TO THE REV. JOHN M'MATH. Inclosing a copy of Holy Willie's Prayer, which he had requested. WHILE at the stook' the shearers cower To shun the bitter blaudin" shower, Or in gulravage3 rinnin' scower, To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme. My musie, tired wi' mony a sonnet On gown, an' ban', an' douse black bonnet, Lest they should blame her, And anathem her. I own 't was rash, an' rather hardy, Can easy, wi' a single wordie, Lowse h-ll upon me. But I gae mad at their grimaces, Their sighin', cantin', grace-prood faces, Whase greed, revenge, an' pride disgraces 8 There's Gaun, miska't waur than a beast, Than mony scores as guid's the priest Wha sae abus't him; An' may a bard no crack his jest 10 What way they've use't him? See him, the poor man's friend in need, The gentleman in word an' deed; Shock of corn.-2 Pelting.-3 Riotous merriment.-4 Frighted.—5 Coun try. Stretching.-7 Worse than.-8 Gavin Hamilton, Esq.-—9 Miscalled. 10 The poet has introduced the first two lines of this stanza into the dedication of his works to Mr. Hamilton. An' shall his fame an' honor bleed By worthless skellums,' An' not a muse erect her head To cowe the blellums ?? O Pope, had I thy satire's darts Their jugglin' hocus-pocus arts, To cheat the crowd. God knows, I'm no the thing I should be, Than under gospel colors hid be Just for a screen. An honest man may like a glass, An' then cry zeal for gospel laws, 3 Like some we ken. They take religion in their mouth; All hail, Religion! maid divine! Thus daurs to name thee; To stigmatize false friends of thine Can ne'er defame thee, Tho' blotcht an' foul wi' mony a stain, With trembling voice I tune my strain 1 Fellows.-2 Idle talkers.-3 False.-4 Scope. Who boldly dare thy cause maintain In spite o' crowds, in spite o' mobs, At worth an' merit, By scoundrels, even wi' holy robes, But hellish spirit. O Ayr, my dear, my native ground, Of public teachers, As men, as Christians too, renown'd, Sir, in that circle you are named; Sir, in that circle you are famed; An' some by whom your doctrine's blamed, Even, Sir, by them your heart's esteem'd, Pardon this freedom I have ta'en, Whase heart ne'er wrang'd ye, But to his utmost would befriend Aught that belang'd ye. TO MR. M'ADAM, OF CRAIGEN-GILLAN, In answer to an obliging letter he sent in the commencement of my poetic career. SIR, o'er a gill I gat your card, I trow it made me proud; Now deil-ma-care about their jaw, 1 Did leap. I'll cock my nose aboon them a', 'Twas noble, Sir; 'twas like yoursel, Though, by his banes wha in a tub And when those legs to guid, warm kail, A lee' dyke'-side, a sybow3-tail, And barley-scone shall cheer me. Heaven spare you lang to kiss the breath And bless your bonnie lasses baith," And God bless young Dunaskin's laird, And may he wear an auld man's beard, TO TERRAUGHTY ON HIS BIRTH-DAY. HEALTH to the Maxwells' veteran chief; This natal morn, I see thy life is stuff o' prief,' Scarce quite half-worn. This day thou metes three-score eleven, 1 Shaded, or grassy.-2 Wall.-3 A sort of leek.-4 Cake.-5 Sunimers.— • Both.- Lovely girls. Mr. Maxwell, of Terraughty, near Dumfries.• Proof. (The second sight, ye ken, is given On thee a tack o' seven times seven If envious buckies view wi' sorrow, Rake them like Sodom and Gomorrah, But for thy friends, and they are monie, Wi' mornings blythe and e'enings funny, Fareweel, auld birkie! Lord be near ye, If neist my heart I dinna wear ye, While BURNS they ca' me. TO CAPTAIN RIDDEL, GLENRIDDEL. Extempore lines on returning a newspaper.) ELLISLAND, Monday Evening. YOUR news and review, Sir, I've read through and through, Sir, With little admiring or blaming; The papers are barren of home news or foreign, Our friends the reviewers, those chippers and hewers, Are judges of mortar and stone, Sir; But of meet, or unmeet, in a fabric complete, 'Brimstone dust.-2 Loving.-3 Clever fellow.-4 Dare not molest.- Next |