'stir. The lads an' lasses, blythely bent On this ane's dress, an' that ane's leuk, While some are cozie i' the neuk 2, An' formin assignations To meet some day. But now the Lord's ain trumpet touts, An' echoes back return the shouts ; His piercing words, like Highlan swords, His talk o' Hell, whare devils dwell, Wi' fright that day. A vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit, The half asleep start up wi' fear, 'Twad be owre lang a tale, to tell An' how they crowded to the yill', When they were a' dismist : How drink gaed round, in cogs an' caups, An' cheese an' bread frae women's laps, nook. Was dealt about in lunches 5 flaming. 8 An' dawds that day. 3 Minister of Kilmarnock. Shakspeare's Hamlet.--R. B 7 ale. 8 lumps. 6 whinstone. In comes a gaucie' gash Guidwife, Syne draws her kebbuck an' her knife, The auld guidmen, about the grace, Frae side to side they bother, Till some ane by his bonnet lays, Waesucks! for him that gets nae lass, Sma' need has he to say a grace, 6 Begins to jow an' croon; Some swagger hame, the best they dow", 8 At slaps the billies halt a blink, Till lasses strip their shoon : Wi' faith an' hope, an' love an' drink, They're a' in famous tune For crack that day. EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND. I lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend, Than just a kind memento; Jolly. • cheese 8 waes me! to peal or roar. 7 they can. 8 gaps 4 soil. 5 the bell-ringer. in fences. Andrew Aiken But how the subject-theme may gang, Let time and chance determine; And muckle they may grieve ye: I'll no say, men are villains a'; But, och mankind are unco weak, If self the wavering balance shake, Yet they wha fa" in fortune's strife, Yet hae nae cash to spare him. Conceal yoursel as weel's ye can Frae critical dissection; VOL. III. The sacred lowe' o' weel-placed love, But never tempt th' illicit rove, Tho' naething should divulge it; To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, And gather gear by ev'ry wile The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip, The great Creator to revere, Must sure become the creature ; Yet ne'er with wits profane to range, An atheist-laugh's a poor exchange When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded; Or, if she gie a random sting, It may be little minded; 1 flame. Nn Adieu, dear amiable Youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting ! In ploughman phrase, 'God send you speed,' And may you better reck the rede3, Than ever did th' Adviser! A BARD'S EPITAPH. Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, And owre this grassy heap sing dool, Is there a bard of rustic song, Who, noteless, steals the crowds among, O, pass not by ! But, with a frater-feeling strong, Here, heave a sigh. Is there a man whose judgment clear, Wild as the wave; Here pause—and, thro' the starting tear, Survey this grave. without. 2 heed the counsel. 3 bashful. submit tamely. |