202

EPISTLE TO LAPRAIK.

I've scarce heard ought described sae weel,
What gen'rous, manly bosoms feel;
Thought I, can this be Pope, or Steele,
Or Beattie's wark?

They tauld me 'twas an auld kind chiel
About Muirkirk.

It pat me fidgin1 fain to hear't,
And sae about him there I speered,
Then a' that ken'd him round declar'd
He had ingine,

That nane excell'd it, few cam near't,
It was sae fine;

That, set him to a pint o' ale,
An' either douce or merry tale,

Or rhymes an' sangs he'd made himsel,

Or witty catches,

Tween Inverness and Teviotdale,

He had few matches.

Then up I gat, an' swoor an aith,
Tho' I should pawn my pleugh and graith,
Or die a cadger pownie's death,

At some dyke-back,

A pint an' gill I'd gie them baith

To hear you crack.

But, first an' foremost, I should tell,
Amaist as soon as I could spell,

I to the crambo-jingle fell,

Though rude an' rough,

Yet crooning to a body's sel',

Does weel encugh.

I am na poet, in a sense,

But just a rhymer, like, by chance,

I

Eager.

2

Enquired.

EPISTLE TO LAPRAIK.

An' ha'e to learning nae pretence,

Yet, what the matter?

Whene'er my Muse does on me glance,
I jingle at her.

Your critic-folk may cock their nose,
And say,
"How can you e'er propose,
You wha ken hardly verse frae prose,
To mak' a sang?"

But, by your leave, my learned foes,
Ye're may be wrang.

What's a' your jargon o' your schools,
Your Latin names for horns an' stools;
If honest Nature made you fools,

What sairs your grammars?
Ye'd better ta'en up spades and shools,
Or knappin1-hammers.

A set o' dull, conceited hashes,

Confuse their brains in college classes!
They gang in stirks,3 and come out asses,
Plain truth to speak;

An' syne they think to climb Parnassus

By dint o' Greek!

Gie me a spark o' Nature's fire,

That's a' the learning I desire;

Then though I drudge through dub an' mire.

At pleugh or cart,

My Muse, though hamely in attire,

May touch the heart.

Oh, for a spunk o' Allan's glee,
Or Fergusson's, the bauld and slee,
Or bright Lapraik's, my friend to be,
If I can hit it!

That would be lear eneugh for me,
If I could get it.

Blockheads.

203

3 Year-old cattle (bullock).

Stone-breaking.

4 Allan Ramsay.

204

EPISTLE TO LAPRAIK.

Now, sir, if ye ha'e friends enow,
Though real friends, I b'leive, are few,
Yet, if your catalogue be fou,

I'se no insist,

But gif ye want ae friend that's true,
I'm on your list.

I winna blaw about mysel';

As ill I like my fau'ts to tell;

But friends, an' folk that wish me well,

They sometimes roose1 me; Though I maun own, as monie still

As far abuse me.

But Mauchline race, or Mauchline fair,
I should be proud to meet you there;
We'se gi'e a night's discharge to care
If we forgather,

An' ha'e a swap o' rhymin' ware,

Wi' ane anither.

The four-gill chap, we'se gar3 him clatter,
An' kirsen him wi' reekin' water;

Syne we'll sit down an' tak' our whitter,+

To cheer our heart;

An' faith, we'se be acquainted better

Before we part.

There's naething like the honest nappy
Whar'116 ye e'er see men sae happy,
Or women sonsie, saft, and sappy,"

"Tween morn and morn,

As them wha like to taste the drappy
In glass or horn?

1 Praise.

2

4 Hearty draught of liquor.
7 Comely.

6 Where will.

Stoup. 3 Make.
5 Ale.
8 Small drop.

EPISTLE TO LAPRAIK.

I've seen me dais't1 upon a time,
I scarce could wink, or see a styme;
Just ae half-mutchkin does me prime,
Aught less is little,

Then back I rattle on the rhyme,

As gleg's a whittle !3

Awa' ye selfish war'ly race,

Wha think that havins, sense, and grace,
E'en love and friendship, should give place
To catch-the-plack !+

I dinna like to see your face,

Nor hear you crack.6

But ye whom social pleasure charms,
Whose hearts the tide of kindness warms,
Who hold your being on the terms,

"Each aid the others,"

Come to my bowl, come to my arms,

My friends, my brothers!

But, to conclude my lang epistle,
As my auld pen's worn to the grissle;
Twa lines frae you wad gar me fissle,

Who am, most fervent,

While I can either sing or whissle,

Your friend and servant.

205

206

HALLOWEEN.

HALLOWEEN.1

The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added, to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature, in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such should honour the Author with a perusal, to see the remains of it, among the more unenlightened in our own.-R. B.

Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,

The simple pleasures of the lowly train ;

To me more dear, congenial to my heart,

One native charm, than all the gloss of art.-Goldsmith.

UPON that night, when Fairies light

On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or owre the lays,3 in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the route is ta'en,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the Cove to stray an' rove,
Amang the rocks and streams

To sport that night.

Amang the bonnie, winding banks,
Where Doon rins, wimplin's clear,
Where Bruce ance rul'd the martial ranks,
An' shook his Carrick spear,

1 Halloween is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other mischief making beings are all abroad on their baneful midnight errands; particularly those aerial people, the fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand anniversary.-R. B.

2 Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.-R.B. 3 Fields.

A noted cavern near Colean-honse, called the Cove of Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed in country story for being a favourite haunt of fairies.-R. B. 5 Meandering.

The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, the great deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.-R. B.