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And near I saw, bold issuing forth

In youthful pride,

A Lindsay, race of noble worth,

Famed far and wide.

Where, hid behind a spreading wood,
An ancient Pict-built mansion stood,
I spied, among an angel brood,

A female pair;

Sweet shone their high maternal blood,
And father's air.1

An ancient tower 2 to memory brought
How Dettingen's bold hero fought;
Still far from sinking into nought,
It owns a lord

Who "far in western "3 climates fought,
With trusty sword.

There, where a sceptred Pictish shade
Stalked round his ashes lowly laid,

I saw a martial race portrayed

In colours strong;4

Bold, sodger-featured, undismayed,

They stalked along.

1 Sundrum.-B. Mr. Hamilton of Sundrum was inarried to a sister of Colonel Montgomery of Coilsfield; consequently, Burns felt a great interest in the family. The female pair were Misses Lillias and Margaret Hamilton, the latter of whom was living in 1851.

2 Stair. - B.

8 These words are written over the original in another hand.

4 The Montgomeries of Coilsfield.

Among the rest I well could spy
One gallant, graceful, martial boy,
The sodger sparkled in his eye,

A diamond water;

I blest that noble badge with joy

That owned me frater.1

After the 20th stanza:

Near by arose a mansion fine,2
The seat of many a muse divine;
Not rustic muses such as mine,

With holly crowned,

But th' ancient, tuneful, laurelled Nine,
From classic ground.

I mourned the card that Fortune dealt,
To see where bonny Whitefoords dwelt; 3
But other prospects made me melt,

That village near; 4

There Nature, Friendship, Love I felt,

Fond-mingling dear.

Hail! Nature's pang, more strong than death!
Warm friendship's glow, like kindling wrath!

1 Captain James Montgomery, Master of St. James's Lodge, Torbolton, to which the author has the honour to belong.-B. 2 Auchinleck. - B. The poet here pays a compliment to the Boswell family, and particularly to the biographer of Johnson.

3 Ballochmyle. The Whitefoords were at this time parting with the property.

4 Mauchline.

Love, dearer than the parting breath
Of dying friend!

"Not even "1 with life's wild devious path,
Your force shall end!

The power that gave the soft alarms,
In blooming Whitefoord's rosy charms,
Still threats the tiny-feathered arms,
The barbed dart,

While lovely Wilhelmina warms

The coldest heart.?

After the 21st:

Where Lugar leaves his moorland plaid,3
Where lately Want was idly laid,

I marked busy, bustling Trade,

In fervid flame,

Beneath a patroness's aid,

Of noble name;

While countless hills I could survey,
And countless flocks as well as they;
But other scenes did charms display,

That better please,

Where polished manners dwelt with Gray

1 Originally written "

In rural ease.4

only."

2 A compliment to Miss Wilhelmina Alexander, the "Bonny Lass of Ballochmyle," in whom certainly, when Maria Whitefoord departed, the poetic worshipper of beauty found a new goddess not inferior to the former divinity.

3 Cumnock. — B.

4 Mr. Farquhar Gray. — B.

Where Cessnock pours with gurgling sound,1
And Irwine, marking out the bound,
Enamoured of the scenes around,

Slow runs his race,

A name I doubly honoured found,2

With knightly grace.

Brydone's brave ward, I saw him stand,3
Fame humbly offering her hand;
And near his kinsman's rustic band,4
With one accord,

Lamenting their late blessed land

Must change its lord.

The owner of a pleasant spot,
Near sandy wilds I did him note; 5
A heart too warm, a pulse too hot,
At times o'erran ;

But large in every feature wrote,

Appeared the man.

1 Auchinskieth.

2 Caprington.-B. Cunningham of Caprington, Baronet. 8 Colonel Fullarton. - B.

4 Dr. Fullarton. — B.

5 Orangefield. B. Mr. Dalrymple of Orangefield, near Ayr, was an active patron of Burns.

SONG,

IN THE CHARACTER OF A RUINED FARMER.

TUNE-Go from my window, Love, do.

The sun he is sunk in the west,
All creatures retirèd to rest,
While here I sit all sore beset

With sorrow, grief, and wo;

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

The prosperous man is asleep,

Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep;

But Misery and I must watch

The surly tempest blow:

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

There lies the dear partner of my breast, Her cares for a moment at rest:

Must I see thee, my youthful pride,

Thus brought so very low!

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

There lie my sweet babies in her arms, No anxious fear their little heart alarms; But for their sake my heart doth ache, With many a bitter throe:

And it's O, fickle Fortune, O!

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