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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-fenfe, for once betray'd them,

Plain, dull Stupidity stept kindly in to aid

them.

WHAT farther clifhmaclaver might been faid, What bloody wars, if Sprites had blood to

fhed,

No man can tell; but all before their fight, A fairy train appear'd in order bright:

Adown the glittering ftream they featly

danc'd ;

Bright to the moon their various dreffes

glanc'd:

They

They footed o'er the wat'ry glass so neat, The infant ice fcarce bent beneath their feet: While arts of minstrelfy among them rung, And foul-ennobling Bards heroic ditties fung. O HAD M'Lauchlan *, thaiım-inspiring Sage, 1 Been there to hear this heavenly band en

gage,

When thro' his dear Strathspeys they bore

with Highland rage;

Or when they ftruck 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 matchlefs hand with finer touch -infpir'd!

No guefs could tell what inftrument appear'd, But all the foul of Mufic's felf was heard;

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A well known performer of Scottish music on the violin:

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Harmonious concert rung in ev'ry part,

While fimple melody pour'd moving on the

heart.

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
Spring;

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

corn;

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Then

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Then Winter's time bleach'd locks did hoary

fhow,

By Hospitality with cloudlefs brow.

Next follow'd Courage with his martial stride,
From where the Feat 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 fimple Catrine, their long lov'd abode;

Laft, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazle

wreath,

To ruftic Agriculture did bequeath

The broken; iron inftruments of Death,

At fight of whom our Sprites forgat their kindling wrath.

THE

THE

ORDINATION.

For sense they little owe to frugal Heav'n

To please the mob, they hide the little giv'n.

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Of a' denominations;

Swift to the Laigh Kirk, ane an' a,

An' there tak up your ftations;

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

An' pour divine libations

For joy this day.

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