In comes a gaucie1 gash Guidwife, An' sits down by the fire, Syne draws her kebbuck an' her knife, The auld guidmen, about the grace, Frae side to side they bother, Waesucks! for him that gets nae lass, On sic a day! Now Clinkumbell 5, wi' rattling tow, Some swagger hame, the best they dow", 8 At slaps the billies halt a blink, Till lasses strip their shoon : Wi' faith an' hope,, an' love an' drink, They're a' in famous tune For crack that day. 1 jolly. EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND. May 1786. I lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend, Than just a kind memento; 6 to peal or roar. 8 7 they can. gaps in fences. the bell-ringer. Andrew Aiken. But how the subject-theme may gang, Let time and chance determine ; Ye'll try the world soon, my lad, I'll no say, men are villains a'; But, och mankind are unco weak, If self the wavering balance shake, Yet they wha fa" in fortune's strife, They equally may answer; Yet hae nae cash to spare him. Aye free, aff-han' your story tell, Conceal yoursel as weel's ye can But keek thro' ev'ry other man, 1 fall. 2 poverty. peep. VOL. III. The sacred lowe1 o' weel-placed love, But never tempt th' illicit rove, Tho' naething should divulge it; To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, And gather gear by ev'ry wile The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip, And resolutely keep its laws, The great Creator to revere, Must sure become the creature ; Yet ne'er with wits profane to range, An atheist-laugh's a poor exchange When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded; Or, if she gie a random sting, It may be little minded; 1 flame. Nn But when on life we're tempest-driv'n— Adieu, dear amiable Youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting! In ploughman phrase, 'God send you speed,' And may you better reck the rede2, Than ever did th' Adviser! 1 without. A BARD'S EPITAPH. Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, And owre this grassy heap sing dool, Is there a bard of rustic song, Who, noteless, steals the crowds among, O, pass not by ! But, with a frater-feeling strong, Here, heave a sigh. Is there a man whose judgment clear, Here pause-and, thro' the starting tear, 2 heed the counsel. 3 bashful. • submit tamely. The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn, and wise to know, And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, Reader, attend-whether thy soul Know, prudent, cautious self-control FROM THE EPISTLE TO MRS. SCOTT OF WAUCHOPE. 1 tired. I mind it weel, in early date, When I was beardless, young, and blate, And wi' the lave3 ilk merry morn Ev'n then a wish (I mind its power), Shall strongly heave my breast; 6 5 gossip. nonsense. |