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[In these lines he bade farewell to this sordid dame, who lived, it is said, in Netherplace, near Mauchline.] ONE Queen Artemisia, as old stories tell, When depriv'd of her husband she loved so well, In respect for the love and affection he'd show'd her,

She reduc'd him to dust and she drank up the powder.

But Queen Netherplace, of a diff'rent complexion,

When call'd on to order the fun'ral direction, Would have eat her dear lord, on a slender pretence,

Not to show her respect, but to save the expense.

XVI. VERSES

WRITTEN ON A WINDOW OF THE INN AT CARRON.

[These lines were written on receiving what the poet considered an uncivil refusal to look at the works of the celebrated Carron foundry.]

WE came na here to view your warks
In hopes to be mair wise,

But only, lest we gang to hell,
It may be nae surprise :

For whan we tirl'd at your door,

Your porter dought na hear us; Sae may, shou'd we to hell's yetts come Your billy Satan sair us!

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XVIII.

LINES ON STIRLING.

[On visiting Stirling, Burns was stung at beholding nothing but desolation in the palaces of our princes and our halls of legislation, and vented his indignation in these unloyal lines: some one has said that they were written by his companion, Nicol, but this wants confirmation.]

HERE Stuarts once in glory reign'd,
And laws for Scotland's weal ordain'd;
But now unroof'd their palace stands,
Their sceptre's sway'd by other hands;
The injured Stuart line is gone,

A race outlandish fills their throne;
An idiot race, to honour lost;

Who know them best despise them most.

XIX.

THE REPROOF.

[The imprudence of making the lines written at Stirling public was hinted to Burns by a friend; he said, "Oh, but I mean to reprove myself for it," which he did in these words.]

RASH mortal, and slanderous Poet, thy name Shall no longer appear in the records of fame; Dost not know that old Mansfield, who writes like the Bible,

Says the more 'tis a truth, Sir, the more 'tis a libel?

trates of Edinburgh a liberal interpretation of the laws of social morality, in behalf of his fair namesake.]

CEASE, ye prudes, your envious railings,
Lovely Burns has charms-confess :

True it is, she had one failing-
Had a woman ever less?

XXII.

EXTEMPORE IN THE COURT OF SESSION.

[These portraits are strongly coloured with the partialities of the poet: Dundas had offended his pride, Erskine had pleased his vanity; and as he felt he spoke.]

LORD ADVOCATE.

He clench'd his pamphlets in his fist,

He quoted and he hinted, 'Till in a declamation-mist

His argument he tint it:
He gaped for't, he grap'd for't,
He fand it was awa, man;

But what his common sense came short
He eked out wi' law, man.

MR. ERSKINE.

Collected Harry stood awee,

Then open'd out his arm, man: His lordship sat wi' rueful e'e,

And ey'd the gathering storm, man; Like wind-driv'n hail it did assail,

Or torrents owre a linn, man; The Bench sae wise lift up their eyes, Half-wauken'd wi' the din, man.

XX.

THE REPLY.

[The minister of Gladsmuir wrote a censure on the Stirling lines, intimating, as a priest, that Burns's race was nigh run, and as a prophet, that oblivion awaited his muse. The poet replied to the expostulation.] LIKE Esop's lion, Burns says, sore I feel All others' scorn-but damn that ass's heel.

XXI. LINES

WRITTEN UNDER THE PICTURE OF THE CELEBRATED

MISS BURNS.

[The Miss Burns of these lines was well known in those days to the bucks of the Scottish metropolis: there is still a letter by the poet, claiming from the magis

XXIII.

THE ENPECKED HUSBAND. [A lady who expressed herself with incivility about her husband's potations with Burns, was rewarded by these sharp lines.]

CURS'D be the man, the poorest wretch in life,
The crouching vassal to the tyrant wife!
Who has no will but by her high permission;
Who has not sixpence but in her possession;
Who must to her his dear friend's secret tell;
Who dreads a curtain lecture worse than hell!
Were such the wife had fallen to my part,
I'd break her spirit, or I'd break her heart;
I'd charm her with the magic of a switch,
I'd kiss her maids, and kick the perverse b-h

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[This was a festive sally: it is said that Grose, who was very fat, though he joined in the laugh, did not relish it.]

THE devil got notice that Grose was a-dying, So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying;

XXXV.

WRITTEN ON A PANE OF GLASS,

IN THE INN AT MOFFAT.

[A friend asked the poet why God made Miss Davies so little, and a lady who was with her, so large: before the ladies, who had just passed the window, were out

But when he approach'd where poor Francis lay of sight, the following answer was recorded on a pane

moaning,

And saw each bed-post with its burden a-groan

ing,

Astonish'd! confounded! cry'd Satan, "By

I'll want him, ere I take such a damnable load!”

of glass.]

ASK why God made the gem so small,

And why so huge the granite? Because God meant mankind should set The higher value on it.

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