It was observed she did not seem quite convinced of the propriety of Mrs. Dunlop's being as careful respecting accommodation and entertainment when this new man was expected, as when any of the neighbouring landed gentry visited at the House. By way of convincing her of the Poet's claim to such attention, Mrs. Dunlop gave her the Cotter's Saturday Night to read.-On returning the book, she remarked, "Gentlemen and Ladies may think mickle "o' this; but for me it's naething but what I saw i' my "father's house every day, and I dinna see how he could "hae tell't it ony ither way."

MAN

MAN

WAS MADE TO MOURN:

DIRGE.

I.

WHEN Chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
One ev❜ning, as I wander'd forth,
Along the banks of Ayr,

I spy'd a man, whose aged step

Seem'd weary, worn with care;

His face was furrow'd o'er with years, And hoary was his hair.

II.

Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou?

Began the rev'rend sage;

Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain,
Or youthful pleasure's rage?
Or haply, prest with cares and woes,
Too soon thou hast began

To wander forth, with me, to mourn
The miseries of man.

III.

The sun that overhangs yon moors,
Out-spreading far and wide,
Where hundreds labour to support
A haughty lordling's pride;
I've seen yon weary winter-sun
Twice forty times return;
And ev'ry time has added proofs,
That man was made to mourn.

IV.

O man! while in thy early years,
How prodigal of time!

Mis-spending all thy precious hours,
Thy glorious youthful prime!

Alternate

Alternate follies take the sway;
Licentious passions burn;

Which tenfold force gives nature's law,
That man was made to mourn.

V.

Look not alone on youthful prime,
Or manhood's active might;
Man then is useful to his kind,
Supported is his right:

But see him on the edge of life,

With cares and sorrows worn,

Then age and want, Oh! ill-match'd pair; Show man was made to mourn.

VI.

A few seem favourites of fate,
In pleasure's lap carest;

Yet, think not all the rich and great

Are likewise truly blest.

But, Oh! what crowds in ev'ry land,
Are wretched and forlorn:

Thro' weary life this lesson learn,

That man was made to mourn.

VII.

Many and sharp the num'rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!

More pointed still we make ourselves,
Regret, remorse, and shame!

And man, whose heav'n-erected face

The smiles of love adorn,

Man's inhumanity to man

Makes countless thousands mourn!

VIII.

See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight,
So abject, mean, and vile,
Who begs a brother of the earth

To give him leave to toil;
And see his lordly fellow-worm
The poor petition spurn,
Unmindful, tho' a weeping wife
And helpless offspring mourn.

IX.

If I'm design'd yon lordling's slave

By Nature's law design'd, Why was an independent wish E'er planted in my mind?

If