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TO JOHN TAYLOR.
With Pegasus upon a day,

Apollo weary flying,
Through frosty hills the journey lay,

On foot the way was plying.

Poor slip-shod giddy Pegasus

Was but a sorry walker ;
To Vulcan then Apollo goes,

To get a frosty calker.
Obliging Vulcan fell to work,

Threw by his coat and bonnet,
And did Sol's business in a crack;

Sol paid him with a sonnet.
Ye Vulcan's sons of Wanlockhead,

Pity my sad disaster ;
My Pegasus is poorly shod-

I'll pay you like my master.

LINES WRITTEN ON A BANK NOTE.
WAE worth thy power, thou cursed leaf !
Fell source o' a' my woe and grief !
For lack o' thee I've lost my lass !
For lack o' thee I scrimp my glass.
I see the children of affliction
Unaided, thro’ thy curs'd restriction.
I've seen the oppressor's cruel smile,
Amid his hapless victim's spoil.
For lack o' thee I leave this much-lov'd shore,
Never, perhaps, to greet old Scotland more.

THE LOYAL NATIVES' VERSES. YE sons of sedition, give ear to my song, Let Syme, Burns, and Maxwell pervade every

throng, With Crackn the attorney, and Mundell the quack, Send Willie the monger to hell with a smack.

These verses were handed over the table to Burns at a convivial meeting, and he endorsed the subjoined reply:

BURNS-EXTEMPORE. YE true ‘Loyal Natives,' attend to my song, In uproar and riot rejoice the night long ; From envy and hatred your corps is exempt ; But where is your shield from the darts of contempt?

REMORSE. Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace, That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish, Beyond comparison the worst are those That to our folly or our guilt we owe. In every other circumstance, the mind Has this to say-It was no deed of mine ;' But when to all the evil of misfortune This sting is added— Blame thy foolish self !' Or worser far, the pangs of keen Remorse ; The torturing, gnawing consciousness of guiltOf guilt, perhaps, where we've involved others; The young, the innocent, who fondly lov'd us, Nay, more, that very love their cause of ruin ! O burning hell! in all thy store of torments, There's not a keener lash ! Lives there a man so firm, who, while his heart

Feels all the bitter horrors of his crime,
Can reason down its agonizing throbs ;
And, after proper purpose of amendment,
Can firmly force his jarring thoughts to peace ?
0, happy ! happy ! enviable man !
O glorious magnanimity of soul !

THE TOAD-EATER. WHAT of earls with whom you have supt,

And of Dukes that you dined with yestreen? Lord ! a louse, Sir, is still but a louse,

Though it crawl on the curls of a Queen.

1786.

TO
SIR,

Mossgiel.
YOURS this moment I unseal,

And faith I am gay and hearty!
To tell the truth an' shame the Deil

I am as fu' as Bartie :
But foorsday Sir, my promise leal

Expect me o' your party,
If on a beastie I can speel,
Or hurl in a cartie.

R. B.

'IN VAIN WOULD PRUDENCE.' IN vain would Prudence, with decorous sneer, Point out a cens’ring world, and bid me fear ; Above that world on wings of love I rise, I know its worst-and can that worst despise. "Wrong'd, injur'd, shunn'd ; unpitied, unredrest, The mock'd quotation of the scorner's jest.' Let Prudence' direst bodements on me fall, Clarinda, rich reward ! o'erpays them all !

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THOUGH fickle Fortune has deceiv'd me,

She promis'd fair and perform’d but ill ;
Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me,

Yet I bear a heart shall support me still. —
I'll act with prudence as far's I'm able,

But if success I must never find,
Then come misfortune, I bid thee welcome,

I'll meet thee with an undaunted mind.

'I BURN, I BURN.? 'I BURN, I burn, as when thro' ripen'd corn, By driving winds the crackling flames are borne,' Now maddening, wild, I curse that fatal night ; Now bless the hour which charm’d my guilty sight. In vain the laws their feeble force oppose : Chain'd at his feet they groan, Love's vanquish'd

foes ;

In vain religion meets my sinking eye ;
I dare not combat-but I turn and fly;
Conscience in vain upbraids th’unhallowed fire ;
Love grasps his scorpions-stifled they expire !
Reason drops headlong from his sacred throne,
Your dear idea reigns and reigns alone :
Each thought intoxicated homage yields,
And riots wanton in forbidden fields !

By all on high adoring mortals know !
By all the conscious villain fears below!
By your dear self !—the last great oath I swear ;
Nor life nor soul were ever half so dear !

EPIGRAM ON A NOTED COXCOMB.
Light lay the earth on Billy's breast,

His chicken heart so tender;
But build a castle on his head,

His scull will prop it under.

TAM THE CHAPMAN.

As Tam the Chapman on a day
Wi' Death forgather'd by the way,
Weel pleas'd, he greets a wight sae famous,
And Death was nae less pleased wi' Thomas,
Wha cheerfully lays down the pack,
And there blaws up a hearty crack ;
His social, friendly, honest heart,
Sae tickled Death they could na part :
Sae after viewing knives and garters,
Death takes him hame to gie him quarters.

TO DR. MAXWELL.
ON MISS JESSY STAIG’S RĘCOVERY.
MAXWELL, if merit here you crave,

That merit I deny :
You save fair Jessy from the grave !

An Angel could not die.

FRAGMENT.

Now health forsakes that angel face,

Nae mair my Dearie smiles ; Pale sickness withers ilka grace,

And a' my hopes beguiles.

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