ELEGY, ETC. THE SELKIRK GRACE.' SOME hae meat, and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; 237 ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF PEG NICHOLSON. PEG NICHOLSON was a gude bay mare, As ever trode on airn; But now she's floating down the Nith, Peg Nicholson was a gude bay mare, Peg Nicholson was a gude bay mare, But now she 's floating down the Nith, Peg Nicholson was a gude bay mare, An' the priest he rode her sair; An' meikle oppress'd an' bruised she was, ON SEEING MISS FONTENELLE IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER. SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, Then indeed thou'd'st act a part. Baid by Burns, at the request of the Earl of Selkirk. THE LEAGUE AND COVENANT.' Cost Scotland blood-cost Scotland tears; ON MISS JESSY LEWARS. TALK not to me of savages No savage e'er could rend my heart, But Jessy's lovely hand in mine, A mutual faith to plight, Not ev'n to view the Heavenly choir, Would be so blest a sight. EPITAPH ON MISS JESSY LEWARS." SAY, Sages, what's the charm on earth Can turn Death's dart aside? It is not purity and worth, Else Jessy had not died. THE RECOVERY OF JESSY LEWARS. BUT rarely seen since Nature's birth, The natives of the sky, Yet still one Seraph's left on earth, For Jessy did not die. THE TOAST. FILL me with the rosy wine, In reply to a gentleman who undervalued the sufferings of Scotland for conscience sake." 2 Playfully written, when she was indisposed. TO MISS C.-WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF ONE OF MISS HANNAH MORE'S WORKS. THOU flattering mark of friendship kind, The dear, the beauteous donor: Though sweetly female every part, She showed her taste refined and just Yet deviating, own I must, For so approving me. But kind still, I'll mind still The giver in the gift; I'll bless her and wiss her A Friend above the Lift." INSCRIPTION ON A GOBLET. THERE's death in the cup-sae beware! The man and his wine sae bewitching! THE BOOK-WORMS.3 THROUGH and through the inspired leaves, 1 Hot. Sky. 'Suggested by a splendidly bound, but worm-eaten copy of Shaks peare. ON ROBERT RIDDEL. To Riddel, much-lamented man, Reader, dost value matchless worth? WILLIE CHALMERS.' Wr' braw new branks in mickle pride, And up Parnassus pechin;' Whiles owre a bush wi' downward crush I doubt na, lass, that weel-kenn'd name I am nae stranger to your fame, His honest heart enamours, And, faith, ye'll no be lost a whit, Auld Truth hersel' might swear ye're fair, I doubt nae fortune may you shore And hand upon his breastie: 1 Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her. and wrote as follows.-R. B. With new bridle and collar. 9 Panting. Gentle-mouthed, TO JOHN TAYLOR. But oh! what signifies to you, Some gapin' glowrin' countra laird Seek Heaven for help, and barefit skelp Forgive the Bard! my fond regard, TO JOHN TAYLOR. WITH Pegasus upon a day, Through frosty hills the journey lay, Poor slip-shod giddy Pegasus Obliging Vulcan fell to work, Ye Vulcan's sons of Wanlockhead, My Pegasus is poorly shod I'll pay you like my master. 1 Praise. 243 * Burns, during one of his excise journeys, on a winter day, found it necessary to get his horse's shoes "roughed." The blacksmith was very busy; and the Poet sought Mr. Taylor's influence in obtaining his aid.-R. K |