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Yet ne'er with Wits prophane to ragen,

Be complaisance extended;
An Atheist laugh's a poor exchange
For Deity offended?

X.
When ranting round in Pleasures ringx:

Religion may be blinded;
Or if she gie a random flings-
It
may

be litile minded ;
But when on life.we're tempeft-driv'ng,

A conscience but a canker-
A correspondence fix'd wi' Heav'ng'
Is sure a noble, anchor!

XI.
Adieu, dear, amiable Youth!"

Your heart can ne'er be wanting! May Prudence, Fortitude, and Truth,

Ereet your brow undaunting!
In Ploughman's phrase, God fend you speed, 'I

Still daily to grow wiser ;
And may ye better reck the rede,

Than e'er did th' Adviser!

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ON A

SCOTCH BARD

GONE TO THE WEST INDIES.,

A’YE

YE wha live by fowpso' drink,,
A' ye w ha live by crambo-clink,
A’ye wha live and never think,

Comė, mourn wi'me!! Our Billie's gien us a'a jink,

An' owre the Sea!.

Lament him a'

ye
rartin

core, Wha dearly like a random splore ; Nae mair he'll join the merry roar,

In focial key; For now he's ta'en another shore,

An owre the Sea!

The bonie laffes weel may wiss him,.. And in their dear petitions place him : The widows, wives, an'a' may bless him

Wi' tearfu' e'e ; For weell I wat they'll fairly miss him

That's owre the Sea!

O Fortune, they hae room to grumble ! Hadft thou taen aff fome drowsy bummle, Wha can do nought but fyke an' fumble,

'Twad been nae. plea ;But he was gleg as cnie wumble,

That's owre the. Sea..

Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers wear, An' stain them wi' the saut, faut tear :: 'Twill make her poor, auld heart, I fear,

In flinders fee. He was her Laureat monie a year,

That's owre the Seas'.

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He saw Misfortune's cauld Nor-welt.
Lang muftering up a bitter blast ;,
A Jillet brak his heart at last,

Ill may she be!
So, took a birth afore the maft,

An'owre the Sea.

'To tremble under fortunes cummock, On scarce a bellyfu' o' drummock, Wi' his proud, independent ftomach,

Could ill agree ;

So, row't his hurdies in a hammock,

An'owre the Sea.

He ne'er was gien to great misguiding; Yet coin his pouches wad na-bide in ;

Wi' him it ne'er was under hiding ;

He dealt it free: The mufe 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 ay a dainty chiel,

An' fou o'glee: He wad na wrang'd the vera Deil,

That's owre the Sea..

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

Now bonilie:
I'll toast

ye
in
my
hindmost gillie,

Tho'owre the Sea!

TO A

H A G G I S.

Fair fa' your honest, fonfie face

,

Great Chieftan o' the Puddin race !
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm : Weel are you wordy o' a grace

As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there you fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill

In time o' need,
While shro' your pores the dews distill

Like amber bead,

His knife.fee Rustic-labour dight, An' cut you up wi' ready Night, Trenching your gushing entrails bright

Like onie ditch: And then, what a glorious fight,

Warm-reekin, rich !

Then, horn for horn they stretch and Atrive, Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,

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