1

Even then, sometimes, we'd snatch a taste
Of truest happiness.

The honest heart that's free frae a'
Intended fraud or guile,

However Fortune kick'd the ba',
Has ay some cause to smile:
And mind still, you'll find still,
A comfort this nae sma';
Nae mair then, we 'll care then,
Nae farther can we fa'.

What tho', like commoners of air,
We wander out, we know not where,
But' either house or hall?

Yet Nature's charms, the hills and woods,
The sweeping vales and foaming floods,
Are free alike to all.

In days when daisies deck the ground,
And blackbirds whistle clear,
With honest joy our hearts will bound,
To see the coming year:

On braes when we please, then,
We'll sit an' sowth' a tune;

4

Syne3 rhyme till 't, we 'll time till 't,
And sing 't when we hae done.

It's no in titles nor in rank;

It's no in wealth like Lon'on bank,
To purchase peace and rest:
It's no in makin' muckle mair;5
It's no in books; it's no in lear,
To make us truly blest:
If happiness hae not her seat
And centre in the breast,
We may be wise, or rich, or great,
But never can be blest:

Nae treasures, nor pleasures,
Could make us happy lang;
The heart ay 's the part ay,

That makes us right or wrang.

Think ye, that sic as you and I,

Wha drudge and drive thro' wet an' dry,

1 Without.-2 Hum, or whistle.-3 Then.-4 To it.-5 Much more.

Wi' never-ceasing toil;

Think ye, are we less blest than they,
Wha scarcely tent us in their way,

As hardly worth their while?
Alas! how aft in haughty mood,
God's creatures they oppress!
Or else, neglecting a' that's good,
They riot in excess!

Baith careless and fearless
Of either heaven or hell!
Esteeming and deeming

It's a' an idle tale!

Then let us cheerfu' acquiesce;
Nor make our scanty pleasures less,
By pining at our state;

And even should misfortunes come,
I, here wha sit, hae met wi' some,
An''s thankfu' for them yet.
They gie the wit o' age to youth;
They let us ken oursel;

They make us see the naked truth,
The real good and ill.

Tho' losses and crosses

Be lessons right severe,
There's wit there, ye'll get there,
Ye'll find nae other where.

But tent me, Davie, ace o' hearts!
(To say aught less wad wrang the cartes,
And flattery I detest,)

This life has joys for you and I;

And joys that riches ne'er could buy;
And joys the very best.

There's a' the pleasures o' the heart,
The lover an' the frien';

Ye hae your Meg, your dearest part,
And I, my darling Jean!

It warms me, it charms me,
To mention but her name:

It heats me, it beets1 me,
And sets me a' on flame!

1 Adds fuel to fire.

O all ye powers who rule above!
O Thou, whose very self art love!
Thou know'st my words sincere!
The life-blood streaming thro' my heart,
Or my more dear immortal part,
Is not more fondly dear!
When heart-corroding care and grief
Deprive my soul of rest,
Her dear idea brings relief
And solace to my breast.
Thou Being, all-seeing,

Oh hear my fervent prayer;
Still take her, and make her
Thy most peculiar care!

All hail, ye tender feelings dear!
The smile of love, the friendly tear,
The sympathetic glow;

Long since, this world's thorny ways
Had number'd out my weary days;
Had it not been for you!

Fate still has blest me with a friend,
In every care and ill;

And oft a more endearing band,
A tie more tender still:

It lightens, it brightens
The tenebrific1 scene,
To meet with and greet with,
My Davie or my Jean.

Oh, how that name inspires my style!
The words come skelpin" rank and file,
Amaist before I ken!

The ready measure rins as fine,
As Phoebus and the famous Nine
Were glow'rin" o'er my pen.

My spaviet1 Pegasus will limp,
Till ance he's fairly het;5

And then he'll hilch, and stilt," and jimp,"
An' rin an unco fit:9

1 Dark, gloomy.-2 Tripping.-3 Looking.-4 Having the spavin.- Heated. — Hobble.—7 Limp, or halt.-8 Jump.-9 Go speedily.

But lest then, the beast then
Should rue this hasty ride,
I'll light now, and dight now,
His sweaty, wizen'd' hide.

AULD NEEBOR

TO THE SAME.

I'm three times doubly o'er your debtor,
For your auld-farrant, frien'ly letter
Tho' I maun say 't, I doubt ye flatter,
Ye speak sae fair;

For my puir, silly, rhymin' clatter,
Some less maun sair.a

Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle;
Lang may your elbuck" jink an' diddle,
To cheer you thro' the weary widdle
O' war'ly cares,

Till bairns' bairns' kindly cuddle

Your auld, gray hairs.

But, Davie lad, I'm redR ye 're glaikit;"
I'm tauld the Muse ye hae negleckit;
An' gif1o it's sae, ye sud" be licket12
Until ye fyke;13

Sic hauns as you sud ne'er be faikit,“
Be hain't wha like.

For me, I'm on Parnassus' brink,
Rivin' the words to gar them clink;
Whyles dais't1 wi' love, whyles dais't wi' drink,
Wi' jads" or masons;

An' whyles, but ay owre late, I think

1 Shrunk, hide-bound.

Braw sober lessons.

2 This is prefixed to the poems of David Sillar, published at Kilmarnock, 1789.

3 Sagacious.-4 Must serve.-5 Elbow. A sudden turning.-7 Children's children..—8 Informed. Inattentive, foolish.—10 If.—11 Should.—12 Licked, beaten.-13 Become agitated.-14 Such hands as you should ne'er be unknown.-15 Spared, or excused.-16 Sometimes stupified.-17 Women.

Of a' the thoughtless sons o' man,
Commen' me to the Bardie clan;
Except it be some idle plan

O' rhymin' clink,

The devil-haet,' that I sud ban,2

They ever think.

Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme o' livin',
Nae cares to gie us joy or grievin';

But just the pouchie3 put the nieve in,
An' while aught 's there,

Then, hiltie, skiltie, we gae scrievin',5
An' fash nae mair.

Leeze me on rhyme! it's aye a treasure,
My chief, amaist my only pleasure,

8

At hame, a-fiel', at wark or leisure,

The Muse, poor hizzie!

Though rough an' raploch' be her measure,
She's seldom lazy.

Haud" to the Muse, my dainty Davie;
The warl' may play you monie a shavie;
But for the Muse, she 'll never leave ye,
Tho' e'er sae puir,

Na, even tho' limpin' wi' the spavie"
Frae door to door.

TO MR. WILLIAM TYTLER,

With a portrait of the Author.

Edinburgh, 1787.

REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart,

Of Stuart, a name once respected,

A name, which to love was the mark of a true heart,
But now 'tis despised and neglected.

Tho' something like moisture conglobes in my eye,
Let no one misdeem me disloyal;

Dashing

1 The devil forbid.-2 Swear.-3 Pouch, or purse.-4 The hand. away.-6 Care for nothing more.-7 A phrase of endearment.-8 In the field. —9 Coarse.—10 Hold.-11 Spavin.