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6 Tho' large the foreft's Monarch throws

• His army shade, Yet green the juicy Hawthorn grows,

• Adown the glade.

• THEN never murmur nor repine ; • Strive in thy humble sphere to shine j • And trust me, not Potosi's mine,

• Nor King's regard, * Can give a bliss o'ermatching thine,

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'To give my counsels all in one, * Thy tuneful flame still careful fan;

• Preserve tbe dignity of Man,

• With Soul ere&t; * And trust, the Universal Plan

• Will all protect.

And

? And wear tbou tbis'--the folemn said, And bound the Holly round my head : The polish'd leaves, and berries red,

Did rustling play ;

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ADDRESS

TO THE

UNCO GUID,

OR THE

RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS.

My Son, these maxims make a rule,

And lump tbem ay tbegitber;

The Rigid Righteous is a fool,

The Rigid Wife anitber:
The cleanest corn tbat e'er was digbt

May bae some piles o'caff in ;

So ne'er a fellow-creature sligbt

For random fits o' duffin.

SOLOMON-Ecclef, ch. vii. verf. 16.

I.

O YE wha are fae guid yourfel,

Saę pious and sae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell

Your Neebours' fauts and folly!

Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,

Supply'd wi' store o' water, The heaped happer's ebbing still,

And still the clap plays clatter.

U.

HEAR me, ye venerable Core,

As counsel for poor mortals,

That frequent pass douce Wisdom's door

For glaikit Folly's portals;
1, for their thoughtless, careless fakes

Would here propone defences,
Their donfie tricks, their black mistakes,

Their failings and mischances,

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III.

:

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What maks the mighty differ ; Discount what fcant occafion gave,

That purity ye pride in, And (what's aft mair tħan a' the lave)

Your better art o' hiding.

IV.

THINK, when your castigated pule

Gies now and then a wallop,
What ragings must his veins convulle,

That still eternal gallop:
Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,

Right on ye fcud your sea-way; But, in the teeth o' baith to fail,

It maks an unco leeway.

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