Our sex with guile and faithless love But may, dear maid, each lover prove An Edwin still to you! EPIST LE I LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend, A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae other end Than just a kind memento; But how the subject-theme may gang, Let time and chance determine; Perhaps it may turn out a sang, Perhaps turn out a sermon. II. Ye'll try the world soon, my lad, And muckle they may grieve ye: III. I'll no say, men are villains a' ; But och, mankind are unco weak, An' little to be trusted; If self the wavering balance shake, IV. Yet they wha fa' in fortune's strife, VOL. III. P A man A man may hae an honest heart, V. Ay free, aff han' your story tell, But keek thro' ev'ry other man, VI. The sacred lowe o' weel-plac'd love, But never tempt th' illicit rove, And petrifies the feeling! VII. To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, VIII. The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip Let that Its slightest touches, instant pause— And resolutely keep its laws, Uncaring consequences. IX. The great Creator to revere, Must sure become the creature; But still the preaching cant forbear And ev'n the rigid feature: |