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LINES,

ADDRESSED TO

MR JOHN RANKEN,

The person to whom kis Poem on shooting the Partridge is

addressed, while he occupied the Farm of Adamhill in Ayrshire.

AE day, as Death, that grusome carl,
Was driving to the tither warl',
A mixie-maxie motely squad,
And mony a guilt-bespotted lad;
Black
gowns

of each denomination,
And thieves of every rank and station,
From him that wears the star and garter
To him that wintles in a halter :
Asham'd himself to see the wretches,
He mutters, glowʼring at the bitches,

By G-d I'll not be seen behint them, “ Nor 'mang the sp’ritual core present them, Without, at least ae honest man, “ To grace this damn'd infernal clan.” By Adamhill a glance he threw, “—d, G-d!” quoth he, “ I have it now, “ There's just the man I want, in faith," And quickly stoppit Ranken's breath.

EPITAPH

ON A COUNTRY LAIRD, NOT QUITE SO WISÉ AS SOLOMOX.

BLESS Jesus Christ, O C********

With grateful lifted eyes,
Who said that not the soul alone,

But body too must rise.
For had he said, 6 the soul alone

« From death I will deliver,” Alas, alas! O C********

Then thou hadst slept for ever!

PROLOGUE,

SPOKEN BY

MR WOODS, ON HIS BENEFIT NIGHT,

MONDAY, 16th APRIL, 1787.

When by a generous public's kind acclaim,
That dearest meed is granted—honest fame;
When here your favour is the actor's lot,
Nor even the man in private life forgot;
What breast so dead to heav'nly Virtue's glow,
But heaves impassioned with the grateful throe.

Poor is the task to please a barb'rous throng, It needs no Siddons' powers in Southern's song; But here an ancient nation fam'd afar, For genius, learning high, as great in warHail, CALEDONIA, name for ever dear ! Before whose sons I'm honoured to appear !

Where every science-every nobler art-
That can inform the mind, or mend the heart,
Is known; as grateful nations oft have found
Far as the rude barbarian marks the bound.
Philosophy, no idle pedant dream,
Here holds her search by heaven-taught Reason's

beam;
Here History paints, with elegance and force,
Tlie tide of Empire's fluctuating course;
Here Douglas forms wild Shakespeare into plan,
And Harley * rouses all the god in man.

. When well-form'd taste, and sparkling wit unite, With manly lore, or female beauty bright, (Beauty, where faultless symmetry and grace, Can only charm us in the second place,) Witness my heart, how oft with panting fear, As on this night, I've met these judges here ! But still the hope Experience taught to live, Equal to judge—you ’re candid to forgive. No hundred-headed Riot here we meet, With decency and law beneath his feet; Nor Insolence assumes fair Freedom's name; Like CALEDONIANS, you applaud or blame.

* The Man of Feeling, written by Mr M‘Kenzie,

O Thou! dread Power ! whose empire-giving

hand Has oft been stretch'd to shield the honour'd land! Strong may she glow with all her ancient fire ; May every son be worthy of his sire; Firm may she rise with

she rise with generous disdain At Tyranny's, or direr Pleasure's chain ; Still self-dependent in her native shore, Bold may she brave grim Danger's loudest roar, Till Fate the curtain drop on worlds to be no

more.

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