[Among the companions of Burns, the one here addressed, under date May, 1785, appears to have been both a more modest and a more meritorious rhymester than either Sillar or La praik. Though surpassing them immeasurably, as indeed he might easily have done, in the general character of his effusions, he never, like them, had the effrontery to publish a collected But, thanks to Heaven! that 's no the volume, and by so doing bring himself at once gate We learn our creed. For thus the royal mandate ran, When first the human race began, "The social, friendly, honest man, Whate'er he be, "Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan, An' none but he!" into painful comparison with his illustrious associate. William Simpson, at the date of this poem, was the schoolmaster at Ochiltree. His intimacy with Burns is another illustration of the poet's affection for schoolmasters, as shown by the cordial terms on which he lived with Murdoch, Gray, Clarke, Nicol, Masterton and Cruickshank.] I GAT your letter, winsome Willie ; Though I maun say 't, I wad be silly, An' unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin' billie, Your flatterin' strain. But I'se believe ye kindly meant it, I sud be laith to think ye hinted Ironic satire, sidelins sklented On my poor Musie; She lay like some unkenned-of isle Or whare wild meeting oceans boil Ramsay an' famous Fergusson Though in sic phrasin' terms ye 've penned While Irwin, Lugar, Ayr, an' Doon, POSTSCRIPT. My memory's no worth a preen; Ye bade me write you what they mean 'Bout which our herds sae aft ha'e been Maist like to fight. In days when mankind were but callans, But spake their thoughts in plain, braid In thae auld times, they thought the moon, Just like a sark, or pair o' shoon, Gaed past their viewing, And shortly after she was done, This past for certain undisputed; Some herds, well learned upo' the beuk, She grew mair bright. This was denied-it was affirmed; stormed, That beardless laddies Should think they better were informed Than their auld daddies. Frae less to mair it gaed to sticks; Wi' hearty crunt: Sae, ye observe that a' this clatter Is naething but a "moonshine matter;" An' some, to learn them for their tricks, I hope we bardies ken some better This game was played in monie lands, The lairds forbade, by strict commands, But New-Light herds gat sic a cowe, Ye'll find ane placed; Nae doubt the Auld-Light flocks are Their zealous herds are vexed an' sweatin'; To hear the moon sae sadly lied on Than mind sic brulzie. THIRD EPISTLE TO JOHN [The date affixed by Burns to this poetical removed to Muirkirk in 1798, and opened a address was the 13th September, 1785. Lapraik public-house, which also served the purpose of the village post-office. There he died on the 7th of May, 1807, at the age of eighty.] GUID speed an' furder to you, Johnny, Now when ye're nickan down fu' canny May ye ne'er want a stoup o' bran'y May Boreas never thresh your rigs, But shortly they will cowe the louns! Abusin' me for harsh ill nature On holy men, While de'il a hair yoursel' ye 're better, But let the kirk-folk ring their bells, Your friendship, sir, I winna quat it, EPISTLE TO THE REV. JOHN [The Rev. John M'Math, here addressed by Burns, under date the 17th September, 1785, was assistant to Dr. Peter Wodrow, the parish minister of Tarbolton. He died in obscurity in 1825, in the Isle of Unell, having passed through many vicissitudes consequent upon his great dissipation, which compelled him first to resign his position as a clergyman, and eventually, in a moment of desperation, to enlist as a private soldier. The subjoined poem enclosed a copy of "Holy Willie's Prayer," which had been requested from the author by the then well-to-do and reputable clergyman.] Then han' in nieve some day we'll knot WHILE at the stook the shearers cower, |