Poor devil! see him owre his trash, Thro' bloody flood or field to dash, But mark the rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, He'll mak it whissle; An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned,' Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care, But, if ye wish her gratefu' pray'r, Gie her a Haggis! ADDRESS TO THE TOOTH-ACHE. My curse upon thy venom'd stang, And thro' my lugs gies monie a twang, Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang, When fevers burn, or ague freezes, But thee-thou hell o' a' diseases, Ay mocks our groan! i Nut g Puny, weak. h The fist. • A jerk of waters, or a thin potion that will jerk or quash ke water. pA small wooden dish with a handle. g Ears. Adown my beard the slavers trickle! While, raving mad, I wish a heckle O' a' the num'rous human dools,y The tricks o' knaves, or fashd o' fools, Where'er that place be priests ca' hell, Thou, Tooth-ache, surely bear'st the bell O thou grim, mischief-making chiel', In gore a shoe-thick, Gie a' the faes o' Scotland's weal A towmond's Tooth-ache! TO A POSTHUMOUS CHILD, BORN IN PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCES OF DISTRESS. SWEET flow'ret, pledge o' meiklek love, The greater. & Fools. t Laugh. " Leap, jump. 10 A board in which are driven a number of sharp iron pins, used for dressing hemp, flax, &c. z Bad harvests. b Stool of repentance. y Sorrows. d Trouble. h Makes. Backside. a Foolish bargains. c Laid in the grave. e The victory. f Row. g Above. i A twelvemonth. k Much. November hirples' o'er the lea, May He, the friend of woe and want, But late she flourish'd, rooted fast, Blest be thy bloom, thou lovely gem, And from thee many a parent stem TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, To spare thee now is past my pow'r, Alas! it's not thy neebor sweet! When upward-springing, blythe, to greet Creeps, or limps. • Small. m Acute pains. n Unhurt. 9 Not. r Wet, wetness, Cauld blew the bitter-biting North Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield, High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield; But thou, beneath the random bield O' clod or stane, Adorns the histie" stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, But now the share up-tears thy bed, Such is the fate of artless Maid, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid Such is the fate of simple Bard, Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, Such fate to suffering worth is giv'n, " Dry, chapt, barren. Till wrench'd of ev'ry stay but Heav'n, Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, TO A MOUSE, On turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, WEE, sleekit," cow'rin',w tim'rous beastie, 1 wad be laithy to rin an' chase thee, I'm truly sorry man's dominion An' justifies that ill opinion Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve: 'S a sma' request: t When Burns first arrived in Edinburgh, the Lounger,' a weekly paper, edited by Henry Mackenzie, Esq. author of the Man of Feeling,' was in course of publication. In that periodical a whole number (the Lounger for Saturday, December 9, 1786,') was devoted to An account of Robert Burns, the Ayr shire ploughman,' in which were given the address To a Montain Daisy,' and an extract from the Vision,' as specimens of his poetry. u Sleek, w Cowering. z Plough-staff. A short race. y Loth. |