Addenda.

ODE ON THE DEPARTED REGENCY BILL

(MARCH, 1789).

DAUGHTER of chaos' doting years,
Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fears,
Whether thy airy insubstantial shade
(The rites of sepulture now duly paid)
Spread abroad its hideous form

On the roaring civil storm,
Deafening din and warring rage
Factions wild with factions wage;
Or underground
Deep-sunk profound

Among the demons of the earth,
With groans that make

The mountains shake,

Thou mourn thy ill-starr'd blighted birth;
Or in the uncreated void

Where seeds of future being fight,
With lessened step thou wander wide

To greet thy mother, Ancient Night,
And, as each jarring monster-mass is past,
Fond recollect what once thou wast:
In manner due, beneath this sacred oak,
Hear, spirit, hear! thy presence I invoke !
By a Monarch's heaven-struck fate,
By a disunited State,

By a generous Prince's wrongs,
By a Senate's strife of tongues,
By a Premier's sullen pride,
Louring on the changing tide ;
By dread Thurlow's powers to awe-
Rhetoric, blasphemy and law;
By the turbulent ocean-
A Nation's commotion,
By the harlot-caresses
Of borough addresses,
By days few and evil,
(Thy portion, poor devil!)
By Power, Wealth and Show,
(The gods by men adored,)
By nameless Poverty,

(Their hell abhorred,)

By all they hope, by all they fear,
Hear! and appear!

Stare not on me, thou ghastly Power!
Nor grim with chained defiance lour;

No Babel-structure would I build

Where, order exiled from his native sway, Confusion may the Regent-sceptre wield, While all would rule and none obey:

Go, to the world of Man relate
The story of thy sad eventful fate;
And call presumptuous Hope to hear,
And bid him check his blind career;
And tell the sore-prest sons of Care,
Never, never to despair!

Paint Charles's speed on wings of fire,
The object of his fond desire,

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Beyond his boldest hopes, at hand:

Paint all the triumph of the Portland Band;
Hark how they lift the joy-elated voice!

And who are these that equally rejoice?

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Jews, Gentiles, what a motley crew!

The iron tears their flinty cheeks bedew ;

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A New Psalm for the Chapel of Kilmarnock.

See how unfurled the parchment ensigns fly,
And Principal and Interest all the cry!
But just as hopes to warm enjoyment rise,
Cry Convalescence! and the vision flies.

Then next pourtray a dark'ning twilight gloom,
Eclipsing sad a gay, rejoicing morn,
While proud Ambition to th' untimely tomb
By gnashing, grim, despairing fiends is borne:
Paint ruin, in the shape of high D(undas)

Gaping with giddy terror o'er the brow;

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In vain he struggles, the fates behind him press,
And clam'rous hell yawns for her prey below :
How fallen That, whose pride late scaled the skies!
And This, like Lucifer, no more to rise!

Again pronounce the powerful word;

See Day, triumphant from the night, restored.

Then know this truth, ye Sons of Men!
(Thus ends thy moral tale,)

Your darkest terrors may be vain,
Your brightest hopes may fail.

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A NEW PSALM FOR THE CHAPEL OF

KILMARNOCK.

(ON THE THANKSGIVING-DAY FOR HIS MAJESTY'S RECOVERY.)

O SING a new Song to the Lord;

Make, all and every one,

A joyful noise, even for the King
His restoration.

The sons of Belial in the land

Did set their heads together;

Come, let us sweep them off, said they,
Like an o'erflowing river.

They set their heads together, I say,
They set their heads together;
On right, on left, and every hand,
We saw none to deliver.

Thou madest strong two chosen ones,
To quell the wicked's pride:
That young man, great in Issachar,
The burden-bearing tribe;

And him, among the princes chief
In our Jerusalem,

The Judge that's mighty in thy law,

The man that fears thy name.

Yet they, even they, with all their strength
Began to faint and fail,

Even as two howling ravenous wolves

To dogs do turn their tail.

The ungodly o'er the just prevailed,
For so thou hadst appointed,

That thou might'st greater glory give
Unto thine own anointed.

And now thou hast restored our State,
Pity our Kirk also;

For she by tribulations

Is now brought very low.

Consume that high place Patronage

From off thy holy hill,

And in thy fury burn the book
Even of the man M'Gill.

Now hear our prayer, accept our song,
And fight thy chosen's battle:

We seek but little, Lord, from thee-
Thou kens we get as little!

EPIGRAM ON THE ROADS

BETWEEN KILMARNOCK AND STEWARTON.

I'm now arrived, thanks to the gods!
Thro' pathways rough and muddy,--
A certain sign that making roads
Is not this people's study.

And tho' I'm not with scripture crammed,
I'm sure the bible says

That heedless sinners shall be damned
Unless they mend their ways.

SYLVANDER TO CLARINDA.

EXTEMPORE

REPLY ΤΟ HER VERSES

ENTITLED

On Burns saying he had nothing else to do.'

WHEN dear Clarinda, matchless fair,
First struck Sylvander's raptured view,
He gazed, he listened to despair-
Alas! 'twas all he dared to do.

Love from Clarinda's heavenly eyes
Transfixed his bosom thro' and thro',
But still in Friendship's guarded guise--
For more the demon feared to do.

That heart, already more than lost,
The imp beleaguered all perdu,
For frowning Honour kept his post :

To meet that frown, he shrunk to do.

His pangs the bard refused to own,

Tho' half he wished Clarinda knew;
But anguish wrung the unweeting groan--
Who blames what frantic pain must do?

T

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