Because thy joy in both would be To share them with a friend. But golden sands did never grace Then take what gold could never buy— PROLOGUE, SPOKEN AT THE THEATRE, DUMFRIES, 1 JAN. 1790. [This prologue was written in December, 1789, for Mr. Sutherland, who recited it with applause in the little theatre of Dumfries, on new-year's night. Sir Harris Nicolas, however, has given to Ellisland the benefit of a theatre! and to Burns the whole barony of Dalswinton for a farm!] No song nor dance I bring from yon great city That queens it o'er our taste-the more's the pity: Tho', by-the-by, abroad why will you roam? I come to wish you all a good new year! Old Father Time deputes me here before ye, Ye sprightly youths, quite flush'd with hope and spirit, Το the dotard has a deal to say, you In his sly, dry, sententious, proverb way; He bids you mind, amid your thoughtless rattle, That the first blow is ever half the battle: That tho' some by the skirt may try to snatch him, That, whether doing, suffering, or forbearing, Last, tho' not least in love, ye youthful fair, For our sincere, tho' haply weak endeavours, SCOTS PROLOGUE, FOR MR. SUTHERLAND'S BENEFIT NIGHT, DUMFRIES. [Burns did not shine in prologues: he produced some vigorous lines, but they did not come in harmony from his tongue, like the songs in which he recorded the loveliness of the dames of Caledonia. Sutherland was manager of the theatre, and a writer of rhymes.-Burns said his players were a very decent set: he had seen them an evening or two.] WHAT needs this din about the town o' Lon'on, For comedy abroad he need nae toil, Is there no daring bard will rise, and tell How here, even here, he first unsheath'd the sword, One Douglas lives in Home's immortal page, As ye hae generous done, if a' the land Would take the muses' servants by the hand; Not only hear, but patronize, befriend them, And where ye justly can commend, commend them; And aiblins when they winna stand the test,. Wink hard, and say the folks hae done their best! Would a' the land do this, then I'll be caution Ye'll soon hae poets o' the Scottish nation, Will gar fame blaw until her trumpet crack, And warsle time, an' lay him on his back! For us and for our stage should ony spier, We're your ain bairns, e'en guide us as ye like, SKETCH. NEW YEAR'S DAY. TO MRS. DUNLOP. [This is a picture of the Dunlop family: it was printed from a hasty sketch, which the poet called extempore. The major whom it mentions, was General Andrew Dunlop, who died in 1804: Rachel Dunlop was afterwards married to Robert Glasgow, Esq. Another of the Dunlops served with distinction in India, where he rose to the rank of General They were a gallaut race, and all distinguished.] THIS day, Time winds th' exhausted chain, To run the twelvemonth's length again: With ardent eyes, complexion sallow, The absent lover, minor heir, In vain assail him with their prayer; And blooming Keith's engaged with Gray) This day's propitious to be wise in. First, what did yesternight deliver? Or why regard the passing year? Then is it wise to damp our bliss? Since then, my honour'd, first of friends, And live as those who never die. Tho' you, with days and honours crown'd, (A sight, life's sorrows to repulse, Yourself, you wait your bright reward. TO A GENTLEMAN WHO HAD SENT HIM A NEWSPAPER, AND OFFERED TO CONTINUE IT FREE OF EXPENSE. [These sarcastic lines contain a too true picture of the times in which they were written. Though great changes have taken place in court and camp, yet Austria, Russia, and Prussia keep the tack of Poland: nobody says a word of Denmark: emasculated Italy is still singing; opera girls are still dancing; but Chatham Will, glaikit Charlie, Daddie Burke, Royal George, and Geordie Wales, have all passed to their account.] KIND Sir, I've read your paper through, |