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;
Be to the poor like ony whunstane,
And haud their noses to the grunstane,
Ply every art o' legal thieving;
No matter-stick to sound belioving!

coin

any whinstone hold, grindstone

Learn three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces,

Wi' weel-spread icoves, and lang wry faces;
Grunt up a solemn, lengthened groan,

CONDEMN a' parties but your own;

I'll warrant, then, ye're nae deceiver-
A steady, sturdy, stanch believer.

Oh

ye wha leave the springs o' Calvin, For guilie dubs of your ain delvin'! Ye sons of heresy and error,

Ye'll some day squeel in quaking 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,
maist forgot my dedication;
But when divinity comes cross me,
My readers still are sure to lose me.
So, sir, ye see 'twas nae daft vapour,
But 1 maturely thought it proper,
When a' my works I did review,
To dedicate them, sir, to you:
Because (ye need na tak it ill)

I thought them something like yoursel.

Then patronise them wi' your favour,

And your petitioner shall ever————

palms, long

muddy

almost

foolish

I had amaist said, ever pray,

But that's a word I need na say:
For prayin' I hae little skill o't;

I'm baith dead sweer, and wretched ill o't;
But I'se repeat each poor man's prayor
That kens or hears about you, sir-
"May ne'er misfortune's gowling bark
Howl through the dwelling o' the Clerk !
May ne'er his generous, honest heart,
For that same generous spirit smart!
May Kennedy's far-honoured name
Lang beet his hymeneal flame,
Till Hamiltons, at least a dizen,
Are by their canty fireside risen:

almost

both, unwilling

knows galling (Mr Hamilton)

dozen comfortable

Five bonnie lassies round their table,
And seven braw fellows, stout and able,
To serve their king and country weel,
By word, or pen, or pointed steel!
May health and peace, with inutual rays,
Shine on the evening o' his days,
Till his wee curlie John's ier-oe,
When ebbing life nae mair shall flow,
The last, sad, mournful rites bestow."

I will not wind a lang conclusion
With complimentary effusion:

But whilst your wishes and endeavours

Are blest with fortune's smiles and favours,
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

93

well

great-grandchild

By sad mistakes and black mischances,
While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him,
Make you as poor a dog as

am,

Your humble servant then no more;

For who would humbly serve the poor?
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, through the tender-gushing tear,
Should recognize my master dear,
If friendless, low, we meet together,
Then, sir, your hand-my friend and brother,

no more

TO MR M'KENZIE.

FRIDAY first's the day appointed
By the Right Worshipful anointed,
To hold our grand procession;
To get a blad o' Johnie's morals,

And taste a swatch o' Manson's barrels

I' the way of our profession.

The Master and the Brotherhood
Would a' be glad to see you;

For me I would be mair than proud
To share the mercies wi' you.

If Death, then, wi' skaith, then,
Some mortal heart is hechtin',
Inform him, and storm him,

ROBERT BURNS.

That Saturday you'il fecht him.

MOSSGIEL, An. M. 5790.

THE FAREWELL.

The valiant, in himself, what can he suffer!
Or what does he regard his single woes?
But when, alas! he multiplies himself,

To dearer selves, to the loved tender fair,

To those whose bliss, whose being hangs upon him,
To helpless children!-then, oh then! he feels
The point of misery festering in his heart,
And weakly weeps his fortune like a coward.
Such, such am I undone !"

THOMSON'S Edward and Eleanora.

FAREWELL, old Scotia's bleak domains,
Far dearer than the torrid plains
Where rich ananas blow!
Farewell, a mother's blessing dear!
A brother's sigh! a sister's tear!
My Jean's heart-rending throe!
Farewell, my Bess! though thou'rt bereft
Of my parental care,

A. faithful brother I have left,
My part in him thou'lt share!
Adieu too, to you too,

My Smith, my bosom frien';
When kindly you mind me,

Oh then befriend my Jean!

What bursting anguish tears my heart!
From thee, my Jeany, must I part!
Thou, weeping, answ'rest "No!"
Alas! misfortune stares my face,
And points to ruin and disgrace,
I for thy sake must go!
Thee, Hamilton, and Aiken dear,
A grateful, warm adieu!
I, with a much-indebted tear,
Shall still remember you!
All-hail then, the gale then,

Wafts me from thee, dear shore!

It rustles, and whistles

I'll never see thee more!

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

R. B.-Kyle.

WRITTEN

UN A BLANK LEAF OF A COPY OF THE POEMS, PRESENTED TO
AN OLD SWEETHEART, THEN MARRIED.

ONCE fondly loved and still remembered dear:
Sweet early object of my youthful vows
Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere-
Friendship! 'tis all cold duty now allows.

And when you read the simple artless rhymes,
One friendly sigh for him-he asks no more,
Who distant burns in flaming torrid climes,
Or haply lies beneath th' Atlantic's roar.

VERSES WRITTEN UNDER VIOLENT GRIEF.

ACCEPT the gift a friend sincere
Wad on thy worth be pressin';
Remembrance oft may start a tear,
But oh that tenderness forbear,

Though 'twad my sorrows lessen.

My morning raise sae clear and fair,
I thought sair storms wad never
Bedew the scene; but grief and care
In wildest fury hae made bare
My peace, my hope, for ever!

You think I'm glad; oh, I pay weel
For a' the joy I borrow,

In solitude-then, then I feel
I canna to mysel' conceal

My deeply-ranklin' sorrow.

Farewell! within thy bosom free

A sigh may whyles awaken;

would

80 sore

have

cannot

sometimes

A tear may wet thy laughin' ec,

eye

For Scotia's son,-ance gay like thee-
Now hopeless, comfortless, forsaken!

once

THE CALF.

TO THE REV. MR JAMES STEVEN.

RIGHT, sir! your text I'll prove it true,
Though Heretics may laugh;

For instance, there's yoursel' just now,

A' KEN, an unco calf!

And should some patron be so kind,
As bless you wi' a kirk,

I doubt nae, sir, but then we'll find
Ye're still as great a stirk.

And in your lug, most reverend James,
To hear you roar and rowte,
Few men o' sense will doubt your claims
To rank among the nowte.

And when ye're numbered wi' the dead,
Below a grassy hillock,

Wi' justice they may mark your head--
"Here lies a famous bullock !"

know, great

ear bellow

cattle

Your bonnie face sae mild and sweet,

His honest heart enamours,

And faith ye'll no be lost a whit,

Though waired on Willie Chalmers.

Auld truth hersel' might swear ye're fair,

And honour safely back her,

And modesty assume your air,

And ne'er a ane mistak' her:

And sic twa love-inspiring cen
Might fire even holy palmers;
Nae wonder then they've fatal been
To honest Willie Chalmers.

I doubt na fortune may you shore
Some mim-mou'd pouther'd priestie,
Fu' lifted up wi' Hebrew lore

And band upon his breastie;
But oh! what signifies to you

His lexicons and grammars;

bridle, much also, collar

panting

sometimes, over

stupid

not, well-known

no

50

spent

one

such two, eyes

no

offer

prim, powdered