VII.

To catch dame Fortune's golden smilə
Assiduous wait upon her;

And gather gear by ev'ry wile
That's justified by honor -
Not for to hide it in a hedge,
Nor for a train-attendant,
But for the glorious privilege
Of being independent!

VIII.

The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip,
To haud the wretch in order,
But where ye feel your honor grip,
Let that a' be your border;
It's slightest touches, instant pause,
Debar a' side pretences;
And resolutely keep its laws,
Uncaring consequences.

IX.

The great Creator to revere,

Must sure become the creature; But still the preaching cant forbear, And ev'n the rigid feature;

Yet ne'er with wits profane to range,
Be complaisance extended;

An atheist's laugh's a poor exchange
For Deity offended!

X.

When ranting round in pleasure's ring,

Religion may be blinded;

Or, if she gie a random sing,

It may be little minded;

But when on life we're tempest driv'a,

A conscience but a canker
A correspondence fix'd wi' Heav'n

Is sure a nobler anchor!

XI.

Adieu, dear, amiable youth!

Your heart can ne'er be wanting;
May prudence, fortitude, and truth,
Erect vour brow undaunting!

In plougnman phrase, "Gad send you speed,"
Still daily to grow wiser;

And may you better reck the rede

Than ever did th' adviser :

May, 1786.

BOOK II.

PATHETIC, ELEGIAC, AND DESCRIPTIVE.

MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN.

A DIRGE.

I.

WHEN chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
One ev❜ning, as I wander'd forth
Along the banks of Ayr,

I spy'd a man, whose aged step
Seem'd weary, worn with care;
His face was furrow'd o'er with years,
And hoary was his hair.

II.

Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou?

(Began the rev'rend sage ;)

Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain,
Or youthful pleasure's rage?

Or haply, prest with cares and woes,
Too soon thou hast began

To wander forth, with me, to mourn
The miseries of man!

III.

The sun that overhangs yon moors,
Out-spreading far and wide,
Where hundreds labor to support
A haughty lordling's pride;
I've seen yon weary winter sun
Twice forty times return;

And ev'ry time has added proofs,
That man was made to mourn.

IV.

O man! while in thy early years,
How prodigal of time!
Misspending all thy precious hours,
Thy glorious youthful prime!
Alternate follies take the sway;

Licentious passions burn;

Which tenfold force gives Nature's law, That man was made to mourn.

V.

Look not alone on youthful prime,
Or manhood's active might;
Man then is useful to his kind,
Supported in his right;

But see him on the edge of life,
With cares and sorrows worn,

Then age and want, oh! ill-match'd pair
Show man was made to mourn.

VI.

A few seem favorites of Fate,

In Pleasure's lap carest;

Yet, think not all the rich and great
Are likewise truly blest.

But oh! what crowds, in ev'ry land,
Are wretched and forlorn;

Thro' weary life this lesson learn,
That man was made to mourn.

VII.

Many and sharp the num'rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!

More pointed still we make ourselves
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav'n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn,

Man's inhumanity to man

Makes countless thousands mourn,

VIII.

See yonder poor, o'erlabor'd wight
So abject, mean, and vile,
Who begs a brother of the earth
To give him leave to toll!
And see his lordly fellow-worm
The poor petition spurn,
Unmindful, tho' a weeping wife
And helpless offspring mourn

If I'm design'd yon lordling's slave,
By Nature's law design'd;

Why was an independent wish
E'er planted in my mind?

If not, why am I subject to

His cruelty, or scorn?

Or why has man the will and pow'r To make his fellow mourn?