'Yet, all beneath th' unrivall'd Rofe, The lowly Daify fweetly blows;

'Tho' large the foreft's Monarch throws

• Yet

His army fhade,

green the juicy Hawthorn grows,

• Adown the glade.

• Then never murmur nor repine; Strive in thy humble sphere to fhine; . And trust me, not Potofi's mine,

Nor Kings regard,

Can give a blifs o'ermatching thine,

A ruflic Bard.

To give my counfels all in one,
Thy tuneful flame ftill careful fan;

Preferve the dignity of Man,

• With Soul ere&t;

And truft the Univerfal Plan

Will all protect.

And wear thou this'- fhe folemn faid, And bound the Holly round my head: The polished leaves, and berries red,

Did ruftling play; And, like a paffing thought, fhe fled In light away.

My Son, thefe Maxims make a rule,

And lump them ay thegither:
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,

The Rigid Wife anither :
The cleaneft corn that e'er was dight
May hae fome pyles o' caff in;
So ne'er a fellow-creature flight
For random fits' daffin.

SOLOMON.Ecclef. ch. vii.

I.

OYE wha are fae guid yourfel

Sae pious and fae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell

Your Neebours' fauts and folly;
Whafe life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supply'd wi' ftore o' water,

The heapet happer's ebbing still,
And till the clap plays clatter.

That frequent pafs douce Wifdom's door
For glakit Folly's portals;

I, for their thoughtless, careless fakes,
Would here propone defences,

Their donfie tricks, their black mistakes,
Their failings and mifchances.

III.

Ye fee your state wi' their's compar❜d,

And shudder at the niffer,

But caft a moment's fair regard

What makes the mighty differ;

Discount what fcant occalion

That purity ye pride in,

gave,

And (what's aft mair than a' the leave)

Your better art o' hiding.

IV.

Think, when your caftigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop,

What ragings must his veins convulfe

That ftill eternal gallop:

Wi' wind and tide fair i'

your tail,

Right on ye fcud your fea-way; But, in the teeth o' baith to fail,

It makes an unco leeway.

V.

See, Social Life and Glee fit down
All joyous and unthinking,

Till, quite tranfmugrify'd, they're grown ·
Debauchery and drinking:

O would they stay to calculate

Th' eternal confequences;

Or your more dreaded h-ll to ftate,
Damnation of expences!

VI.

Ye high, exalted, virtuous Dames,"
Ty'd up in godly laces;

Before ye gie poor Frailty names,
Suppofe a change o' cafes;
A dear-lov'd lad, convenience fnug,
A treacherous inclination-

But let me whisper i' your lug,
Ye're ablins nae temptation."

VII.

scan

Then gently fean your brother Man,
Still gentler fifter Woman;

Tho' they may gang a-kennin wrang
To ftep afide is human :

One point muft ftill be greatly dark,
The moving Why they do it;

And just as lamely can ye mark,

How far perhaps they rue it.

VIII.

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 refifled.