Our sex with guile, and faithless love, But may, dear maid, each lover prove MR. WILLIAM SMELLIE-A SKETCH SHREWD Willie Smellie to Crochallan came; His heart was warm, benevolent, and good. RATTLIN, ROARIN WILLIE' As I cam by Crochallan, Was sittin at yon boord-en'; And amang gude companie; You're welcome hame to me! SONG-BONIE DUNDEE My blessins upon thy sweet wee lippie! My blessins upon thy e'e-brie! Thy smiles are sae like my blythe sodger laddie, 1 William Dunbar, W.S., of the Crochallan Fencibles, a convivial club. But I'll big a bow'r on yon bonie banks, And mak thee a man like thy daddie dear. EXTEMPORE IN THE COURT OF SESSION LORD ADVOCATE HE clenched his pamphlet in his fist, He gaped for't, he grapèd for't, He fand it was awa, man; But what his common sense came short, MR. ERSKINE Collected, Harry stood awee, Then open'd out his arm, man; His Lordship sat wi' ruefu' e'e, And ey'd the gathering storm, man: Like wind-driven hail it did assail, Or torrents owre a lin, man: The BENCH sae wise lift up their eyes, INSCRIPTION FOR THE HEADSTONE OF FERGUSSON THE POET' No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, 1 The stone was erected at Burns's expense in February-March, 1789. This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way, ADDITIONAL STANZAS She mourns, sweet tuneful youth, thy hapless fate; And, thankless, starv'd what they so much admired. This tribute, with a tear, now gives A brother Bard-he can no more bestow: INSCRIBED UNDER FERGUSSON'S PORTRAIT CURSE on ungrateful man, that can be pleased, EPISTLE TO MRS. SCOTT Gudewife of Wauchope-House, Roxburghshire. I MIND it weel in early date, An' wi' the lave ilk merry morn E'en then, a wish, (I mind its pow'r,) A wish that to my latest hour Shall strongly heave my breast, That I for poor auld Scotland's sake Some usefu' plan or book could make, Or sing a sang at least. The rough burr-thistle, spreading wide I turn'd the weeder-clips aside, My envy e'er could raise; I knew nae higher praise. But still the elements o' sang, 'Till on that har'st I said before, At every kindling keek, Health to the sex! ilk guid chiel says: The gust o' joy, the balm of woe, Ye surly sumphs, who hate the name, For you, no bred to barn and byre, May losses and crosses Ne'er at your hallan ca'! R. BURNS. VERSES INTENDED TO BE WRITTEN BELOW A NOBLE EARL'S PICTURE1 WHOSE is that noble, dauntless brow? And whose that generous princely mien, 1 The Nobleman is James, Fourteenth Earl of Glencairn. |