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DEDICATION,

ΤΟ

GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ.

EXPECT

na, Sir, in this narration,
A fleechin, fleth'rin Dedication,
To roose you up, an' ca' you guid,
An' sprung o' great an' noble bluid,
Because ye're sirnam'd like His Grace,
Perhaps related to the race;

Then when I'm tir'd-and sae are ye,
Wi' mony a fulsome, sinfu' lie,
Set up a face, how I stop short,

For fear your modesty be hurt.

This may do-maun do, Sir, wi' them wha Maun please the Great Folk for a wamefou; For me! sae laigh I needna bow,

For Lord be thankit, I can plough ;
And when I downa yoke a naig,
Then, Lord be thankit, I can beg!

A DEDICATION TO GAVIN HAMILTON ESQ.

Sae I shall say, an' that's nae flatt'rin,
It's just sic Poet, an' sic Patron.

The Poet, some guid Angel help him,
Or else, I fear some ill ane skelp him.
do weel for a' he's done yet,
But only he's no just begun yet.

He

may

The Patron, (Sir, ye maun forgie me,
I winna lie, come what will o' me)
On ev'ry hand it will allow'd be,
He's just nae better than he should be.

I readily and freely grant,

He downa see a poor man want!
What's no his ain he winna tak it,

What ance he says he winna break it!
Ought he can lend he'll no refus'd,
Till aft his guidness is abus'd:

And rascals whyles that do him wrang,
Ev'n that, he does na mind it lang:
As Master, Landlord, Husband, Father,
He does na fail his part in either.

But then, nae thanks to him for a' that Nae godly symptom ye can ca' that,

་་་་་་་

A DEDICATION TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ

It's naething but a milder feature,

Of our poor, sinfu', corrupt Nature :
Ye'll get the best o' moral works,

'Mang black Gentoos and Pagan Turks,
Or hunters wild on Ponotaxi,

Wha never heard of Orthodoxy,
That he's the poor man's friend in need,
The Gentleman in word and deed,
It's no thro' terror o' damnation;
It's just a carnal inclination.

Morality, thou deadly bane,

Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain !
Vain is his hope, whose stay and trust is
In moral Mercy, Truth, and Justice!

No-stretch a point to catch a plack;
Abuse a brother to his back;

Steal thro' a winnock frae a wh-re,
But point the Rake that taks the door;
Be to the Poor,like ony whunstane,
And haud their noses to the grunstane:
Ply ev'ry art o' legal thieving;
No matters stick, to sound believing.

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A DEDICATION TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ.

Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces, Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang, wry faces; Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan, And damn a' parties but your own ; I'll warrant then, ye're nae Deceiver, A steady, sturdy, staunch Believer.

O ye wha leave the springs of C-lv-n,
For gumlie dubs of your ain delvin !
Ye sons of Heresy and Error,

Ye'll some day squeel in quakin terror !
When Vengeance draws th' sword in wrath,
And in the fire throws the sheath;
When Ruin, with his sweeping besom,
Just frets till Heav'n commission gies him:
While o'er the Harp pale Mis'ry moans,
And strikes the ever-deep'ning tones,
Still louder shrieks, and heavier groans !

Your pardon, Sir, for this digression,
I maist forgat my Dedication;
But when Divinity comes across me,
My readers still are sure to loose me.

}

A DEDICATION TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ.

So, Sir, you see 'twas nae daft vapour,
But I maturely thought it proper,

When a' my works I did review,
To dedicate them, Sir, to You:
Because (ye need na tak it ill)

I thought them something like yoursel.

Then patronize them wi' your favour,
And your petitioner shall ever▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
I had amaist said, ever pray,
But that's a word I need na say:
For prayin I hae little skill o't;

I'm baith dead-sweer, an' wretched ill o't;
But I'se repeat each poor man's pray'r,
That kens or hears about you, Sir-

May ne'er Misfortune's growling bark, 'Howl thro' the dwelling o' the Clerk ! 'May ne'er his gen'rous, honest heart, For that same gen'rous spirit smart! 'May K******* 's, far honored name Lang beet his hymeneal flame, ‹ Till H********s, at least a dizen, Are frae their nuptial labours risen a

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