CONTENTS. CHIEFLY SCOTTISH. WRITTEN IN FRIARS-CARSE HERMITAGE, ON NITH-SIDE. THOU HOU whom chance may hither lead Be thou clad in ruffet weed, Be thou deckt in filken ftole, Grave these counfels on thy foul. Life is but a day at most, Sprung from night, in darkness loft; As Youth and Love with fprightly dance, Feneath thy morning ftar advance, Pleasure with her firen air May delude the thoughtless pair; As thy day grows warm and high, Evils lurk in felon wait: Dangers, eagle-pinioned, bold, While cheatful peace, with linnet fong, As thy fhades of evening clofe, Peck'ning thee to long repofe; As life itself becomes difeafe, Seek the chimney-nook of ease. There ruminate with fober thought; On all thou'st feen, and heard, and wrought; |