THE KIRK OF LAMINGTON. As cauld a wind as ever blew, TO MISS C.-WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF ONE OF THOU flattering mark of friendship kind, The dear, the beauteous donor: Yet deviating, own I must, For so approving me. But kind still, I'll mind still The giver in the gift; I'll bless her and wiss her A Friend above the Lift.2 INSCRIPTION ON A GOBLET. THERE's death in the cup-sae beware! The man and his wine sae bewitching! THE BOOK-WORMS.3 THROUGH and through the inspired leaves, 1 Hot. 2 Sky. 3 Suggested by a splendidly bound, but worm-eaten copy of Shakspeare. ON ROBERT RIDDEL. To Riddel, much-lamented man, WILLIE CHALMERS.1 Wr' braw new branks in mickle pride, And up Parnassus pechin;3 Whiles owre a bush wi' downward crush, I doubt na, lass, that weel-kenn'd name I am nae stranger to your fame, His honest heart enamours, Tho' waired on Willie Chalmers. Auld Truth hersel' might swear ye're fair, I doubt nae fortune may you shore And band upon his breastie: 1 Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows.-R. B. 2 With new bridle and collar. 3 Panting. 4 Gentle-mouthed. But oh! what signifies to you, Some gapin' glowrin' countra laird Seek Heaven for help, and barefit skelp Forgive the Bard! my fond regard, To TO JOHN TAYLOR.2 WITH Pegasus upon a day, Through frosty hills the journey lay, Poor slip-shod giddy Pegasus Obliging Vulcan fell to work, Threw by his coat and bonnet, Ye Vulcan's sons of Wanlockhead, My Pegasus is poorly shod I'll pay you like my master. 1 Praise. 2 Burns, during one of his excise journeys, on a winter day, found it necessary to get his horse's shoes "roughed." The blacksmith was ver busy; and the Poet sought Mr. Taylor's influence in obtaining his aid. R LINES WRITTEN ON A BANK-NOTE. The following verses, in the hand-writing of Burns, were copied from a bank-note, in the possession of Mr. James F. Gracie, of Dumfries. The note is of the Bank of Scotland, and is dated on the 1st of March, 1780. WAE worth thy power, thou cursed leaf! For lack o' thee I leave this much-lov'd shore, BURNS-EXTEMPORE. YE true 'Loyal Natives," attend to my song, REMORSE.2 Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace, That to our folly, or our guilt, we owe. 1 The political fever ran high in 1794, and a member of a club at Dumfries, called the Loyal Natives, in a violent paroxysm, produced some verses to which Burns gave the extempore reply. 2 I entirely agree with that judicious philosopher, Mr. Smith, in his excellent "Theory of Moral Sentiments," that remorse is the most painful sentiment that can embitter the human bosom. Any ordinary pitch of fortitude may bear up tolerably well under those calamities in the procurement of which we ourselves have had no hand; but when our own follies or crimes have made us miserable and wretched, to bear up with manly firmness, and at the same time have a proper penitential sense of our misconduct, is a, glorious effort of self-command.-R. B. In every other circumstance, the mind This sting is added-" Blame thy foolish self!" Lives there a man so firm, who, while his heart 66 'IN VAIN WOULD PRUDENCE." IN vain would Prudence, with decorous sneer, 66 I know its worst-and do that worst despise. 1 A proverb for a drinker. 2 Climb. |