But late she flourish'd, rooted fast, Now, feebly bends she in the blast, Blest be thy bloom, thou lovely gem, And from thee many a parent stem 20 WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL, STANDING BY THE FALL OF FYERS, NEAR LOCH-NESS. MONG the heathy hills and ragged woods The roaring Fyers pours his mossy Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds, As deep recoiling surges foam below, Prone down the rock the whitening sheet descends, 10 SECOND EPISTLE TO DAVIE, A BROTHER POET.* AULD NEEBOR, 'M three times doubly o'er your debtor, For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter Some less maun sair. Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle; O' war❜ly cares, Till bairns' bairns kindly cuddle Your auld gray hairs. But Davie, lad, I'm red ye're glaikit ; Until ye fyke; Sic hauns as you sud ne'er be faikit, Be hain't wha like. 10 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. For me, I'm on Parnassus' brink, Rivin' the words tae gar them clink; Whyles daez't wi' love, whyles dacz't wi' drink, Wi' jads or masons ; An' whyles, but aye owre late, I think Braw sober lessons. Of a' the thoughtless sons o' man, Except it be some idle plan The devil-haet, that I sud ban, O' rhymin clink, They ever think. Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme o' livin', But just the pouchie put the nieve in, An' while ought's there, Then hiltie skiltie, we gae scrievin', An' fash nae mair. Leeze me on rhyme! it's aye a treasure, The Muse, poor hizzie ! Haud tae the Muse, my dainty Davie: Tho' e'er sae puir, Na, even tho' limpin' wi' the spavie Frae door tae door. 20 30 40 THE INVENTORY, 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. IR, as your mandate did request, Imprimis then, for carriage cattle, My han' afore's* a gude auld has-been, aith. The fore-horse on the left-hand in the plough. R. B. 10 I play'd my fillie sic a shavie, If he be spar'd to be a beast, I on the questions targe them tightly; I've nane in female servan' station, · The hindmost horse on the right-hand in the plough. R. B. |