A FRAGMENT.

TUNE-Gillicrankie.

When Guilford good our pilot stood,

And did our hellim thraw, man,
Ae night, at tea, began a plea

Within America, man:
Then up they gat the maskin-pat,

And in the sea did jaw, nian;
An' did nae less, in full congress,

Than quite refuse our law, man.

Then thro' the lakes Montgomery takes,

I wat he wasna slaw, man;
Down Lowrie's burn he took a turn,

And Carleton did ca', man:
But yet, what-reck, he, at Quebec,

Montgomery-like did fa', man,
Wi' sword in hand, before his band,

Amang his en’mies a', man.

Poor Tammy Gage, within a cage

Was kept at Boston ha', man;
Till Willie Howe took o'er the knowe

For Philadelphia, man:
Wi' sword an' gun he thought a sin

Guid christian blood to draw, man; But at New-York, wi' knife an' fork,

Sir-loin he backed sma', man.

Burgoyne gaed up, like spur an' whip,

Till Fraser brave did fa', man;
Then lost his way, ae misty day,

In Saratoga shaw, man.
Cornwallis fought as lang’s he dought,

An' did the buckskins claw, man;
But Clinton's glaive frae rust to save,

He hung it to the wa', man.

Then Montague, an' Guilford too,

Began to fear a fa', man;
And Sackville doure, wha stood the stoure,

The German chief to thraw, man :
For paddy Burke, like ony Turk,
Nae
mercy

had at a', man;
An' Charlie Fox threw by the box,

An' lows'd his tinkler jaw, man.

Then Rockingham took up the game;

Till death did on him ca', man ;
When Shelburne meek held up his cheek,

Conform to gospel law, man;
St. Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise,

They did his measures thraw, man;
For North and Fox united stocks,

An' bore him to the wa', man.

Then clubs and hearts were Charlie's cartes,

He swept the stakes awa’, man,
Till the diamond's ace, of Indian race,

Led him a sair faux pas, man:
The Saxon lads, wi' loud placads,

On Chatham's boy did ca', man ;
An' Scotland drew her pipe, an' blew,

• Up, Willie, waur them a', man!

Behind the throne then Grenville's gone,

A secret word or twa, man;
Wbile slee Dundas arous'd the class

Be-north the Roman wa', man :
An' Chatham's wraith, in heavenly grait,

(Inspired bardies saw, man) Wi’ kindling eyes cry'd, “ Willie, rise !

Would I hae fear'd them a', man?'

But, word an' blow, North, Fox, and Co.

Gowff'd Willie like a ba', man, Till Suthron raise, and coost their claise

Behind him in a raw, man; An' Caledon threw by the drone,

An' did her whittle'draw, man; An' swoor fu' rude, thro’ dirt and blood,

To make it guid in law, man.

WRITTEN IN

FRIARS-CARSE HERMITAGE,

ON NITH SIDE.

Thou whom chance may hither lead,
Be thou clad in russet weed,
Be thou deck'd in silken stole,
Grave these counsels on thy soul,

Life is but a day at most,
Sprung from night, in darkness lost;
Hope not sunshine ev'ry hour,
Fear not clouds will always lour.

As youth and love, with sprightly dance,
Beneath thy morning star advance,
Pleasure with her siren air
May delude the thoughtless pair ;
Let prudence bless enjoyment's cup,
Then raptur'd sip, and sip it up.

As thy day grows warm and high, Life's meridian flaming nigh, Dost thou spurn the humble vale? Life's proud summits wouldst thou scale ? Check thy climbing step, elate, Evils lurk in felon wait: Dangers, eagle-pinioned, bold, Soar around each cliffy hold, While cheerful peace, with linnet song, Chants the lowly dells among.

As the shades of ev'ning close, Beck’ning thee to long repose;

As life itself becomes disease,
Seek the chimney-nook of ease.
There ruminate with sober thought,
On all thou'st seen, and heard, and wrought;
And teach the sportive younkers round,
Saws of experience, sage and sound.
Say, man's true, genuine estimate,
The grand criterion of his fate,
Is not, Art thou high or low?
Did thy fortune ebb or flow?
Did

many talents gild thy span?
Or frugal nature grudge thee one?
Tell them, and press it on their mind,
As thou thyself must shortly find,
The smile or frown of awful Heav'n
To virtue or to vice is giv'n.
Say, to be just, and kind, and wise,
There solid self-enjoyment lies ;
That foolish, selfish, faithless.ways
Lead to the wretched, vile, and base.

Thus resign'd and quiet, creep
To the bed of lasting sleep;
Sleep, whence thou shalt ne'er awake,
Night, where dawn shall never break,
Till future life, future no more,
To light and joy the good restore,
To light and joy unknown before.
Stranger, go! Heav'n be thy guide!
Quod the beadsman of Nith-side.