Mr. ER-NE. Collected Harry stood awee, Then open'd out his arm, man; And ey'd the gathering storm, man: Or torrents owre a lin, man; VERSES TO J. RANKEN, (The person to whom his poem on shooting the partridge is addressed, while Ranken occupied the farm of Adamhill, in Ayrshire.) Ae day, as Death, that grusome carl, By Adamhill a glance he threw, "L-d God! (quoth he) I have it now, The word wintle denotes sudden and involuntary motion. In the ludicrous sense in which it is here applied, it may be admirably translated, by the vulgar London expression, of dancing upon nothing. There's just the man I want, i' faith," On hearing that there was falsehood in the Rev. Dr. B's very looks. That there is falsehood in his looks, And sure they do not lie. On a Schoolmaster in Cleish Parish, Fifeshire. Here He Willie M-hie's banes, O Satan, when ye tak him, ADDRESS TO GENERAL DUMOURIER. (A Parody on Robin Adair.) You're welcome to despots, Dumourier; You're welcome to despots, Dumourier. How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier? * The first thought of this poem seems to have been suggested by Falstaffs account of his ragged recruits passing through Coventry. "I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat!" I will fight France with you, Dumourier,- I will take my chance with you; By my soul I'll dance a dance with you, Dumourier. Then let us fight about, Dumourier; Then let us fight about, Dumourier ; Then let us fight about, "Till freedom's spark is out, Then we'll be d-mned no doubt-Dumourier. ELEGY ON THE YEAR 1788. A Sketch. For lords or kings I dinna mourn, A towmontt, sirs, is gane to wreek! The Spanish empire's tint a head, An' my auld teethless Bawtie's dead; It is almost needless to observe, that the song of Robin Adair begins thus: You're welcome to Paxton, Robin Adair ; Ay, and Luke Gardener too? Why did they not come along with you, Robin Adair? A towmons-a twelvemonth. The tulzie's sair 'tween Pitt an' Fox, The tither's something dour o' treadin, Ye ministers, come mount the poupit, Ye bonnie lasses, dight your e'en, For some o' you ha'e tint a frien'; In Eighty-eight, ye ken, was ta'en What ye'll ne'er ha'e to gie again. Observe the very nowt an' sheep, How dowf and daviely they creep; Nay, even the yirth itsel does cry, For E'nbrugh wells are grutten dry. O Eighty-nine, thou's but a bairn, An' no o'er auld. I hope, to learn! Thou beardless boy, I pray tak care, Thou now hast got thy daddy's chair, Nae hand-cuff'd, mizl'd, hap-shackl'd regent, But, like himsel, a full free agent. Be sure ye follow out the plan Nae waur than he did, honest man! As muckle better as you can. January 1, 1789. } VERSES, Written under the portrait of Fergusson, the poet, Curse on ungrateful man, that can be pleas'd, * This apostrophe to Fergusson, bears a striking affinity to one in Burns's poems. See vol. iii. p. 141. O Fergusson! thy glorious parts My curse upon your whunstane hearts, Ye E'nbrugh gentry! The tythe o' what ye waste at cartes Wad stow'd his pantry! This was writtén before Burns visited the Scottish capital. Even without a poet's susceptibility we may feel how the prophetic parallel of Fergus son's case with his own must have pressed on the memory of our bard, when he paid his second tribute of affection to his elder brother in misfortune. E. 1 |