EXTEMPORE IN THE COURT OF SESSION. НЕ TCNE-Killiecrankie. LORD ADVOCATE. E clenched his pamphlets in his fist, Till in a declamation-mist, He gaped for 't, he graipèd for 't, He fand it was awa', man; MR. ERSKINE. Collected Harry stood a wee, Then opened out his arm, man; And eyed the gathering storm, man; Or torrents owre a linn, man; PROLOGUE SPOKEN BY MR. WOODS ON HIS BENEFIT-NIGHT. WHEN by a generous Public's kind acclaim, That dearest meed is granted Fame; When here your favour is the actor's lot, honest Nor even the man in private life forgot; Poor is the task to please a barbarous throng, It needs no Siddons' powers in Southern's song; But here an ancient nation famed afar, For genius, learning high, as great in war Hail, CALEDONIA, name for ever dear! Before whose sons I'm honoured to appear! Where every science every nobler art That can inform the mind, or mend the heart, Is known; as grateful nations oft have found Far as the rude barbarian marks the bound. Philosophy, no idle pedant dream, Here holds her search by heaven-taught Reason's beam; Here History paints with elegance and force Oh thou dread Power! whose empire-giving hand Has oft been stretched to shield the honoured land! Strong may she glow with all her ancient fire! Bold may she brave grim Danger's loudest roar, Till Fate the curtain drops on worlds to be no more ! A WILLIE'S AWA'. ULD chuckie Reekie 's sair distrest, Nae joy her bonny buskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she lo'es best Willie's awa'! Oh Willie was a witty wight, But now they'll busk her like a fright – The stiffest o' them a' he bowed; We've lost a birkie weel worth gowd Now gawkies, tawpies, gowks, and fools, He wha could brush them down to mools The brethren o' the Commerce-Chaumer Amang them a'; I fear they'll now mak monie a stammer Nae mair we see his levee door The adjutant o' a' the core Now worthy Gregory's Latin face, As Rome ne'er saw; They a' maun meet some ither place — Poor Burns e'en Scotch drink canna quicken; He cheeps like some bewildered chicken, Scared frae its minnie and the cleckin' By hoodie-craw ; Grief's gien his heart an unco kickin' Now every sour-mou'd girnin' blellum His quill may draw ; He wha could brawlie ward their bellum Willie's awa'! Up wimpling stately Tweed I've sped, But every joy and pleasure's fled May I be Slander's common speech, When I forget thee, Willie Creech, May never wicked Fortune touzle him! Then to the blessèd New Jerusalem |