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A lesson fadly teaching to your cost,
That Architecture's noble art is loft!
Fine Architecture, trowth, I needs must say't
The L-d be thankit that we've tint the gate
Gaunt, ghastly, ghaist-alluring edifices, Hanging, with threat’ning jut, like precipices; O'er-arching mouldy, gloom-inspiring coves, Supporting roofs fantastic, itony groves : Windows and doors, in nameless sculptures
With order, symmetry, or taste unbleft;
Forms like some bedlam Statuary's dream,
The craz'dcreations of misguided whim;
Their likeness is not found on earth, in air,
Mansions that would disgrace the building
Of any mason reptile, bird or beaft!
Fit only for a doited Monkish race,
That fullen gloom was sterling true devotion ;
And Toon may they expire, unbleft with refur.
O YE, my dear-remember'd, ancient yealings, Were ye but here to share my wounded feel
Ye worthy Proveses, an' mony a Bailie,
A'ye douce folk I've born aboon the broo,
To To see each melancholy alteration;
And agonizing, eurse the time and place
Nae langer Rev'rend Men, their country's
glory, In plain braid Scots hold forth, a plain braid
story! Nae langer thrifty Citizens, an' douce, Meet owre a pint, or in the Council-house;
But staumrel, corky-headed, graceless Gen
The herryment and ruin of the country;
new Brigs and Harbours !
NEW NEW BRIG,
Now haud you there! for faith ye've said
enough, And muckle mair than you can mak to through. As for your Priesthood, I fhall say but little, Corbies and Clergy are a fhot right kittle: But, under favour o* your langer beard, Abuse o' Magistrates might weel be spar'd: To liken them to your auld-warld squad, I must needs say, comparisons are odd, In Ayr, Wag-wits nae mair can have a handle To mouth' A Citizen,' a term o' scandal: Nae mair the Council waddles down the street, In all the pomp of ignorant conceit; Men wha grew wise priggin owre hops an'
raisins, Or gather'd lib'ral views in Bonds and Seisins.