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From marking wildly-scatter'd flowers,
As on the banks of Ayr I stray'd,
And singing, lone, the lingering hours,
I shelter in thy honor'd shade.1

ADDRESS TO THE SHADE OF THOMSON,

ON CROWNING HIS BUST, AT EDNAM, ROXBURGHSHIRE, WITH BAYS. [Written by desire of the poet's friend, the Earl of Buchan.]

WHILE virgin Spring, by Eden's flood,
Unfolds her tender mantle green,

Or pranks the sod in frolic mood,
Or tunes Eolian strains between:
While Summer, with a matron grace,
Retreats to Dryburgh's cooling shade,
Yet oft, delighted, stops to trace
The progress of the spiky blade:
While Autumn, benefactor kind,
By Tweed erects his aged head,
And sees, with self-approving mind,
Each creature on his bounty fed:
While maniac Winter rages o'er

The hills whence classic Yarrow flows,
Rousing the turbid torrent's roar,

Or sweeping wild, a waste of snows:

So long, sweet Poet of the Year,

Shall bloom that wreath thou well hast won;

While SCOTIA, with exulting tear,

Proclaims that THOMSON was her son.

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THOU's welcome, wean, mishanter fa' me,

If aught of thee or of thy mammy,

1 This poem is chiefly remarkable for the grand stanzas on the castle and Holyrood with which it concludes.—Lockhart.

2 This “ Address" is omitted by Dr. Currie, and as its contents are rather of too indelicate a complexion to need elucidation, the commentator has withheld his pen.

Shall ever danton me or awe me,

My sweet wee lady,

Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me
Tit-ta or daddy.

Wee image of my bonnie Betty,
I, fatherly, will kiss an' daut thee,
Ás dear an' near my heart I set thee,
Wi' as gude will,

As a' the priests had seen me get
That's out o' h-ll.

What tho' they ca' me fornicator,
An' tease my name in kintry-clatter:
The mair they tauk I'm kent the better,
E'en let them clash;

An auld wife's tongue's a feckless matter
To gie ane fash.

Sweet fruit o' monie a merry dint,
My funny toil is now a' tint,

Sin' thou came to the warl' asklent,

Which fools may scoff at;
In my last plack thy part's be in 't-
The better half o't.

An' if thou be what I wad hae thee,
An' tak the counsel I shall gie thee,
A lovin' father I'll be to thee,

If thou be spared;

Thro' a' thy childish years I'll e'e thee,
An' think 't weel war'd.

Gude grant that thou may ay inherit
Thy mither's person, grace, an' merit,
An' thy poor worthless daddy's spirit,
Without his failin's!
'Twill please me mair to hear an' see't
Than stocket mailins.

13*

TO A HAGGIS.1

FAIR fa' your honest, sonsie2 face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin'-race!
Aboon3 them a' ye tak your place,

4

Painch, tripe, or thairm:"

Weel are ye wordy of a grace

As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o' need,

While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic labor dight,"
An' cut you up wi' ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright
Like onie ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reeking rich!

Then horn for horns they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve1o
Are bent like drums,

Then auld guidman, maist like to rive,“
Bethankit hums.

Is there that o'er his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw13 a sow,

Or fricassee wad make her spew

Wi' perfect sconner,

Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless15 as a wither'd rash,

4

1 A kind of pudding boiled in the stomach of a cow, or sheep.-2 Engaging, pleasing.-3 Above. - Paunch.-5 A small gut.-6 Worthy.-7 Wipc clean.- A spoon made of horn.-9 Bellies.-10 By and by.-11 To split.12 Grace after meat.-13 Surfeit.-14 Loathing.-15 Puny, weak.

His spindle-shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve' a nit;2

Thro' bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie3 nieve a blade,

He'll mak it whissle;

An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned,*
Like taps o' thrissle.5

Ye Powers wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups' in luggies;

But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!

ADDRESS TO THE TOOTHACHE.

My curse upon thy venom'd stang,
That shoots my tortured gums alang;
And thro' my lugs gies monie a twang,
Wi' gnawing vengeance;
Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang,
Like racking engines.

When fevers burn, or ague freezes,
Rheumatics gnaw, or colic squeezes;
Our neighbor's sympathy may ease us,
Wi' pitying moan;

But thee-thou hell o' a' diseases,

Ay mocks our groan!

Adown my beard the slavers trickle!

I throw the wee stools o'er the mickle,"

1 The fist.-2 Nut.-3 Large, ample.-4 To lop off-5 Tops of thistles.• Small portions.—7 A jerk of waters, or a thin potion that will jerk or quash like water.8 A small wooden dish with a handle. Ears. 10 The

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.3

As round the fire the giglets1 keckle2
To see me loup;3
While, raving mad, I wish a heckle1
Were in their doup."

8

9

O' a' the numerous human dools,"
Ill har'sts," daft bargains, cutty-stools,
Or worthy friends raked i' the mools,10
Sad sight to see!

The tricks o' knaves, or fash" o' fools,
Thou bear'st the-gree.12

Where'er that place be priests ca' hell,
Whence a' the tones o' misery yell,
And ranked plagues their numbers tell,
In dreadfu' raw,13

Thou, Toothache, surely bear'st the bell
Aboon1 them a'!

O thou grim, mischief-making chiel',
That gars1 the notes of discord squeel,
Till daft mankind aft dance a reel
In gore a shoe-thick,-

Gie a' the faes o' Scotland's weal

A towmond's16 Toothache!

TO A POSTHUMOUS CHILD,

BORN IN PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCES OF DISTRESS.

SWEET floweret, pledge o' meikle” love,
And ward o' monie a prayer,
What heart o' stane wad thou na move,
Sae helpless, sweet, and fair!

November hirples18 o'er the lea,
Chill, on thy lovely form;

- Fools.-2 Laugh.-3 Leap, jump.

* A board in which are driven a number of sharp iron pins, used for dressing hemp, flax, &c.

5 Backside.—6 Sorrows.—7 Bad harvests.-8 Foolish bargains.—9 Stool of repentance.-10 Laid in the grave.-11 Trouble.-12 The victory.-13 Row. —14 Above. -15 Makes,-16 A twelvemonth. -17 Much.-18 Creeps, or limps.

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