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Some rhyme, a neebor's name to lash;

Some rhyme (vain thought!) for needfu' cash;
Some rhyme to court the countra clash,1
An' raise a din;

For me, an aim I never fash!2

I rhyme for fun.

The star that rules my luckless lot,
Has fated me the russet coat,

An' damn'd my fortune to the groat;
But, in requit,

Has bless'd me wi' a random shot
O' countra wit.

This while my notion 's taen a sklent,*
To try my fate in guid black prent;
But still the mair I'm that way bent,

Something cries—“ Hoolie !"

I red you, honest man, tak tent!"

Ye'll shaw your folly.

"There's ither poets, much your betters,
Far seen in Greek, deep men o' letters,
Hae thought they had insured their debtors
A' future ages;

Now moths deform in shapeless tetters
Their unknown pages.'

Then fareweel hopes o' laurel-boughs,

To garland my poetic brows!

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Henceforth I'll rove where busy ploughs
Are whistling thrang,

And teach the lanely heights an' howes
My rustic sang.

I'll wander on wi' tentless' heed
How never-halting moments speed,
Till fate shall snap the brittle thread;
Then, all unknown,

I'll lay me with th' inglorious dead,

Forgot and gone!

1 Country talk.-2 To care for.- Doomed me to poverty.-4 Aslant.

• Take time and consider.-6 Counsel.-7 Take heed.-8 Hollows, or dales.

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But why o' death begin a tale?
Just now we're living, sound, and hale,
Then top and main-top crowd the sail,
Heave care owre-side!

And large, before enjoyment's gale,
Let's tak the tide.

This life, sae far's I understand,
Is a' enchanted, fairy land,

Where pleasure is the magic wand,

That, wielded right,

Maks hours like minutes, hand in hand,
Dance by fu' light.

The magic wand then let us wield;
For, ance1 that five-an'-forty 's speel'd,"
See crazy, weary, joyless eild,3

3

Wi' wrinkled face,

Come hostin', hirplin', owre the field,
Wi' creepin' pace.

When ance life's day draws near the gloamin',
Then fareweel vacant careless roamin':
An' fareweel cheerfu' tankards foamin',
An' social noise;

An' fareweel, dear, deluding woman,
The joy of joys!

O Life! how pleasant in thy morning,
Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning!
Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning,
We frisk away,

Like school-boys at th' expected warning,
To joy and play.

We wander there, we wander here,
We eye the rose upon the brier,
Unmindful that the thorn is near
Amang the leaves;

And tho' the puny wound appear,

Short while it grieves.

1 Once.-2 To climb.- Old age.- Coughing.-5 Hobbling. Twilight,

.1

Some, lucky, find a flowery spot,
For which they never toil'd nor swat;'
They drink the sweet, and eat the fat,
But' care or pain;

And, haply, eye the barren hut

With high disdain.

With steady aim some fortune chase;
Keen Hope does every sinew brace;
Thro' fair, thro' foul, they urge the race,
And seize the prey;

Then cannie,3 in some cozie1 place,
They close the day.

And others, like your humble servan',
Poor wights! nae rules nor roads observin',
To right or left, eternal swervin',

They zig-zag on;

Till curst with age, obscure an' starvin',
They aften groan.

Alas! what bitter toil an' straining-
But truce with peevish, poor complaining!
Is Fortune's fickle luna waning?

E'en let her gang!

Beneath what light she has remaining
Let's sing our sang.

My pen I here fling to the door,

And kneel, "Ye Powers!" and warm implore,
"Though I should wander terra o'er,

In all her climes,

Grant me but this, I ask no more,
Ay rowth o' rhymes.

"Gie dreeping roasts to countra lairds,
Till icicles hang frae their beards;
Gie fine braw claes" to fine life-guards,
And maids of honor:

And yill' an' whisky gie to cairds,*

Until they sconner."

"A title, Dempster10 merits it;

A garter gie to Willie Pitt;

1 Did sweat.-2 Without.-3 Dexterously.-4 Snug.-5 Plenty.-6 Clothes. — Ale.—8 Tinkers.- Loathe it.-10 George Dempster, Esq., of Dunnichen.

Gie wealth to some be-ledger'd cit,

In cent. per cent.;

But gie me real, sterling wit,

And I'm content.

"While ye are pleased to keep me hale,
I'll sit down o'er my scanty meal,
Be 't water-brose' or muslin-kail,"
Wi' cheerfu' face,

As lang's the Muses dinna fail
To say the grace."

An anxious e'e I never throws
Behint my lug, or by my nose;
I jouk3 beneath misfortune's blows
As weel's I may;

Sworn foe to sorrow, care, and prose,
I rhyme away.

O ye douce1 folk that live by rule,
Grave, tideless-blooded, calm and cool,
Compared wi' you-O fool! fool! fool!
How much unlike!

Your hearts are just a standing pool,
Your lives, a dyke!

Nae hair-brain'd, sentimental traces
In your unletter'd, nameless faces!
In arioso trills and graces

Ye never stray,

But, gravissimo, solemn basses

Ye hum away.

Ye are sae grave, nae doubt ye 're wise;
Nae ferly' tho' you do despise

The harum-scarum, ram-stamR boys,
The rattlin' squad:

I see you upward cast your eyes-
Ye ken the road.—

Whilst I-but I shall haud me there-
Wi' you I'll scarce gang onie where-

1 Made of meal and water only.-2 Broth, composed of water, shelled barley, and greens.-3 To stoop.-4 Wise.-5 With contempt.-6 Thoughtless.

Then, Jamie, I shall say nae mair,
But quit my sang,

Content wi' you to make a pair,
Where'er I gang.

TO JOHN LAPRAIK,

AN OLD SCOTTISH BARD.

APRIL 1, 1785.

WHILE briers an' woodbines budding green,
An' paitricks' scraichin' loud at e’en,
An' morning pousie whiddin" seen,
Inspire my Muse,

This freedom in an unknown frien'
I pray excuse.

On Fasten-e'en we had a rockin',"
To ca' the crack and weave the stockin';
And there was muckle fun an' jockin',

Ye need nae doubt;

At length we had a hearty yokin'

At sang about.

There was ae sang," amang the rest,
Aboon them a' it pleased me best,
That some kind husband had addrest

To some sweet wife:

1 Partridges.-2 A hare.-3 Running as a hare does.-4 Fastens-even. 5 This is a term derived from those primitive times, when the country women employed their leisure hours in spinning on the rock or distaff. This instrument being very portable, was well fitted to accompany its owner to a neighbor's house; hence the phrase of going a rocking or with the rock. The connection, however, which the phrase had with the implement was forgotten after the rock gave place to the spinning-wheel, and men talked of going a-rocking as well as women. It was at one of these rockings, or social parties, that Mr. Lapraik's song was sung. Burns being informed who was the author, wrote his first epistle to Lapraik; and his second in reply to his

answer.

• To call upon some one in the company for a song or a story.

7 The song here alluded to was written by Mr. Lapraik after sustaining a considerable pecuniary loss. In consequence of some connection as security for several persons concerned in the failure of the Ayr bank, he was obliged to sell his farm of Dalfram, near Muirkirk. One day, while his wife was fret

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