LINES

WRITTEN BY BURNS, WHILE ON HIS DEATH-BED, TO

THE SAME.

HE who f Ranken sang, lies stiff and dead,
And a green grassy hillock hides his head;
Alas! alas! a devilish change indeed!

EXTEMPORE.

[At a meeting of the Dumfriesshire Volunteers, held to commemorate the anniversary of Rodney's victory, April 12th, 1782, Burns was called upon for a song, instead of which he delivered the following lines extempore.]

INSTEAD of a song, boys, I'll give you a toast,
Here's the memory of those on the twelfth that we lost;
That we lost, did I say? nay, by Heaven! that we
found,

For their fame it shall last while the world goes round.

The next in succession, I'll give you the king,
Whoe'er would betray him, on high may he swing:
And here's the grand fabric, our free constitution,
As built on the base of the great revolution;
And, longer with politics not to be cramm'd,
Be anarchy curs'd, and be tyranny damn'd;
And who would to liberty e'er prove disloyal,
May his son be a hangman, and he the first trial

EXTEMPORE,

ON THE LATE MR. WILLIAM SMELLIE.

To Crochallan came

The old cock'd hat, the gray surtout, the same;
His bristling beard just rising in its might,
'Twas four long nights and days to shaving-night;
His uncomb'd grizzly locks, wild staring, thatch'd
A head for thought profound and clear, unmatch'd
Yet, tho' his caustic wit was biting, rude,
His heart was warm, benevolent, and good.

TO MR. S**E,

ON REFUSING TO DINE WITH HIM, AFTER HAVING BEEN PROMISED THE FIRST OF COMPANY, AND THE FIRST COOKERY.

No more of your guests, be they titled or not,
And cook'ry the first in the nation;

Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit,
Is proof to all other temptation.

December, 17, 1795.

Mr. Smellie and Burns were both members of a club in Edinburgh, called the Crochallan Fencibles.

TO MR. S**E,

WITH A PRESENT OF A DOZEN OF PORTER.

O HAD the malt thy strength of mind,
Or hops the flavor of thy wit,
"Twere drink for first of human kind,
A gift that e'en for S**e were fit.
Jerusalem Tavern, Dumfries.

EXTEMPORE,

WRITTEN IN ANSWER TO A CARD FROM AN INTIMATE OF BURNS'S, INVITING HIM TO SPEND AN hour at

A TAVERN.

THE king's most humble servant,
Can scarcely spare a minute;
But I'll be wi' ye, by-an'-by,

Or else the Deil's be in it.

EXTEMPORE,

WRITTEN IN A LADY'S POCKET-BOOK.

GRANT me, indulgent Heav'n! that I may live
To see the miscreants feel the pains they give;
Deal Freedom's sacred treasures free as air,
Till slave and despot be but things which were.

LINES

ON MISS J. SCOTT, OF AYR.

Он! had each Scot of ancient times,
Been Jeany Scott, as thou art,
The bravest heart on English ground,
Had yielded like a coward.

LINES

WRITTEN UNDER THE PICTURE OF THE CELEBRATED

MISS BURNS.

CEASE, ye prudes, your envious railing,

Lovely Burns has charms-confess!

True it is, she had one failing;

Had a woman ever less?

LINES,

ON BEING ASKED WHY GOD HAD MADE MISS DAVIS SO

LITTLE, AND MISS

SO LARGE; WRITTEN ON

A PANE OF GLASS, IN THE INN AT MOFFAT.

ASK why God made the gem so small,
And why so huge the granite!

Because God meant mankind should set
The higher value on it.

LINES

WRITTEN AND PRESENTED TO MRS. KEMBLE, ON SEE

ING HER IN THE CHARACTER OF YARICO.

KEMBLE, thou cur'st my unbelief

Of Moses and his rod;

At Yarico's sweet notes of grief,
The rock with tears had flow'd'

Dumfries Theatre, 1794.

29*