Aye gat him friends in ilka place.
His breast was white, his touzie back
Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black;
His gaucie tail, wi' upward curl,
Hung o'er his hurdies wi' a swirl.

Nae doubt but they were fain o' ither,
And unco pack and thick thegither;

always got, each shaggy

well

stately

hips, swirling motion

fond

very intimate [ed

Wi'social nose whyles snuff'd and snowkit, sometimes scent

Whyles mice and moudieworts they howkit;

moles, dug up

away each other

sporting

hillock long

EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND.

I'LL no say men are villains a' ;

The real, hardened wicked,

'Wha hae nae check but human law,
Are to a few restricked;

But, oh! mankind are unco weak,
And little to be trusted;

If self the wavering balance shake,
It's rarely right adjusted!

Aye free aff han' your story tell,

When wi' a bosom crony;

But still keep something to yoursel'

Ye scarcely tell to ony.

Conceal yoursel' as weel's ye can

Frae critical dissection,

who have no

very

always off hand

companior

any

from

look

But keek through every other man,
Wi' sharpened, sly inspection.

The secret lowe o' weel-placed love,

Luxuriantly indulge it;

Bnt never tempt th' illicit rove,
Though naething should divulge it :
I waive the quantum o' the sin,
The hazard of concealing;

But, ob! it hardens a' within,

And petrifies the feeling!

flame

nothing

To catch dame Fortune's golden smile,
Assiduous wait upon her;
And gather gear by every wile
That's justified by honour;
Not for to hide it in a hedge,
Nor for a train-attendant,
But for the glorious privilege
Of being independent.

The great Creator to revere

Must sure become the creature;
But still the preaching cant forbear,
And even the rigid feature:

Yet ne'er with wits profane to range,
Be complaisance extended;

An Atheist laugh's a poor exchange
For Deity offended!

When ranting round in pleasure's ring,
Religion may be blinded;

Or if she gi'e a random sting,

It may be little minded;

But when on life we're tempest driven,
A conscience but a canker,

A correspondence fixed wi' Heaven,
Is sure a noble anchor!

TO MARY IN HEAVEN.

THOU lingering star, with less'ning ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,

Again thou usher'st in the day

My Mary from my soul was torn.

O Mary! dear departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest!

See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

That sacred hour can I forget,

Can I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love! Eternity will not efface

Those records dear of transports past;

Thy image at our last embrace

Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!

wealth

give

Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green;
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
Twined am'rous round the raptured scene;
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on every spray-
Till too, too soon, the glowing west
Proclaim'd the speed of winged day.
Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care!
Time but the impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
My Mary! dear departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

LAMENT FOR EARL OF GLENCAIRN.
66 AWAKE thy last sad voice, my harp!
The voice of wo and wild despair;
Awake! resound thy latest lay-
Then sleep in silence evermair!
And thou, my last, best, only friend,
That fillest an untimely tomb,
Accept this tribute from the bard,

evermore

Thou brought from fortune's mirkiest gloom. darkest

"In poverty's low barren vale

Thick mists, obscure, involved me round;

Though oft I turn'd the wistful eye,

Nae ray of fame was to be found:
Thou found'st me, like the morning sun,
That melts the fogs in limpid air;
The friendless bard and rustic song
Became alike thy fostering care.
"O why has worth so short a date?

While villains ripen grey with time;
Must thou, the noble, generous, great,
Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime!
Why did I live to see that day!

A day to me so full of wo!Oh had I met the mortal shaft Which laid my benefactor low!