott, as thou art,
The bravest heart on English ground
Had yielded like a coward.

LINES

On being asked, why God had made Miss Davies so little, and
Mrs.✶✶✶ so large.

WRITTEN ON A PANE OF GLASS IN THE INN AT MOFFAT.

ASK why God made the gem so small,
And why so huge the granite?

Because God meant mankind should set
The higher value on it.

LINES

Written under the picture of the celebrated Miss Burns.

CEASE, ye prudes, your envious railing,
Lovely Burns has charms-confess;
True it is, she had one failing-

Had a woman ever less.

LINES

Written and presented to Mrs. Kemble, on seeing her in the character of Yarico.

KEMBLE, thou cur'st my unbelief

Of Moses and his rod;

At Yarico's sweet notes of grief
The rock with tears had flow'd.
Dumfries Theatre, 1794.

LINES

Written on a window at the King's Arms Tavern, Dumfries.

YE men of wit and wealth, why all this sneering
'Gainst poor Excisemen? give the cause a hearing:
What are your landlords' rent-rolls? taxing ledgers;
What premiers, what? even Monarchs' mighty guagers:
Nay, what are priests? those seeming godly wisemen;
What are they, pray? but spiritual Excisemen.

VERSES

Written on a window of the inn at Carron.

WE Cam na here to view your warks
In hopes to be mair wise,
But only, lest we gangi to hell,
It may be nae surprise:

But when we tirl'd' at your door,

Your porter dought na3 hear us;
Sae may, should we to hell's yetts1 come,
Your billy' Satan sair® us!

TO DR. MAXWELL.

On Miss Jessy Staig's recovery.

MAXWELL, if merit here you crave,
That merit I deny—

You save fair Jessy from the grave!
An angel could not die.

Go.-2 Knocked.-3 Was unable to.-4 Gates.-5 Brother.- Serva