295. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock

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1. 350. Epistle to John Maxwell, Esq., of Terraughty HEALTH to the Maxwell’s veteran Chief! Health, aye unsour’d by care or grief: Inspir’d, I turn’d Fate’s sibyl leaf, This natal morn, I see thy life is stuff o’ prief, Scarce quite half-worn. This day thou metes threescore eleven, And I can tell that bounteous Heaven (The second-sight, ye ken, is given To ilka Poet) […]...
2. 518. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election-No. 1 WHOM will you send to London town, To Parliament and a’ that? Or wha in a’ the country round The best deserves to fa’ that? For a’ that, and a’ that, Thro’ Galloway and a’ that, Where is the Laird or belted Knight The best deserves to fa’ that? Wha sees Kerroughtree’s open yett, (And […]...
3. 56. Epistle to Davie, A Brother Poet WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, An’ bar the doors wi’ driving snaw, An’ hing us owre the ingle, I set me down to pass the time, An’ spin a verse or twa o’ rhyme, In hamely, westlin jingle. While frosty winds blaw in the drift, Ben to the chimla lug, I grudge a wee […]...
4. 11. Song-Here's to thy health, my bonie lass HERE’S to thy health, my bonie lass, Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee; I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door, To tell thee that I lo’e thee. O dinna think, my pretty pink, But I can live without thee: I vow and swear I dinna care, How lang ye look about ye. Thou’rt aye […]...
5. 61. Second Epistle to J. Lapraik WHILE new-ca’d kye rowte at the stake An’ pownies reek in pleugh or braik, This hour on e’enin’s edge I take, To own I’m debtor To honest-hearted, auld Lapraik, For his kind letter. Forjesket sair, with weary legs, Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs, Or dealing thro’ amang the naigs Their ten-hours’ bite, My awkart […]...
6. 351. Second Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry LATE crippl’d of an arm, and now a leg, About to beg a pass for leave to beg; Dull, listless, teas’d, dejected, and deprest (Nature is adverse to a cripple’s rest); Will generous Graham list to his Poet’s wail? (It soothes poor Misery, hearkening to her tale) And hear him curse the light he first […]...
7. 110. Epistle to a Young Friend May-, 1786.I LANG hae thought, my youthfu’ friend, A something to have sent you, Tho’ it should serve nae ither 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. Ye’ll try the world soon, my […]...
8. An EPISTLE From A Gentleman To Madam Deshouliers URANIA, whom the Town admires, Whose Wit and Beauty share our Praise; This fair URANIA who inspires A thousand Joys a thousand ways, She, who cou’d with a Glance convey Favours, that had my Hopes outdone, Has lent me Money on that Day, Which our Acquaintance first begun. Nor with the Happiness I taste, Let […]...
9. 142. Epistle to Major Logan HAIL, thairm-inspirin’, rattlin’ Willie! Tho’ fortune’s road be rough an’ hilly To every fiddling, rhyming billie, We never heed, But take it like the unback’d filly, Proud o’ her speed. When, idly goavin’, whiles we saunter, Yirr! fancy barks, awa we canter, Up hill, down brae, till some mischanter, Some black bog-hole, Arrests us; then […]...
10. 71. Second Epistle to Davie AULD NEIBOUR, I’m three times doubly o’er your debtor, For your auld-farrant, frien’ly letter; Tho’ I maun say’t I doubt ye flatter, Ye speak sae fair; For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter Some less maun sair. Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle, Lang may your elbuck jink diddle, To cheer you thro’ the […]...
11. 60. Epistle on J. Lapraik WHILE briers an’ woodbines budding green, An’ paitricks scraichin loud at e’en, An’ morning poussie whiddin seen, Inspire my muse, This freedom, in an unknown frien’, I pray excuse. On Fasten-e’en we had a rockin, To ca’ the crack and weave our stockin; And there was muckle fun and jokin, Ye need na doubt; At […]...
12. 224. Epistle to Hugh Parker IN this strange land, this uncouth clime, A land unknown to prose or rhyme; Where words ne’er cross’t the Muse’s heckles, Nor limpit in poetic shackles: A land that Prose did never view it, Except when drunk he stacher’t thro’ it; Here, ambush’d by the chimla cheek, Hid in an atmosphere of reek, I hear […]...
13. Epistle to Mrs. Tyler It ever was allow’d, dear Madam, Ev’n from the days of father Adam, Of all perfection flesh is heir to, Fair patience is the gentlest virtue; This is a truth our grandames teach, Our poets sing, and parsons preach; Yet after all, dear Moll, the fact is We seldom put it into practice; I’ll warrant […]...
14. 155. Epistle to Mrs. Scott of Wauchope House GUDEWIFE, I MIND it weel in early date, When I was bardless, young, and blate, An’ first could thresh the barn, Or haud a yokin’ at the pleugh; An, tho’ forfoughten sair eneugh, Yet unco proud to learn: When first amang the yellow corn A man I reckon’d was, An’ wi’ the lave ilk merry […]...
15. 41. Epistle to John Rankine O ROUGH, rude, ready-witted Rankine, The wale o’ cocks for fun an’ drinkin! There’s mony godly folks are thinkin, Your dreams and tricks Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin Straught to auld Nick’s. Ye hae saw mony cracks an’ cants, And in your wicked, drucken rants, Ye mak a devil o’ the saunts, An’ fill them […]...
16. 454. Epistle from Esopus to Maria FROM those drear solitudes and frowsy cells, Where Infamy with sad Repentance dwells; Where turnkeys make the jealous portal fast, And deal from iron hands the spare repast; Where truant ‘prentices, yet young in sin, Blush at the curious stranger peeping in; Where strumpets, relics of the drunken roar, Resolve to drink, nay, half, to […]...
17. 231. Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry WHEN Nature her great master-piece design’d, And fram’d her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all the mazy plan, She form’d of various parts the various Man. Then first she calls the useful many forth; Plain plodding Industry, and sober Worth: Thence peasants, farmers, native sons of earth, And merchandise’ whole […]...
18. 258. Epistle to James Tennant of Glenconner AULD comrade dear, and brither sinner, How’s a’ the folk about Glenconner? How do you this blae eastlin wind, That’s like to blaw a body blind? For me, my faculties are frozen, My dearest member nearly dozen’d. I’ve sent you here, by Johnie Simson, Twa sage philosophers to glimpse on; Smith, wi’ his sympathetic feeling, […]...
19. 70. Epistle to the Rev. John M'Math WHILE at the stook the shearers cow’r To shun the bitter blaudin’ show’r, Or in gulravage rinnin scowr To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme. My musie, tir’d wi’ mony a sonnet On gown, an’ ban’, an’ douse black bonnet, Is grown right eerie now she’s done it, Lest […]...
20. 90. Epistle to James Smith DEAR SMITH, the slee’st, pawkie thief, That e’er attempted stealth or rief! Ye surely hae some warlock-brief Owre human hearts; For ne’er a bosom yet was prief Against your arts. For me, I swear by sun an’ moon, An’ ev’ry star that blinks aboon, Ye’ve cost me twenty pair o’ shoon, Just gaun to see […]...
21. 549. Epistle to Colonel de Peyster MY honor’d Colonel, deep I feel Your interest in the Poet’s weal; Ah! now sma’ heart hae I to speel The steep Parnassus, Surrounded thus by bolus pill, And potion glasses. O what a canty world were it, Would pain and care and sickness spare it; And Fortune favour worth and merit As they deserve; […]...
22. 69. Third Epistle to J. Lapraik GUID speed and furder to you, Johnie, Guid health, hale han’s, an’ weather bonie; Now, when ye’re nickin down fu’ cannie The staff o’ bread, May ye ne’er want a stoup o’ bran’y To clear your head. May Boreas never thresh your rigs, Nor kick your rickles aff their legs, Sendin the stuff o’er muirs […]...
23. The Comet at Valbury or Yell'ham I It bends far over Yell’ham Plain, And we, from Yell’ham Height, Stand and regard its fiery train, So soon to swim from sight. II It will return long years hence, when As now its strange swift shine Will fall on Yell’ham; but not then On that sweet form of thine....
24. 67. Epistle to John Goldie, in Kilmarnock O GOWDIE, terror o’ the whigs, Dread o’ blackcoats and rev’rend wigs! Sour Bigotry, on her last legs, Girns an’ looks back, Wishing the ten Egyptian plagues May seize you quick. Poor gapin’, glowrin’ Superstition! Wae’s me, she’s in a sad condition: Fye: bring Black Jock, 1 her state physician, To see her water; Alas, […]...
25. 132. Reply to a Trimming Epistle, received from a Tailor WHAT ails ye now, ye lousie bitch To thresh my back at sic a pitch? Losh, man! hae mercy wi’ your natch, Your bodkin’s bauld; I didna suffer half sae much Frae Daddie Auld. What tho’ at times, when I grow crouse, I gie their wames a random pouse, Is that enough for you to […]...
26. Song (Go And Catch A Falling Star) Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the Devil’s foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy’s stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind. If thou be’st born to strange sights, Things […]...
27. 62. Epistle to William Simson I GAT your letter, winsome Willie; Wi’ gratefu’ heart I thank you brawlie; Tho’ I maun say’t, I wad be silly, And unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin billie Your flatterin strain. But I’se believe ye kindly meant it: I sud be laith to think ye hinted Ironic satire, sidelins sklented On my poor […]...
28. Epistle To Augusta My sister! my sweet sister! if a name Dearer and purer were, it should be thine; Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim No tears, but tenderness to answer mine: Go where I will, to me thou art the same – A loved regret which I would not resign. There yet are two things […]...
29. The Celebrated Woman – An Epistle By A Married Man Can I, my friend, with thee condole? Can I conceive the woes that try men, When late repentance racks the soul Ensnared into the toils of hymen? Can I take part in such distress? Poor martyr, most devoutly, “Yes!” Thou weep’st because thy spouse has flown To arms preferred before thine own; A faithless wife, […]...
30. Epistles to Several Persons: Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu’d, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I’m sick, I’m dead. The dog-star rages! nay ’tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out: Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land. What walls can guard me, […]...
31. An EPISTLE from Alexander to Hephaestion In His Sickness WITH such a Pulse, with such disorder’d Veins, Such lab’ring Breath, as thy Disease constrains; With failing Eyes, that scarce the Light endure, (So long unclos’d, they’ve watch’d thy doubtful Cure) To his Hephaestion Alexander writes, To soothe thy Days, and wing thy sleepless Nights, I send thee Love: Oh! that I could impart, As […]...
32. 436. Song-Deluded swain, the pleasure DELUDED swain, the pleasure The fickle Fair can give thee, Is but a fairy treasure, Thy hopes will soon deceive thee: The billows on the ocean, The breezes idly roaming, The cloud’s uncertain motion, They are but types of Woman. O art thou not asham’d To doat upon a feature? If Man thou wouldst be […]...
33. Idea LIII: To the River Ancor Clear Ancor, on whose silver-sanded shore My soul-shrin’d saint, my fair Idea lies, O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adore Thy crystal stream, refined by her eyes, Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the spring Gently distills his nectar-dropping showers, Where nightingales in Arden sit and sing Amongst the dainty dew-impearled flowers; Say thus, fair brook, […]...
34. An Epistle Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Kar Karshish, the picker-up of learning’s crumbs, The not-incurious in God’s handiwork (This man’s-flesh he hath admirably made, Blown like a bubble, kneaded like a paste, To coop up and keep down on earth a space That puff of vapour from his mouth, man’s soul) To Abib, all-sagacious in our art, Breeder in me of what […]...
35. Sonnet LIII: Clear Anker Another to the River Anker Clear Anker, on whose silver-sanded shore My soul-shrin’d saint, my fair Idea, lies, O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adore The crystal stream refined by her eyes, Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the Spring Gently distils his nectar-dropping showers, Where nightingales in Arden sit and sing Among the dainty dew-impearled […]...
36. EPISTLE II: TO A LADY (Of the Characters of Women) NOTHING so true as what you once let fall, “Most Women have no Characters at all.” Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear, And best distinguish’d by black, brown, or fair. How many pictures of one Nymph we view, All how unlike each other, all how true! Arcadia’s Countess, here, in ermin’d pride, Is, […]...
37. THE PARCAE; OR, THREE DAINTY DESTINIES:THE ARMILET Three lovely sisters working were, As they were closely set, Of soft and dainty maiden-hair, A curious Armilet. I, smiling, ask’d them what they did, Fair Destinies all three? Who told me they had drawn a thread Of life, and ’twas for me. They shew’d me then how fine ’twas spun And I replied thereto; […]...
38. 24. Song-No Churchman am I NO churchman am I for to rail and to write, No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight, No sly man of business contriving a snare, For a big-belly’d bottle’s the whole of my care. The peer I don’t envy, I give him his bow; I scorn not the peasant, though ever so low; […]...
39. 430. Song-Dainty Davie NOW rosy May comes in wi’ flowers, To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers; And now comes in the happy hours, To wander wi’ my Davie. Chorus.-Meet me on the warlock knowe, Dainty Davie, Dainty Davie; There I’ll spend the day wi’ you, My ain dear Dainty Davie. The crystal waters round us fa’, The merry […]...
40. Epistle To My Brother George Full many a dreary hour have I past, My brain bewildered, and my mind o’ercast With heaviness; in seasons when I’ve thought No spherey strains by me could e’er be caught From the blue dome, though I to dimness gaze On the far depth where sheeted lightning plays; Or, on the wavy grass outstretched supinely, […]...