The artisan; All choose, as various they're inclin❜d, The various man. When yellow waves the heavy grain, With tillage skill; And some instruct the shepherd-train, Blythe o'er the hill. Some hint the lover's harmless wile; Some grace the maiden's artless smile; Some soothe the weary labourer's toil For humble gains, And make his cottage-scenes beguile His cares and pains. Some, hounded to a district space, Explore at large man's infant race, To mark the embryotic trace Of rustic bard; And careful note each op'ning grace, A guide and guard. "Of these am I-Coila my name; Held ruling pow'r: I mark'd thy embryo tuneful flame, Thy natal hour. With future hope, I oft would gaze, Fond, on thy little early ways, Thy rudely caroll'd chiming phrase In uncouth rhymes, Fir'd at the simple artless lays Of other times. 'I saw thee seek the sounding shore, Drove thro' the sky, I saw grim nature's visage hoar Struck thy young eye. 'Or when the deep-green mantl'd earth Warm cherish'd ev'ry flow'ret's birth, And joy and music pouring forth In ev'ry grove, 1 saw thee eye the gen'ral mirth With boundless love. "When ripen'd fields, and azure skies, Call'd forth the reaper's rustling noise, 1 saw thee leave their evening joys, And lonely stalk, To vent thy bosom's swelling rise In pensive walk. "When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong, Keen-shiv'ring shot thy nerves along, Those accents, grateful to thy tongue, Th' adored Name, I taught thee how to pour in song, To sooth thy flame. I saw thy pulse's madd'ning play Wild send thee pleasure's devious way, Misled by fancy's meteor-ray, By passion driv❜n ; But yet the light that led astray Was light from heav'n! 1 taught thy manners-painting strains The loves, the ways of simple swains, Till now, o'er all my wide domains Thy fame extends; And some, the pride of Coila's plains, Become thy friends. Thou canst not learn, nor can I show, To paint with Thomson's landscape-glow; Or wake the bosom-melting throe, With Shenstone's art; Or pour, with Gray, the moving flow Warm on the heart. 'Yet all beneath th' unrivall'd rose, His army shade, Yet green the juicy hawthorn grows Adown the glade. Then, never murmur, nor repine; Strive in thy humble sphere to shine; And trust me, not Potosi's mine, Nor king's regard, Can give a bliss o'ermatching thine, A rustic bard. To give my counsels all in one, Thy tuneful flame still careful fan; Preserve the dignity of man, With soul erect; And trust the Universal Plan Will all protect. And wear thou this,'-she solemn said, And bound the holly round my head; The polish'd leaves, and berries red, Did rustling play; And, like a passing thought, she fled In light away. ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS. My son, these maxims make a rule, And lump them ay thegither; The rigid righteous is a fool, The rigid wise anither; The cleanest corn that e'er was dight, For random fits o' daffin. SOLOMON.-Eccles. ch. vii. ver. 16 OYE wha are sae guid yoursel, Sae pious and sae holy, Ye've nought to do but mark and tell Whase life is like a well-gaun mill, I, for their thoughtless careless sakes, Ye see your state wi' theirs compar'd, But cast a moment's fair regard, And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) Think, when your castigated pulse See social life and glee sit down, Oh, would they stay to calculate Or your more dreadful hell to state, Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames, Before ye gie poor frailty names, A dear-lov'd lad, convenience snug; Then gently scan your brother man, One point must still be greatly dark, Who made the heart, 'tis He alone He knows each chord-its various tone, Then at the balance let's be mute, What's done we partly may compute, HAS auld K******** seen the Deil ? POPE. To preach an' read? Na waur than a'!' cries ilka chiel, Tam Samson's dead!' When this worthy old sportsman went out last muirfowl season, he supposed it was to be, in Ossian's phrase, the last of his fields;' and expresed an ardent wish to die and be buried in the muirs. On this bint the author composed his Elegy and Epitaph. A certain preacher, a great favourite with the million. Vide the Ordination, stanza ii. Another preacher, an equal favourite with the few, who was at that time ailing. For him see also the Ordination, stanza ix. |