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

tray'd them,

Plain, dull Stupidity Atept kindly in to aid


WHAT farther clifhmaclaver 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 dreffes



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

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

O HAD M'Lauchlan*, thairm-inspiring Sage, 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


No guess could tell what instrument appear'd,

But all the foul 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 fimple Catrine, their long lov'd abode ; Laft, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazle

wreath, To rustic Agriculture did bequeath The broken; iron instruments of Death,

At fight of whom our Sprités forgat their

kindling wrath,




For sense they little owe to frugal Heav'n

To please the mob, tbey bide tbe little giv'nt,


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

An' pour your creeshie nations;

; An' ye wha leather rax an' draw,

Of a' denominations ;

Swift to the Laigh Kirk, ane an'a,

An' there tak up your stations ģ Then aff to B-gb-e's in a taw,

An' pour divine libations

For joy this day.

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