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If haply Knowledge, on a random tramp.
Had fhor'd them with a glimmer of his lamp,
And would to Common-fense, for once be-

tray'd them, Plain, dull Stupidity ftept kindly in to aid


WHAT farther clishmaclaver might been said, What bloody wars, if Sprites had blood to


No man can tell ; but all before their fight,
A fairy train appear'd in order bright:
Adown the glittering stream they featly


danc'd ;

Bright to the moon their various dresses



They footed o'er the wat’ry glass so neat, The infant ice scarce bent beneath their feet :

While arts of minstrelly amorg them rung, And soul-ennobling Bards heroic ditties sung.

O HAD M’Lauchlan*, thailm-infpiring Sage,

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Been there to hear this heavenly band en


When thro' his dear Stratbspeys they bore

with Highland rage ; Or when they struck old Scotia's melting airs, The lover's raptur'd joys or bleeding cares ; How would his Highland lug been nobler fir'd,

And ev'n his matchless hand with finer touch

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inspir'd! No guess could tell what instrument appear'd, But all the four of Mufic's self was heard;

I 3

Harmonious A well known performer of Scottish music on the violin;

Harmonious concert rung in ev'ry part,

While simple melody pour'd moving on the


The Genius of the Stream in front appears,

A venerable Chief advanc'd in years ;
His hoary head with water-lilies crown'd,
His manly leg with garter tangle bound.
Next came the loveliest pair in all the ring,
Sweet Female Beauty hand in hand with

Then, crown'd with flow'ry hay, came Rural

Joy, And Summer, with his fervid-beaming eye: All-chearing Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn wreath'd with nodding



Then Winter's time bleach'd locks did hoary


By Hospitality with cloudless brow.

Next follow'd Courage with his martial ftride,
From where the Feal wild woody coverts hide;
Benevolence, with mild, benignant air,
A female form came from the tow'rs of Stair :

. Learning and Worth in equal measures trode,

From simple Catrine, their long lov'd abode ; Laft, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazle


To rustic Agriculture did bequeath

The broken; iron instruments of Death,

At fight of whom our Sprites forgat their

kindling wrath,




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For sense they little owe to frugal Heav'n.
To please the mob, tbey bide the little giv'n.


K********* Wabsters, fidge an claw,



An' pour your creeshie nations;


wha leather rax an' draw,

Of a' denominations ;
Swift to the Laigb Kirk, ane an'a,

An' there tak up your stations ;

Then aff to B-gb--'s in a taw,

An' pour divine libations

For joy this day.


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