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TAM SAMSON's*

ELE G Y.

An honeft man's the nobleft work of God→

HAS

AS auld K********* feen the Deil?
Or great M*******+ thrawn his heel?
Or R******* † again grown weel,

To preach an' read?

Na' waur than a'!' cries ilka chiel,

Tam Samfon's dead!"

K********* lang may grunt an' grain,
An' figh, an fab, an' greet her lane,
An' cleed her bairns, man, wife, an' wean,
In mourning weed;

To Death fhe's dearly pay'd the kane,

Tam Samfon's dead!'

POPE

*When this worthy old Sportsman went out last muir-fow! * feafon, he fuppofed it was to be, in Offian's phrafe, the last of his fields; and expreffed an ardent with to die and be buburied in the inuirs. On this hint the author composed his Elegy and Epitaph.

A certain Preacher, a great favourite with the Million. Vide the ORDINATION, P. 54.

Another Preacher, an equal favourite with the Few, who was at that time ailing. For him fee alfo the ORDINA TION, ftanza IX.

• Some roufe the Patriot

up to bare

Corruption's heart :

• Some teach the Bard, a darling care,

The tuneful art.

'Mong fwelling floods of reeking gore, They ardent, kindling fpirits pour;

Or mid the venal Senate's roar,

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And when the Bard, or hoary Sage,

• Charm or instruct the future age, They bind the wild Poetic rage

In energy,

Or point the inconclufive page

Full on the eye.

Hence, Fullarton, the brave and young,
Hence, Dempfler's zeal-infpired tongue;
Hence, fweet harmonious Beattie fung

His Minarel lays;"

Or tore, with noble ardour stung,

The Scepetic's bays.

To lower orders are affign'd

The humble ranks of Human kind,

. The ruftic Bard, the lab'ring Hind,

The Artifan;

All chufe, as various they're inclin'd,

The various man.

When yellow waves the heavy grain, The threat'ning ftorm, fome ftrongly, rein; . Some teach to meliorate the plain

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With tillage-fkill;

And fome inftruct the Shepherd-train,

Blythe o'er the hill.

Some hint the Lover's harmless wile; Some grace the maiden's artless smile; • Some foothe the Lab'rer's weary toil,

*

For humble gains,

And make his cottage-fcenes beguile

• His cares and pains.

Some, bounded to a district space, Explore at large Man's infant race, To mark the embryotic trace

Of ruftic Bard;

And careful note each op'ning grace,

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A guide and guard.

Of thefe am I-Coila my name;

< And this diftri&t as mine I claim,

'Where once the Campbells chiefs of fame,

Held ruling pow'r :

I mark'd thy embryo-tuneful flame,

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The Brethren o' the myftic level May hang their head in wofu' bevel, While by their nose the tears will revel

Like ony bead;

Death's gien the Lodge an unco devel,

Tam Samfon's dead!.

When winter muffles up his cloak, And binds the mire like a rock; When to the loughs the Curlers flock,

Wi' gleefame spied,

Wha will they fation at the cock,

Tam Samfon's dead!

He was the king of a' the Core, To guard, or draw, or wick a bore, Or up the rink like Jebu roar,

In time o' need;

But now he lags on Death's bog fcore,

Tam Samfon's dead!

Now fafe the stately Sawmont fail, And Trouts bedropp'd wi' crimson hail,

And Eels weel kend for fouple tail,

And Cods for greed,

Since dark in Death's fifb-creel we wail

Tam Samfon's dead!

Rejoice, ye birring Patricks a’;

Ye cootie Moorcocks, croufely craw ;.

Ye Maukins, cock your fud fu' braw,

Withouten dread;

Your mortal Fae is now awa',

Tam Samfon's dead!

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That woefu' morn be ever mourn'd Saw him in shootin graith adorn'd, While pointers round impatient burn'd,

Frae couples freed;

But Och! he gaed and ne'er return'd!

Tam Samfon's dead!

In vain Auld-age his body batters; In vain the gout his ancles fetters!

In vain the burns came down like waters,

An acre-braid!

Now ev'ry auld wife, greetin clatters,

Tam Sampfon's dead!

Owre mony a weary hag he limpit,
An' ay the tither fhot he thumpit,
Till coward Death behint him jumpit,

Wi' deadly feide;

Now he proclaims wi' tout o' Trumpet,

Tam Samfon's dead!

When at his heart he felt the dagger, He reel'd his wonted bottle-fwagger, But yet he drew the mortal trigger,

Wi' weel-aim'd heed;

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