sing the loves, the joys, the rural scenes and rural pleasures of my native Soil, in my native tongue: I tuned my wild, artless notes, as she inspired.----Sbe zobispered me to come to this ancient metropolis of Caledonia, and lay my Songs under your bonoured protection : I now obey ber 'dictates.

Though much indebted to your goodness, I do not approach you my Lords and Gentlemen, in the usual stile of dedication, to thank you for past favours, that path is so backneyed by prostituted Learning, that honest Rusticity is asbamed of it.--- Nor do I present this Address with the venal soul of a servile Author, looking for a continuation of those favours: I was bred to the Plough, and am independent. I come to claim the common Scottish name with yol, my il

lustrious

lustrious Countrymen; and to tell the world that I glory in the title.--- I come to congratulate my Country, that the blood of ber ancient beroes still runs uncontaminated; and that from your coxrage, knowledge, and public spirit, she may expect protection, wealth and liberty.--- In the last place, I come to proffer my warmest wishes to the Great Fountain of Honour, the Monarch of the Universe, for your welfare and happi

ness.

amusement af

When you go forth to waken the Echoes, in the ancient and favourite

your Forefathers, may Pleasure ever be of your party; and may Social-joy await your return! When barassed in courts or camps withthe

justlings of bad men and bad measures, may the honest consciousness of injured

Worth

Worth attend your return to your native Seats; and may Domestic Happiness, with a smiling welcome, meet you at your gates! May Corruption shrink at your kindling indignant glance ; and

may tyranny in the Ruler and licentiousness in the People equally find you an inexorable foe! I have the honour to be, With the sincerest gratitude and

highest respect,

MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN, Your most devoted bumble servant,

ROBERT BURNS.

EDINBURGH,
April 4. 1787

POEMS,

Ρ Μ
POE M S

,

CHIEFLY

SCOTTIS H.

KO

THE

TWA DOGS.

A

TAL E.

'Twas in that place oʻScotland's ille,

That bears the name o? AuldsKing Coil,
*Upon a bonie day in June,
When wearing throl the afternoon,
Twa dogs that were na thrang at hame,
Forgather'd ance upon a time,
VOL. I.
B

THE

The first I'll name, they ca'd him Cæsar,

Was keepit for his Honor's pleasure :
His hair, his fize, his mouth, his lugs,
Shew'd he was nane o' Scotland's dogs,
But whelpit some place far abroad,

Where failors gang to fish for Cod.

His locked, letter'd, braw brass collar,
Shew'd him the gentleman and scholar:
But though he was o' high degree,
The fient a pride na pride had he;
But wad hae spent an hour careslin,
Ev'n wi' a tinkler-gypsey's mesin :
At kirk or market, mill or smiddie,

>

Nae tawted tyke, tho' e'er so dudaie,
But he wad stan't, as glad to see him,
And ftroan’t on ftanes an' hillocks wi' him.

The tither was a ploughman's collie,

A rhyming,