WHEN EPIGRAM. deceased, to the devil went down, 'Twas nothing would serve him but Satan's own crown; 'Thy fool's head,' quoth Satan, 'that crown shall wear never, I grant thou'rt as wicked, but not quite so clever.' LINES INSCRIBED ON A PLATTER. My blessings on ye, honest wife, I ne'er was here before: Ye've wealth o' gear for spoon and knife- Heaven keep you clear of sturt and strife, Till far ayont four score, And by the Lord o' death and life, TO YOUR billet, sir, I grant receipt ; Though 'twere a trip to yon blue warl', ON MR. M'MURDO. BLEST be M'Murdo to his latest day, TO A LADY WHO WAS LOOKING UP THE TEXT DURING SERMON. FAIR maid, you need not take the hint, Nor idle texts pursue: 'Twas guilty sinners that he meant Not angels such as you! IMPROMPTU. How daur ye ca' me howlet-faced, ΤΟ FRIDAY first's the day appointed To get a blad o' Johnie's morals, The Master and the Brotherhood If Death, then, wi' skaith, then, Mossgiel, An. M. 5790. ROBERT BURNS. TO A PAINTER. DEAR I'll gie ye some advice You'll tak it no uncivil: You shouldna paint at angels mair, To paint an angel's kittle wark, Wi' auld Nick there's less danger; LINES WRITTEN ON A TUMBLER. YOU'RE Welcome, Willie Stewart ; You're welcome, Willie Stewart; Come, bumpers high, express your joy, May foes be strang, and friends be slack, May woman on him turn her back, ON MR. W. CRUIKSHANK, OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, EDINBURGH. SONGS. THE LASS O BALLOCHMYLE. TUNE MISS FORBES'S FAREWELL ΤΟ BANFF, OR ETTRICK BANKS.' 'TWAS even the dewy fields were green, All nature listening seem'd the while : With careless step I onward stray'd, A maiden fair I chanc'd to spy; Fair is the morn in flowery May, |