But yet the light that led astray

Was light from heaven.

I 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, The lowly daisy sweetly blows;

'Tho' large the forest's monarch throws

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.

н 4

ADDRESS

ΤΟ

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
May hae some pyles o' caff in ;
So ne'er a fellow-creature slight

For random fits o' daffin.

SOLOMON.-Ecles. ch. vii. ver. 16.

I.

OYE wha are sae guid yoursel,

Sae pious and sae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell

Your Neebour's fauts and folly!

Whase life is like a weel gaun mill,
Supply'd wi' store o' water,

The heapet happer's ebbing still,

And still the clap plays clatter.

II.

Hear me, ye venerable core,

As counsel for poor mortals,
That frequent pass douce wisdom's door
For glaikit folly's portals;

I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,
Would here propone defences,

Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,

Their failings and mischances.

III.

Ye see your state wi' their's compar'd,

And shudder at the niffer,

But cast a moment's fair regard,

What maks the mighty differ

;

Discount what scant occasion gave,

That purity ye pride in,

And (what's aft mair than a' the lave)

Your better art o' hiding,

IV.

Think, when your castigated pulse
Gies now and then a wallop,

What ragings must his veins convulse,

That still eternal gallop :

Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,
Right on ye scud your sea-way;
But in the teeth o' baith to sail,

It maks an unco leeway.

ས.

See social-life and glee sit down,
All joyous and unthinking,
Till, quite transmugrify'd, they're grown
Debauchery and drinking:

O would they stay to calculate

Th' eternal consequences;

Or your more dreaded h-ll to state,

D-mnation of expences!

VI.

Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,

Ty'd up in godly laces,

Before ye gie poor frailty names,

Suppose a change o' cases;