71. Second Epistle to Davie

Related poetry:

1. 547. Verses to Collector Mitchell FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal, Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal; Alake, alake, the meikle deil Wi’ a’ his witches Are at it skelpin jig and reel, In my poor pouches? I modestly fu’ fain wad hint it, That One-pound-one, I sairly want it; If wi’ the hizzie down ye sent it, […]...
2. 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 […]...
3. 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 […]...
4. Renunciation It’s a jade branch on the floor, broken in two, love, Or a stain raised on the lapped grains of a suede glove. It’s the lace, blown by a strong breeze, of an old gown With the cranes crying at night, lost in their long sound. It’s a vase made from the noon light in […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. 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 […]...
7. 295. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock ELLISLAND, 21st Oct., 1789.WOW, but your letter made me vauntie! And are ye hale, and weel and cantie? I ken’d it still, your wee bit jauntie Wad bring ye to: Lord send you aye as weel’s I want ye! And then ye’ll do. The ill-thief blaw the Heron south! And never drink be near his […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. 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, […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. Auld Lang Syne Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp, And surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak a […]...
12. 238. Song-Auld Lang Syne SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne! Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp! And surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak […]...
13. 544. SongвЂ"Crowdie ever mair O THAT I had ne’er been married, I wad never had nae care, Now I’ve gotten wife an’ weans, An’ they cry “Crowdie” evermair. Chorus. —Ance crowdie, twice crowdie, Three times crowdie in a day Gin ye crowdie ony mair, Ye’ll crowdie a’ my meal away. Waefu’ Want and Hunger fley me, Glowrin’ by the […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. 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, […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. 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; […]...
19. 114. Versified Note to Dr. Mackenzie, Mauchline FRIDAY first’s the day appointed By the Right Worshipful anointed, To hold our grand procession; To get a blad o’ Johnie’s morals, And taste a swatch o’ Manson’s barrels I’ the way of our profession. The Master and the Brotherhood Would a’ be glad to see you; For me I would be mair than proud […]...
20. 219. Song-To Daunton Me THE BLUDE-RED rose at Yule may blaw, The simmer lilies bloom in snaw, The frost may freeze the deepest sea; But an auld man shall never daunton me. Refrain.-To daunton me, to daunton me, And auld man shall never daunton me. To daunton me, and me sae young, Wi’ his fause heart and flatt’ring tongue, […]...
21. 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) […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. 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 […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. 433. Song-Down the Burn, Davie love AS down the burn they took their way, And thro’ the flowery dale; His cheek to hers he aft did lay, And love was aye the tale: With “Mary, when shall we return, Sic pleasure to renew?” Quoth Mary-“Love, I like the burn, And aye shall follow you.”...
26. 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 […]...
27. 325. Song-What can a Young Lassie do wi' an Auld Man? WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, What can a young lassie do wi’ an auld man? Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie To sell her puir Jenny for siller an’ lan’. Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie To sell her puir Jenny for siller an’ […]...
28. 63. One Night as I did Wander ONE night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon an auld tree root; Auld Ayr ran by before me, And bicker’d to the seas; A cushat crooded o’er me, That echoed through the braes...
29. Caboose Thoughts IT’S going to come out all right—do you know? The sun, the birds, the grass—they know. They get along—and we’ll get along. Some days will be rainy and you will sit waiting And the letter you wait for won’t come, And I will sit watching the sky tear off gray and gray And the letter […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. 542. Song-Fragment-the Wren's Nest THE ROBIN to the Wren’s nest Cam keekin’ in, cam keekin’ in; O weel’s me on your auld pow, Wad ye be in, wad ye be in? Thou’s ne’er get leave to lie without, And I within, and I within, Sae lang’s I hae an auld clout To rowe ye in, to rowe ye in....
33. 368. Song-Scroggam, my dearie THERE was a wife wonn’d in Cockpen, Scroggam; She brew’d gude ale for gentlemen; Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me, Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum. The gudewife’s dochter fell in a fever, Scroggam; The priest o’ the parish he fell in anither; Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me, Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum. […]...
34. 493. Song-Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair CONTENTED wi’ little, and cantie wi’ mair, Whene’er I forgather wi’ Sorrow and Care, I gie them a skelp as they’re creeping alang, Wi’ a cog o’ gude swats and an auld Scottish sang. Chorus.-Contented wi’ little, &c. I whiles claw the elbow o’ troublesome thought; But Man is a soger, and Life is a […]...
35. 385. Song-Auld Rob Morris THERE’S Auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, He’s the King o’ gude fellows, and wale o’ auld men; He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine, And ae bonie lass, his dautie and mine. She’s fresh as the morning, the fairest in May; She’s sweet as the ev’ning amang the […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. 131. Song-Willie Chalmers WI’ braw new branks in mickle pride, And eke a braw new brechan, My Pegasus I’m got astride, And up Parnassus pechin; Whiles owre a bush wi’ donwward crush, The doited beastie stammers; Then up he gets, and off he sets, For sake o’ Willie Chalmers. I doubt na, lass, that weel ken’d name May […]...
39. Imitations of Horace: The First Epistle of the Second Book Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere (Horace, Epistles II. i.267) While you, great patron of mankind, sustain The balanc’d world, and open all the main; Your country, chief, in arms abroad defend, At home, with morals, arts, and laws amend; How shall the Muse, from such a monarch steal An hour, and not defraud the public […]...
40. 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, […]...