Ye wad do weel to feed your flocks,
And read your buiks mair tenty,
Then ye wad better raise your stocks,
And fill your ha's wi' plenty.
Morality and common sense,

And reason ye should doat on,
For then ye're sure of recompense
Frae ladies and your patron
On sic a day.

Ye think to get your wages up
For sic a lang oration,

But aiblins ye may get the slip

Ye've cankered half the nation.
Though Ps be a funny soul,
And fu' o' craft and learning,

He'll hardly get a siller bowl
Worth forty guineas sterling,
For thanks yon day.

Sic things are but ill taen thir days,
When Liberty's sae raging,
And in her leel and noble cause

Ten thousands are engaging.

The kirk should a' your time mortgage,
For weel she pays the cost;
And royalty and patronage
Eternally's your toast

Baith night and day.

O Patronage, ye cunning baud,
Ye should be sairly thumpit,
Deil blaw ye south, ye cruel jade,
Ye ne'er-do-weel like strumpet.
For under your infamous wing,

The clergy sits sae paughty,
And slyly hums the foolish k— g,
Wi' cracks that are fell daughty,
For clink this day.

The Rights of Man is now weel kenned,
And read by mony a hunder,

For Tammy Paine the buik has penned,
And lent the courts a lounder.

It's like a keeking-glass to see

The craft of kirk and statesmen;
And wi' a bauld and easy glee,
Guid faith the birky beats them
Aff hand this day.

Though G- -dy be deluded now,
And kens na what's a-doing,
Yet aiblins he may find it true
There is a blast a-brewing.
For British boys are in a fiz,

Their heads like bees are humming,
And for their rights and liberties

They're mad upon reforming

The court this day.

But gin the proclamation should

Be put in execution,

Then brethren ye may chew your cud,

And fear a revolution.

For fegs ye've led the kirk a dance,
Her tail is now in danger,

For of the liberties in France
Nae Scotsman is a stranger
At hame this day.

But deil may care for a' your thanks,
And prayers that did confirm it;

Like Lewis in his royal branks,

The k-g and you may girn yet.
There's a mony a chiel of noble stuff,
"Tween Johnny Groats and Dover,
That starkly may gie him a cuff,

And send him to H

-r

Wi' speed some day.

Ye think yoursels sae safe and snug,
That ne'er a ane dare strike ye,
But for your thanks, I'll lay my lug,
Few patriots will like ye:

The kirk is now on her last legs,
And to the pot she's tumbling;
And troth my lads ye're aff your eggs,
For a' your gratefu' mumbling
On sic a day.

It's true indeed she's lang stood out
Against dissenting nostrums,
Although she's gotten many a clout
Frae their despised rostrums.
The state has long kept at her side,
And firmly did support her,

But Liberty wi' furious tide,

Is like to come athwart her

Pell mell this day.

The power of clergy, wylie tykes,

Is unco fast declining;

And courtiers' craft, like snaw aff dykes,

Melts when the sun is shining.

Auld Monarchy, wi' cruel paw,
Her dying pains is gnawing,
While Democracy, trig and braw,
Is through a' Europe crawing
Fu' crouse
this day.

But lest the Muse exaggerate,
Come, here's for a conclusion,
On every true blue Democrate
I ken ye'll pray confusion.

But frae your dark and deep designs
Fair Liberty will hide us;

Frae G

w and frae A-r divines

We pray good Lord to guide us

On ilka day.

O

O

The Foresters.

DESCRIPTIVE OF A PEDESTRIAN JOURNEY TO THE FALLS OF

NIAGARA.

ARGUMENT.

Exordium-American scenery seldom the theme of poetry-the season-the Foresters, Duncan, Leech, and the author-Germantown-Springhouse tavern-its guests, &c.-Bucks, a Dutch settlement-employment of Hans and his frau-Easton-Blue Mountains a school-the teacher-the dignity, utility, and miseries of the profession-prayer in behalf of teachers.-Effects of a tornado-Shades of Death-woodman's hut-Address to the Susquehanna-Benevolent landlord-Duncan in loveHospitality apostrophized-a rattlesnake-Keeler's Ferrymoney the greatest curiosity in the township-Pat Dougherty's hotel- Wyalusing-French royalists in exile-Breakneck— Spanish Hill-Apostrophe to Industry-Chemung-Eulogium on Sullivan and others-Newtown-Catharine's SwampsExiled Indian's Lament-Fowling - howling of wolves-a panther seen the forest on fire-appearance of the woodman -his hut-parting of friends-a nocturnal voyage-Address to Columbia-Trapper's hut-an Indian hunter-Fort OswegoLake Ontario-embarkation-Sickness-landing at Queenstown-First view of the falls of Niagara-Description of the various falls-Address to the God of Nature-the Foresters set out on their return-lodge near the Falls-dream of the scenery-awake in horror of perishing in the rapids, and are again rocked to rest by the tumult of the waters.

SONS of the city! ye whom crowds and noise
Bereave of peace and Nature's rural joys,
And ye who love through woods and wilds to range,
Who see new charms in each successive change;
Come roam with me Columbia's forests through,
Where scenes sublime shall meet your wondering view
Deep shades magnificent, immensely spread;
Lakes, sky-encircled, vast as ocean's bed;

Lone hermit streams that wind thro' savage woods;
Enormous cataracts swoln with thundering floods;
The settler's farm with blazing fires o'erspread;
The hunter's cabin and the Indian's shed;
The log-built hamlet, deep in wilds embraced;
The awful silence of the unpeopled waste:
These are the scenes the Muse shall now explore,
Scenes new to song, and paths untrod before.

To Europe's shores renowned in deathless song,
Must all the honours of the bard belong?
And rural Poetry's enchanting strain
Be only heard beyond the Atlantic main?
What though profuse in many a patriot's praise,
We boast a Barlow's soul-exalting lays;

An Humphreys, blessed with Homer's nervous glow;
And freedom's friend and champion in Freneau ;
Yet Nature's charms that bloom so lovely here,
Unhailed arrive, unheeded disappear;

While bare bleak heaths, and brooks of half a mile
Can rouse the thousand bards of Britain's isle.
There scarce a stream creeps down its narrow bed,
There scarce a hillock lifts its little head,
Or humble hamlet peeps their glades among
But lives and murmurs in immortal song;
Our western world, with all its matchless floods,
Our vast transparent lakes and boundless woods,
Stamped with the traits of majesty sublime,
Unhonoured weep the silent lapse of time,
Spread their wild grandeur to the unconscious sky,
In sweetest seasons pass unheeded by;
While scarce one Muse returns the songs they gave,
Or seeks to snatch their glories from the grave.

a A term usually applied in America to those persons who first commence the operations of agriculture in a new country, by cutting, clearing, and actual settlement. The varied appearance of the woods when these are rapidly going on, forms a busy, novel, and interesting picture.