28 And when the bard, or hoary sage, Charm or instruct the future age, They bind the wild poetic rage

In energy,

Or point the inconclusive page

Full on the eye.

29 Hence Fullarton, the brave and young; Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue; Hence sweet harmonious Beattie sung

His Minstrel' lays,

Or tore, with noble ardour stung,

The sceptic's bays.

30 To lower orders are assign'd

The humbler ranks of human-kind,
The rustic bard, the labouring hind,

The artisan;

All choose, as various they're inclined,

The various man.

31 When yellow waves the heavy grain, The threat'ning storm some strongly rein; Some teach to meliorate the plain,

With tillage-skill;

And some instruct the shepherd-train,

Blithe o'er the hill.

32 'Some hint the lover's harmless wile; Some grace the maiden's artless smile; Some soothe the labourer's weary toil

For humble gains,

And make his cottage-scenes beguile

His cares and pains.

33 Some, bounded to a district-space,

16

Explore at large man's infant race,
To mark the embryotic trace
Of rustic bard;

And careful note each opening grace,

A guide and guard.

34 'Of these am I-Coila my name;
And this district as mine I claim,

Where once the Campbells,1 chiefs of fame,
Held ruling power:

I mark'd thy embryo tuneful flame,

Thy natal hour.

35 With future hope, I oft would gaze
Fond, on thy little early ways,

Thy rudely caroll'd, chiming phrase,

In uncouth rhymes,

Fired at the simple, artless lays

Of other times.

36 I saw thee seek the sounding shore,
Delighted with the dashing roar;"
Or, when the North his fleecy store

Drove through the sky,

I saw grim Nature's visage hoar

Struck thy young eye.

37 Or when the deep green-mantled earth
Warm cherish'd every floweret's birth,
And joy and music pouring forth

In every grove,

'Campbells: the Loudoun branch of that family; Mossgeil was the Earl of Loudoun's property.

I saw thee eye the general mirth

With boundless love.

38 When ripen'd fields, and azure skies, Call'd forth the reaper's rustling noise,

I saw thee leave their evening joys,

And lonely stalk,

To vent thy bosom's swelling rise

In pensive walk.

39 When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong, Keen-shivering shot thy nerves along, Those accents, grateful to thy tongue,

The adored Name,

I taught thee how to pour in song,

To soothe thy flame.

40 I saw thy pulse's madd'ning play, Wild send thee Pleasure's devious way, Misled by Fancy's meteor ray,

By passion driven;

But yet the light that led astray

Was light from Heaven.

41 'I taught thy manners-painting strains, The loves, the ways of simple swains, Till now, o'er all my wide domains

Thy fame extends;

And some, the pride of Coila's plains,
Become thy friends.

42 Thou canst not learn, nor can I show, To paint with Thomson's landscape glow;

43 Yet, all beneath the unrivall'd rose,
The lowly daisy sweetly blows:

Though large the forest's monarch throws
His army shade,

Yet green the juicy hawthorn grows,

Adown the glade.

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

Nor kings' regard,

Can give a bliss o'ermatching thine,

A rustic Bard.

45 To give my counsels all in one,Thy tuneful flame still careful fan; Preserve the dignity of man,

With soul erect;

And trust, the Universal Plan

Will all protect.

46 And wear thou this'-she solemn said,

And bound the holly round my head:
The polish'd leaves, and berries red,
Did rustling play;

And, like a passing thought, she fled

In light away.

ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS.

'My son, these maxims make a rule,

And lump them aye thegither;

The Rigid Righteous is a fool,

The Rigid Wise anither:

The cleanest corn that e'er was dight
May hae some pyles o' caff in;
So ne'er a fellow-creature slight
For random fits o' daffin.'

SOLOMON.-Eccles. vii. 16.

10 YE wha are sae guid yoursel'
Sae pious and sae holy,

Ye've naught to do but mark and tell
Your neebour's fauts and folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supplied wi' store o' water,
The heapit happer's ebbing still,

And still the clap plays clatter.

2 Hear me, ye venerable core,

As counsel for poor mortals,

That frequent pass douce Wisdom's door
For glaiket Folly's portals;

I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences,

Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings and mischances.

3 Ye see your state wi' theirs compared, And shudder at the niffer,

But cast a moment's fair regard

What maks the mighty differ?