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So, ye may doucely fill a Throne,

For a' their clifh-ma-claver:

*

There, Him at Agincourt wha fhone,

Few better were or braver ;

And yet, wi' funny, queer Sir John†,

He was an unco fhaver

For monie a day,

XII.

FOR you, right rev'rend O

Nanc fets the lawn sleeve fweeter,

Altho' a ribban at your lug

Wad been a drefs completer:

As ye difown yon paughty dog

That bears the Keys of Peter,

Then, fwith an' get a wife to hug,

* King Henry V.

† Sir John Falstaff. Vide Shakespeare.

Or

Or trouth! ye'll ftain the Mitre

Some lucklefs day.

XIII

YOUNG royal Tarry Breeks, I learn,

Ye've lately come athwart her; A glorious Galley *, ftem and ftern, Weel rigg'd for Venus barter;

But first hang out, that he'll discern

Your hymeneal charter,

Then heave aboard your grapple airn,

An', large upon her quarter

Come full that day.

XIV.

YE laftly, bonie bloffoms a',

Ye royal Laffes dainty,

Heav'n

* Alluding to the News-paper account of a certain Royal Sai

lor's amour.

Heav'n mak you guid as weel as braw,

An' gie you lads a plenty :

But fneer na British boys awa',

For Kings are unco fcant ay;

An' German Gentles are but sma',

They're better juft than want ay

On onie day.

XV.

Gop blefs you a'

confider now,

Ye're unco muckle dautet;

But ere the course o' life be through,

It may be bitter fautet:

An' I hae feen their coggie fou,

That yet hae tarrow't at it;

But or the day was done, I trow,

1

The laggen they hae clautet

Fu' clean that day.

THE

THE

VISION.

DUAN FIRST*.

THE fun had clos'd the winter-day,
The curlers quat their roaring play,
An' hunger'd Maukin taen her way
ninguna. To kail-yards green,

While faithlefs fnaws ilk ftep betray

Whare fhe has been.

THE Thresher's weary flinging-tree,

The lee-lang day had tir'd me;

And when the Day had clos'd his e'e,

Fari' the West,

Ben

*Duan, a term of Ossians for the different divisions of a di

gressive Poem. See his Catb-Loda, vol. 2. of M'Pherson's Translation.

Ben i' the Spence, right penfivelie,

I gaed to reft.

THERE, lanely, by the ingle-cheek,

I fat and ey'd the fpewing reek,

That fill'd, wi' hoaft-provoking fmeek,

The auld, clay biggin;

And heard the reftlefs rattons squeak

About the riggin.

ALL in this mottie mifty clime,

1 backward mus'd on wasted time,

How I had spent my youthfu' prime,

An' done nae-thing,

But ftringin blethers up in rhyme

For fools to fing.

HAD I to guid advice but harkit,

I might by this hae led a market,

Or

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