Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers wear,
An' stain them wi' the saut, saut tear;
"Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,
In flinders flee:

He was her Laureat mony a year,

That's owre the sea!

He saw Misfortune's cauld nor-west
Lang mustering up a bitter blast;

A jillet brak his heart at last,

Ill may she be !

So, took a berth afore the mast,

An' owre the sea.

To tremble under Fortune's cummock,
On scarce a bellyfu' o' drummock,
Wi' his proud, independent stomach,
Could ill agree;

So, row't his hurdies in a hammock,
An' owre the sea.

He ne'er was gien to great misguidin,
Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in ;
Wi' him it ne'er was under hidin;

He dealt it free:

The Muse was a' that he took pride in,

That's owre the sea.

Jamaica bodies, use him weel,
An' hap him in a cozie biel:

Ye'll find him aye a dainty chiel,

An' fou o' glee :

He wad na wrang'd the vera deil,

That's owre the sea.

A lost laureate

An appeal to kindred natures

Fareweel, my rhyme-composing billie!
Your native soil was right ill-willie ;
But
flourish like a lily,

may ye

Now bonilie!

I'll toast you in my hindmost gillie,
Tho' owre the sea!

A BARD'S EPITAPH

Is there a whim-inspired fool,

Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,
Let him draw near;

And owre this grassy heap sing dool,
And drap a tear.

Is there a bard of rustic song,

Who, noteless, steals the crowds among,
That weekly this area throng,

O, pass not by !

But, with a frater-feeling strong,

Here heave a sigh.

Is there a man, whose judgment clear
Can others teach the course to steer,
Yet runs, himself, life's mad career,
Wild as the wave,

Here pause-and, thro' the starting tear,
Survey this grave.

The poor inhabitant below

Was quick to learn and wise to know,
And keenly felt the friendly glow,

And softer flame;

But thoughtless follies laid him low,
And stain'd his name!

Reader, attend! whether thy soul
Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,
In low pursuit:

Know, prudent, cautious, self-control
Is wisdom's root.

ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID

OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS

My Son, these maxims make a rule,
An' lump them aye thegither;

The Rigid Righteous is a fool,
The Rigid Wise anither:

The cleanest corn that ere was dight
May hae some pyles o' caff in;
So ne'er a fellow creature slight

For random fits o' daffin.

SOLOMON.-Eccles. ch. vii, verse 16.

O YE wha are sae guid yoursel',

Sae pious and sae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell
Your neibours' fauts and folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supplied wi' store o' water;
The heaped happer's ebbing still,
An' still the clap plays clatter.

Hear me, ye venerable core,
As counsel for poor mortals
That frequent pass douce Wisdom's door
For glaikit Folly's portals:
I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences-

Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings and mischances.

Defence of the erring

Human

weakness

Ye see your state wi' theirs compared,
And shudder at the niffer;

But cast a moment's fair regard,
What maks the mighty differ?
Discount what scant occasion gave,
That purity ye pride in ;

And (what's aft mair than a' the lave)
Your better art o' hidin.

Think, when your castigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop,
What ragings must his veins convulse,
That still eternal gallop!

Wi' wind and tide fair i'

your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;
But in the teeth o' baith to sail,
It maks a unco lee-way.

See Social Life and Glee sit down,
All joyous and unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrified, they're grown
Debauchery and Drinking:

O would they stay to calculate
Th' eternal consequences;

Or

your more dreaded hell to state,
Damnation of expenses!

Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,
Tied up in godly laces,
Before ye gie poor Frailty names,
Suppose a change o' cases;
A dear-lov'd lad, convenience snug,
A treach'rous inclination-

But let me whisper i' your lug,

Ye're aiblins nae temptation.

Then gently scan your brother man,

Still gentler sister woman;
Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang,

To step aside is human;

One point must still be greatly dark,-
The moving Why they do it;
And just as lamely can ye mark,
How far perhaps they rue it.

Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;

He knows each chord, its various tone,
Each spring, its various bias:

Then at the balance let's be mute,
We never can adjust it;

What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's resisted.

NATURE'S LAW-A POEM

HUMBLY INSCRIBED TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ.
"Great Nature spoke: observant man obey'd."--POPE.
LET other heroes boast their scars,
The marks of sturt and strife:

And other poets sing of wars,
The plagues of human life;
Shame fa' the fun, wi' sword and gun
To slap mankind like lumber!
I sing his name, and nobler fame,
Wha multiplies our number.

Great Nature spoke, with air benign,
"Go on, ye human race;
This lower world I you resign;

Be fruitful and increase.

The only judge