ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS. My son, these Maxims make a rule, The cleanest corn that e'er was dight For random fits o' daffin. SOLOMON.-Eccles. ch. vii. ver. 16. I. OYE wha are sae guid yoursel, Sae pious and sae holy, Ye've nought to do but mark and tell, Your Neebor's fauts and folly! ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, &c. Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill, II. Hear me, ye venerable Core, As counsel for poor mortals. I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes, Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,..... Their failings and.mischances. III. Ye see your state wi' their's compar'd, And shudder at the niffer, But cast a moment's fair regard, What maks the mighty differ? And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, &c. TV. "Think, when your castigated pulse, Gies now and then a wallop, "Wï' wind and tide fair i̇' your tail, It maks an unco lee-way. V. See Social life and Glee sit down, All joyous and unthinking, Till, quite transmugrify'd, they're grown, Debauchery and Drinking: *O would they stay to calculate Th' eternal consequences; Or your more dreaded hell to state, D-mnation of expences! VI. Ye high, exalted, virtuous Dames, Ty'd up in Godly laces, Before ye gie poor Frailty names, ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, &c. A dear-lov'd lad, convenience snug, VII. Then gently scan your brother Man, Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, One point must still be greatly dark, VIII. Who made the heart, 'tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord, its various tone, Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted. DESPONDENCY, AN ODE. I. OPPRESS'D with grief, oppress'd with care, A burden more than I can bear, O life! thou art a galling load, Too justly I may fear! Still caring, despairing, Must be my bitter doom; My woes here, shall close ne'er VOL I. |