I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences,

Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings and mischances.

Ye see your state wi' theirs compar'd,
And shudder at the niffer,2

But cast a moment's fair regard,
What maks the mighty differ?
Discount what scant occasion gave
That purity ye pride in,

And (what's aft mair than a' the lave)
Your better art o' hidin'.

Think, when your castigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop,
What raging must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallɔp:

Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way:
But in the teeth o' baith to sail,
It maks an unco leeway.

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,
Damnation of expenses!

Ye high, exalted, virtuous Dames,
Ty'd up in godly laces,

Before ye gie poor Frailty names,
Suppose a change o' cases;
A dear lov'd lad, convenience snug,
A treacherous inclination-
But, let me whisper i' your lug,
Ye're aiblins nae temptation.

Then gently scan your brother Man,
Still gentler sister Woman;
Tho' they may gang a kennie" wrang,
To step aside is human :

One point must still be greatly dark,
The moving Why they do it;
And just as lamely can ye mark,

How far perhaps they rue it.

1 Unlucky. 2 Exchange. 3 Transformed. May be. 5 Small matter.

Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
Decidedly can try us,

He knows each chord-its various tone,
Each spring-its various bias :
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.

TAM SAMSON'S ELEGY.'

An honest man's the noblest work of God.-Pope.
HAS auld Kilmarnock seen the Deil?
Or great M'Kinlay thrawn his heel?
Or Robinson again grown weel,

To preach an' read ?
"Na, waur than a'!" cries ilka chiel,

"Tam Samson's dead!"

Kilmarnock lang may grunt an' grane,
An' sigh, an' sab, an' greet her lane,*
An' cleed her bairns, man, wife, an' wean,
In mourning weed;

To Death she's dearly paid the kane,"
Tam Samson's dead!

The Brethren o' the mystic level

May hing their head in woefu' bevel,

While by their nose the tears will revel,
Like ony bead;

Death's gien the Lodge an unco devel,

Tam Samson's dead!

When Winter muffles up his cloak,

And binds the mire like a rock;

When to the loughs the Curlers flock

Wi' gleesome speed,

Wha will they station at the cock?

Tam Samson's dead?

1 When this worthy old sportsman went out last muir-fowl season, he supposed it was to be, in Ossian's phrase, "the last of his fields;" and expressed an ardent wish to die and be buried in the muirs. On this hint the author composed his Elegy and Epitaph.-R. B.

2 A certain preacher, a great favourite with the million.-Vide The Ordina tion, stanza ii.-R. B.

Another preacher, an equal favourite with the few, who was at that time ailing. For him, see also The Ordination, stanza ix.-R. B. 6 Rent.

* Herself alone.

5 Clothe

He was the king o' a' the Core,
To guard, or draw, or wick a bore,
Or up the rink like Jehu roar

In time o' need;

But now he lags on Death's hog-score,1
Tam Samson's dead!

Now safe the stately Sawmont2 sail,
And Trouts bedropp'd wi' crimson hail,
And Eels weel ken'd for souple tail,

And Geds for greed,

Since dark in Death's fish-creel we wail
Tam Samson dead!

Rejoice, ye birring Paitricks3 a';

Ye cootie Moorcocks, crousely craw ;*
Ye Maukins, cock your fud fu' braw,
Withouten dread;

Your mortal Fae is now awa',

Tam Samson's dead!

That woefu' morn be ever mourn'd
Saw him in shootin graith? adorn'd,
While pointers round impatient burn'd,
Frae couples freed;

But, Och! he gaed and ne'er return'd!
Tam Samson's dead!

In vain auld age his body batters;
In vain the gout his ancles fetters;
In vain the burns cam' down like waters,
An acre braid!

Now ev'ry auld wife, greetin, clatters,
Tam Samson's dead!"

66

Owre mony a weary hag he limpit,
An' aye the tither shot he thumpit,
Till coward Death behind him jumpit
Wi' deadly feide;8

Now he proclaims, wi' tout o' trumpet,
Tam Samson's dead!

When at his heart he felt the dagger,
He reel'd his wonted bottle-swagger,
But yet he drew the mortal trigger

Wi' weel-aim'd heed;

"Lord, five!" he cry'd, an' owre did stagger; Tam Samson's dead!

1 A distance line in curling, drawn across the rink.

2 Salmon.

3 Partridges. 4 Cheerfully crow. 5 Hares. 6 Tail. 7 Dress. Feud.

Ilk hoary hunter mourn'd a brither;
Ilk sportsman youth bemoan'd a father;
Yon auld gray stane, amang the heather,
Marks out his head,

Whare Burns has wrote, in rhyming blether,
Tam Samson's dead!

There, low he lies, in lasting rest;
Perhaps upon his mould'ring breast
Some spitefu' muirfowl bigs her nest,

To hatch and breed;

Alas! nae mair he'll them molest!

Tam Samson's dead!

When August winds the heather wave,
And sportsmen wander by yon grave,
Three volleys let his mem'ry crave

O' pouther an' lead,

Till Echo answer frae her cave,

Tam Samson's dead!

Heav'n rest his saul, whare'er he be !
Is th' wish o' mony mae than me:
He had twa faults, or maybe three,

Yet what remead ?

Ae social, honest man want we:

Tam Samson's dead!

THE EPITAPH.

TAM SAMSON'S weel-worn clay here lies,
Ye canting zealots, spare him!
If honest worth in heaven rise,
Ye'll mend or ye win near him.

PER CONTRA.1

Go, Fame, an' canter like a filly
Thro' a' the streets an' neuks o' Killie,

Tell ev'ry social, honest billie

To cease his grievin,

For yet, unskaith'd by Death's gleg gullie,3

Tam Samson's livin!

The "Per Contra" was a peace-offering to the old sportsman, angry at his poetical dissolution. Burns retired to the window in Tam's apartment for a few minutes, and returned with this stanza on his lips.

2 Killie is a phrase the country-folks sometimes use for the name of a certain town in the west [Kilmarnock].-R. B.

3 Sharp knife.