He glows with all the spirit of the Bard-
Fame, honest fame, his great, his dear reward!
Still, if some patron's generous care he trace,
Skill'd, in the secret, to bestow with grace;
When Ballantyne1 befriends his humble name,
And hands the rustic stranger up to fame,
With heart-felt throes his grateful bosom swells,
The god-like bliss, to give, alone excels.

'Twas when the stacks get on their winter-hap,'
And thack and rape secure the toil-won crap;
Potatoe-bings are snugged up frae skaith*
Of coming Winter's biting, frosty breath;
The bees, rejoicing o'er their summer toils,
Unnumber'd buds, an' flowers' delicious spoils,
Seal'd up with frugal care in massive waxen piles,
Are doom'd by man, that tyrant o'er the weak,
The death o' devils-smoor'd' wi' brimstone reck;"
The thundering guns are heard on ev'ry side,
The wounded coveys, reeling, scatter wide;
The feather'd field-mates, bound by Nature's tie,
Sires, mothers, children, in one carnage lie:
(What warm poetic heart, but inly bleeds,
And execrates man's savage, ruthless deeds!)
Nae mair the flower in field or meadow springs;
Nae mair the grove with airy concert rings,
Except perhaps the robin's whistling glee,
Proud of the height o' some bit half-lang tree:
The hoary morns precede the sunny days,

Mild, calm, serene, wide spreads the noon-tide blaze,
While thick the gossamer waves wanton in the rays.
'Twas in that season, when a simple Bard,
Unknown and poor, simplicity's reward;
Ae night within the ancient burgh of Ayr,
By whim inspired, or haply press'd wi' care;
He left his bed, and took his wayward rout,
And down by Simpson's' wheel'd the left about:
(Whether impell'd by all-directing Fate,

To witness what I after shall narrate;

-

▲ John Ballantyne, Esq., Banker, Ayr, one of our poet's earliest patrons.2 Covering. — 3 Thatch secured with ropes of straw, &c.—4 Darnage.-Smothered.- Smoke.-7 A noted tavern at the Auld Brig end.

1

Or whether, rapt in meditation high,

He wander'd out, he knew not where nor why :)
The drowsy Dungeon-clock had numbered two,
And Wallace Tower' had sworn the fact was true;
The tide-swoln Firth, with sullen-sounding roar,
Through the still night dash'd hoarse along the
shore;

All else was hush'd as Nature's closed e'e;
The silent moon shone high o'er tower and tree:
The chilly frost, beneath the silver beam,
Crept, gently-crusting, o'er the glittering stream.
When, lo! on either hand the list'ning Bard,
The clanging sugh' of whistling wings he heard;
Two dusky forms dart thro' the midnight air,
Swift as the Gos3 drives on the wheeling hare;
Ane on th' Auld Brig his hairy shape uprears,
The ither flutters o'er the rising piers;
Our warlock' Rhymer instantly descried
The Spirits that owre the Brigs of Ayr preside.
(That bards are second-sighted is nae joke,
And ken the lingo o' the sp'ritual folk;

Fays, spunkies, kelpies, a', they can explain them,
And even the vera deils they brawly ken them.)
Auld Brig appear'd of ancient Pictish race,
The vera wrinkles Gothic in his face:
He seem'd as he wi' Time had warstled' lang,
Yet teughly doure," he bade' an unco bang.
New Brig was buskit in a braw new coat,
That he, at Lon'on, frae ane Adams, got;
In 's hand five taper staves as smooth's a bead,
Wi' virls and whirlygigums" at the head.
The Goth was stalking round with anxious search
Spying the time-worn flaws in every arch;
It chanced his new-come neebor took his e'e,
And e'en a vex'd and angry heart had he!
Wi' thieveless1 sneer to see his modish mien,
He, down the water, gies him this guid-e'en :"

1 Dungeon-clock and Wallace Tower, the two steeples.-2 The continued rushing noise of wind.-3 The gos-hawk, or falcon.-4 Wizard.-5 Wrestled. - Toughly durable.-7 Did bide, sustain, or endure.-8 Sustained the repeated shocks of the floods and currents.- Dressed.-10 A ring which sur rounds a column, &c.-11 Useless ornaments.-12 Cold, dry-spoken of a per son's demeanor.-13 Salutation, or good evening.

AULD BRIG.

I doubt na', frien', ye'll think ye're nae sheep-
shank,'

Ance ye were streekit o'er frae bank to bank!
But gin ye be a brig as auld as me,

Tho' faith that day, I doubt, ye 'll never see;
There 'll be, if that date come, I'll wad a bodle,'
Some fewer whigmeleeries' in your noddle.

NEW BRIG.

Auld Vandal, ye but show your little mense,"
Just much about it wi' your scanty sense;
Will your poor, narrow foot-path of a street,
Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet;
Your ruin'd, formless bulk o' stane an' lime,
Compare wi' bonnie brigs o' modern time?

There's men o' taste would take the Duckat stream,"
Tho' they should cast the very sark' and swim,
Ere they would grate their feelings wi' the view
Of sic an ugly Gothic hulk as you.

AULD BRIG.

Conceited gowk! puff'd up wi' windy pride!
This monie a year I've stood the flood an' tide;
And tho' wi' crazy eild' I'm sair forfairn,10
I'll be a brig when ye 're a shapeless cairn;"
As yet ye little ken about the matter,
But twa-three winters will inform ye better.
When heavy, dark, continued, a'-day rains,
Wi' deepening deluges o'erflow the plains;
When from the hills where springs the brawling
Coil,

Or stately Lugar's mossy fountains boil,

Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course,
Or haunted Garpal" draws his feeble source,

No mean personage.-2 Stretched. Bet a bodle; i. e. a small coin.― ♦ Whims, fancies.-5 Good-breeding.- A noted ford just above Auld Brig. -Shirt-8 Cuckoo; applied as a term of contempt.- Old age.-10 Worn out.-11 A loose heap of stones.

12 The banks of Garpal Water is one of the few places in the west of Scotland, where those fancy-scaring beings, known by the name of Ghaists, still continue pertinaciously to inhabit.

3

Aroused by blustering winds an' spotting thowes,'
In monie a torrent down his snaw-broo rowes;2
While crashing ice, borne on the roaring speat,
Sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate;
And from Glenbuck, down to the Ratton-key,"
Auld Ayr is just one lengthen'd, tumbling sea;
Then down ye 'll hurl-deil nor ye never rise;
And dash the gumlie jaups up to the pouring skies:
A lesson sadly teaching, to your cost,

That architecture's noble art is lost.

NEW BRIG.

Fine architecture! trowth, I needs must say 't o't,
The L-d be thankit that we've tint the gate' o 't!
Gaunt, ghastly, ghaist-alluring edifices,

Hanging with threatening jut, like precipices;
O'er-arching, mouldy, gloom-inspiring coves,
Supporting roofs fantastic, stony groves;
Windows and doors in nameless sculpture drest,
With order, symmetry, or taste unblest;
Forms like some bedlam statuary's dream,
The crazed creations of misguided whim;
Forms might be worshipp'd on the bended knee,
And still the second dread command be free,
Their likeness is not found on earth, in air, or sea.
Mansions that would disgrace the building taste
Of any mason, reptile, bird, or beast;

Fit only for a doiteds monkish race,

Or frosty maids, forsworn the dear embrace;
Or cuifs' of latter times, wha held the notion
That sullen gloom was sterling true devotion;
Fancies that our guid Burgh" denies protection,
And soon may they expire, unbless'd with resurrection

AULD BRIG.

O ye, my dear-remember'd ancient yealings,"
Were ye but here to share my wounded feelings!
Ye worthy Proveses, an' monie a Bailie,

Wha in the paths of righteousness did toil ay;

1 Thaws.-2 Snow-water rolls.-3 A sweeping torrent after a thaw.-4 The Bource of the river Ayr.-5 A small landing-place above the large quay.• The muddy jerks of agitated water.-7 Lost the way of it.-8 Stupefied.Blockheads.-10 Borough.-11 Coevals.

Ye dainty Deacons, and ye douce1 Conveeners,
To whom our moderns are but causey-cleaners;
Ye godly Councils wha hae bless'd this town,
Ye godly Brethren of the sacred gown,

Wha meekly gae your hurdies' to the smiters;
And (what would now be strange) ye godly Writers:
A' ye douce folk I've borne aboon the broo,
Were ye but here, what would you say or do?
How would your spirits groan in deep vexation,
To see such melancholy alteration;

And, agonizing, curse the time and place,
When ye begat the base, degenerate race?
Nae langer reverend men, their country's glory,
In plain braid Scots hold forth a plain braid story!
Nae langer thrifty citizens an' douce,*

Meet owre a pint, or in the council-house;
But staumrel, corky-headed, graceless gentry,
The herryment and ruin of the country;

Men, three-parts made by tailors and by barbers,
Wha waste your weel-hain'd gear" on d-d new brigs
and harbors!

NEW BRIG.

Now haud you there! for faith ye 've said enough,
And muckle mair than ye can make to through.10
As for your priesthood, I shall say but little,
Corbies and clergy are a shot right kittle:12
But under favor o' your langer beard,
Abuse o' magistrates might weel be spared:
To liken them to your auld-warld squad,
I must needs say comparisons are odd.
In Ayr, wag-wits nae mair can hae's a handle
To mouth a "citizen," a term o' scandal;
Nae mair the council waddles down the street,

In all the pomp of ignorant conceit;

Men wha grew wise priggin' owre hops an' raisins,
Or gather'd liberal views in bonds and seisins.

If haply Knowledge, on a random tramp,

Had shor'd them with a glimmer of his lamp,

1 Wise.-2 The loins.-3 Broad.-4 Wise, prudent.-5 Half-witted.- Plunderers.-7 Well-saved money.-8 Hold.-9 Much.-10 Make out, or prove.1 A species of crows.-12 Ticklish, difficult to come at.-13 To have.14 Cheapening.-15 Offered.