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"May ne'er Misfortune's gowlinga bark,
Howl thro' the dwelling o' the clerk!
May ne'er his gen'rous, honest heart,
For that same gen'rous spirit smart!
May Kennedy's far-honour'd name 1
Lang beet his hymeneal flame,
Till Hamiltons, at least a dizzen,
Are frae their nuptial labours risen:
Five bonie lasses round their table,
And sev'n braw fellows, stout an' able,
To serve their king an' country weel,
By word, or pen, or pointed steel!
May health and peace, with mutual rays,
Shine on the ev'ning o' his days;
Till his wee, curlie John's ier-oe, d
When ebbing life nae mair shall flow,
The last, sad, mournful rites bestow!"

I will not wind a lang conclusion,
With complimentary effusion;
But, whilst your wishes and endeavours
Are blest with Fortune's smiles and favours,
I am, dear sir, with zeal most fervent,
Your much indebted, humble servant.

But if (which Pow'rs above prevent)
That iron-hearted carl, Want,
Attended, in his grim advances,
By sad mistakes, and black mischances,
While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him,
Make you as poor a dog as I am,

Your humble servant' then no more;
For who would humbly serve the poor?
But, by a poor man's hopes in Heav'n!
While recollection's pow'r is giv'n—
If, in the vale of humble life,

⚫ howling.

The victim sad of fortune's strife,

b lawyer.

• fan.

1 The name of Mr Hamilton's wife.

4 great-grandchild.

I, thro' the tender-gushing tear,
Should recognise my master dear;
If friendless, low, we meet together,

Then, sir, your hand-my friend and brother!

Versified Note to Dr Mackenzie, Mauchline.1

FRIDAY first's the day appointed
By the Right Worshipful anointed,
To hold our grand procession;
To get a blada o' Johnie's morals,
And taste a swatch o' Manson's barrels
I' the way of our profession.
The Master and the Brotherhood
Would a' be glad to see you;

For me I would be mair than proud
To share the mercies wi' you.

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Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortune's slidd'ry ba";
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I'll mind you still, tho' far awa

Oft have I met your social band,
And spent the cheerful, festive night;
Oft, honour'd with supreme command,
Presided o'er the sons of light:
And by that hieroglyphic bright,
Which none but Craftsmen ever saw
Strong Mem'ry on my heart shall write
Those happy scenes, when far awa.

May Freedom, Harmony, and Love,
Ünite you in the grand Design,
Beneath th' Omniscient Eye above,
The glorious Architect Divine,
That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet's law,
Till Order bright completely shine,
Shall be my pray'r when far awa.

And you, farewell! whose merits claim
Justly that highest badge to wear :
Heav'n bless your honour'd, noble name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear!"1
A last request permit me here,—
When yearly ye assemble a',
One round, I ask it with a tear,

To him, the Bard that's far awa.

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1 Captain James Montgomery is he being then Grand Master of the apparently the person addressed here,

St James Lodge.

On a Scotch Bard,

Gone to the West Indies.1

A'YE wha live by sowpsa o' drink,
A' ye wha live by crambo-clink,"
A' ye wha live and never think,

Come, mourn wi' me!

Our billie "'s gien us a' a jink,d2
An' owre the sea!

Lament him a' ye rantin' core,
Wha dearly like a random splore";
Nae mair he'll join the merry roar,
In social key;

For now he's taen anither shore,8
An' owre the sea!

The bonie lasses weel may wiss him,
And in their dear petitions place him*;
The widows, wives, an' a' may bless him
Wi' tearfu' e'e;

For weel I wat they'll sairly miss him
That's owre the sea!

O Fortune, they hae room to grumble!
Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle,'
Wha can do nought but fykes an' fumble,
"Twad been nae plea;

But he was gleg as ony wumble,h

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Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers wear,
An' stain them wi' the saut, saut tear;
"Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,
In flindersb flee:

He was her Laureat mony a year,

That's owre the sea!

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To tremble under Fortune's cummock,d
On scarce a bellyfu' o' drummock,
Wi' his proud, independent stomach,
Could ill agree;

So, row't his hurdies' in a hammock,
An' owre the sea.

He ne'er was gien to great misguidin,
Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in;
Wi' him it ne'er was under hidin;
He dealt it free:

The Muse was a' that he took pride in,
That's owre the sea.

Jamaica bodies, use him weel,
An' hap him in a cozie biel":

Ye'll find him aye a dainty chiel,b
An' fou o' glee:

He wad na wrang'd the vera deil,
That's owre the sea.

Fareweel, my rhyme-composing billie !1
Your native soil was right ill-willie1;

stripes of white muslin on the cuffs of mourners.


d cudgel.

• comfortable home.

• meal and water.
h fellow.

1 "Then fare-ye-weel, my rhymin billie."

b fragments ' haunches.

1 unkind.

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