ON SEEING MISS FONTENELLE. IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER. SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, Then indeed thou'd'st act a part. THE LEAGUE AND COVENANT. THE Solemn League and Covenant Cost Scotland blood-cost Scotland tears: But it seal'd Freedom's sacred cause-If thou'rt a slave, indulge thy sneers. ON MISS JESSY LEWARS. TALK not to me of savages But Jessy's lovely hand in mine, Not ev'n to view the Heavenly choir, EPITAPH ON MISS JESSY LEWARS. SAY, Sages, what's the charm on earth Can turn Death's dart aside? It is not purity and worth, Else Jessy had not died. THE RECOVERY OF JESSY LEWARS. BUT rarely seen since Nature's birth, The natives of the sky, Yet still one Seraph's left on earth, THE TOAST. FILL me with the rosy wine, THE KIRK OF LAMINGTON. As cauld a wind as ever blew, WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF ONE OF MISS HANNAH MORE'S WORKS, THOU flattering mark of friendship kind, 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. INSCRIPTION ON A GOBLET. THERE'S death in the cup-sae beware! Nay, more-there is danger in touching; But wha can avoid the fell snare? The man and his wine's sae bewitching! THE BOOK-WORMS. THROUGH and through the inspired leaves, ON ROBERT RIDDEL. To Riddel, much-lamented man, Reader, dost value matchless worth? WILLIE CHALMERS. WI' braw new branks in mickle pride, My Pegasus I'm got astride, And up Parnassus pechin; Whiles owre a bush wi' downward crush, I doubt na, lass, that weel kenn'd name May cost a pair o' blushes; I am nae stranger to your fame Nor his warm urged wishes. His honest heart enamours, And faith ye'll no be lost a whit, Tho' waired on Willie Chalmers. Auld Truth hersel' might swear ye're fair, And sic twa love-inspiring e'en Might fire even holy Palmers ; Nae wonder then they've fatal been To honest Willie Chalmers. I doubt na fortune may you shore Some mim-mou'd pouther'd priestie, Fu' lifted up wi' Hebrew lore, And band upon his breastie : But Oh! what signifies to you, His lexicons and grammars ; The feeling heart's the royal blue, And that's wi' Willie Chalmers. Some gapin' glowrin' countra laird, May claw his lug, and straik his beard, And host up some palaver. My bonie maid, before ye wed Sic clumsy-witted hammers, Seek Heaven for help, and barefit skelp Awa' wi' Willie Chalmers. Forgive the Bard! my fond regard To you and Willie Chalmers. |