In spite o' crowds, in spite o' mobs, In spite o' dark banditti stabs At worth an' merit, By scoundrels, even wi' holy robes, O Ayr! my dear, my native ground, As men, as christians too, renown'd, Sir, in that circle you are nam'd; Even, sir, by them your heart's esteem'd, Pardon this freedom I have ta’en, Impute it not, good sir, in ane Whase heart ne'er wrang'd ye, But to his utmost would befriend SECOND EPISTLE TO DAVIE Second Epistle to Davie.1 AULD NEIBOUR, A BROTHER POET. I'm three times doubly o'er your debtor, Tho' I maun say't, I doubt ye flatter, Ye speak sae fair; For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter Some less maun sair.b Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle, Till bairns' bairns kindly cuddle Your auld grey hairs. But Davie, lad, I'm red ye're glaikitR; Until ye fyke; Sic haun's as you sud ne'er be faikit,h Be hain't wha like. For me, I'm on Parnassus brink, Rivin' the words to gar them clink; Whiles dazed wi' love, whiles dazed wi' drink, Wi' jads or masons; An' whiles, but aye owre late, I think Braw sober lessons. Of a' the thoughtless sons o' man, old-fashioned, pawky. b serve. • afraid you're foolish. 1 c elbow. { beaten. & fidget. j tearing. d strugglo. h dispensed with. Sillar printed this in an edition of his own poems, 1789. Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme o' livin, But just the pouchie put the neive in, An' while ought's there, Then, hiltie, skiltie, we gae scrievin,b An' fash nae mair. Leeze me ond rhyme! it's aye a treasure, e The muse, poor hizzie! Haud to the muse, my daintie Davie: Na, even tho' limpin wi' the spavie Frae door to door. Song. Young Peggy Blooms.1 Tune-"Loch Eroch-side." YOUNG Peggy blooms our boniest lass, The rosy dawn, the springing grass, never a bit. 4 commend me to. bhelter skelter we go careering. 1 Peggy was a Miss Kennedy, a kinswoman of Gavin Hamilton's wife. She did not marry "the highly favoured • trouble. f trick. youth," and was unfortunate in a life closed by an early death. (Chambers.) YOUNG PEGGY BLOOMS Her eyes outshine the radiant beams Her lips, more than the cherries bright, Were Fortune lovely Peggy's foe, Ye Pow'rs of Honour, Love, and Truth, Still fan the sweet connubial flame Song-Farewell to Ballochmyle.1 THE Catrine woods were yellow seen, Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while; Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers, Shall birdie charm, or floweret smile; Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle! Fragment-Her Flowing Locks.2 HER flowing locks, the raven's wing, Her lips are roses wat wi' dew, 1 Maria is Miss Whitefoord, daughter of Whitefoord of Ballochmyle, who was ruined by the failure of the Ayr Bank, referred to in St Ronan's Well. 2 If Miss Whitefoord is the heroine, she may well have admired the audacity of the singer. |