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But late she flourish’d, rooted fast,
Fair in the summer morn:
Unshelter'd and forlorn.
Blest be thy bloom, thou lovely gem,
Unscath'd by ruffian hand !
Arise to deck our land.
WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL,
STANDING BY THE FALL OF FYERS, NEAR
MONG the heathy hills and ragged CA. woods
The roaring Fyers pours his mossy
floods; Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds, Where, thro'a shapeless breach, his stream resounds. As high in air the bursting torrents flow, As deep recoiling surges foam below, Prone down the rock the whitening sheet descends, And viewless Echo's ear, astonished, rends. Dim-seen, thro' rising mists and ceaseless show'rs, The hoary cavern, wide-surrounding, low'rs. 10 Still, thro' the gap the struggling river toils, And still, below, the horrid cauldron boils,—
SECOND EPISTLE TO DAVIE,
A BROTHER POET.*
* This Epistle was prefixed to the edition of Sillar's Poems published at Kilmarnock in 1789. Burns' “First Epistle” to David Sillar produced the answer which will be found in the Appendix, and which he here calls Davie's
“auld-farrent, frien’ly letter.” The text is taken from the copy printed with other of Burns' pieces at Glasgow, in 1801, from the Poet's own manuscript.
Of a' the thoughtless sons o' man,
They ever think.
An' while ought's there,
An' fash nae mair.
The Muse, poor hizzie !
She's seldom lazy. Haud tae the Muse, my dainty Davie: The warl may play you monie a shavie ; But for the Muse, she'll never leave ye,
Tho' e'er sae puir, Na, even tho limpin' wi’ the spavie
Frae door tae door.
IN ANSWER TO THE USUAL MANDATE SENT BY A
SURVEYOR OF THE TAXES, REQUIRING A RETURN OF THE NUMBER OF HORSES,
SERVANTS, CARRIAGES, ETC. KEPT. This characteristic production was not included in any edition of Burns' works prepared by himself. It was printed in the Liverpool edition, and again in the Glasgow Collection in 1801, with many additions, and it is here given from a copy in the Poet's own writing. R ASEIR, as your mandate did request,
I send you here a faithfu’ list, O O'gudes an’ gear, an'a' my graith, Em To which I'm clear to gi'e my aith.
Imprimis then, for carriage cattle, I have four brutes o' gallant mettle, As ever drew afore a pettle; My han' afore's * a gude auld has-been, An' wight an’ wilfu’a’ his days been ; My han’ahin's † a weel gaun fillie, That aft has borne me hame frae Killie, An' your auld burrough mony a time, In days when riding was nae crimeBut ance whan in my wooing pride I like a blockhead boost to ride, The wilfu' creature sae I pat to, (Lord, pardon a'my sins an' that to !) * The fore-horse on the left-hand in the plough. R. B. + The hindmost on the left-hand in the plough. R. B. Kilmarnock. R. B.
I play'd my fillie sic a shavie,
Wheel carriages I ha’e but few,
I've nane in female servan' station, (Lord keep me ay frae a' temptation !) I ha'e nae wife; and that my bliss is, * The hindmost horse on the right-hand in the plough.