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?
O, 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.
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.
'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!
'THOUGH FICKLE FORTUNE?
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, 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
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 RECOVERY.
MAXWELL, if merit here you crave,
That merit I deny :
You save fair Jessy from the grave!
An Angel could not die.
Now health forsakes that angel face,
Nae mair my Dearie smiles;
Pale sickness withers ilka grace,
And a' my hopes beguiles.
The cruel powers reject the prayer
I hourly mak for thee;
Ye Heavens, how great is my despair,
How can I see him die !
THERE'S NAETHIN LIKE THE HONEST
NAPPY.
THERE'S naethin like the honest nappy!
Whaur'll ye e'er see men sae happy,
Or women sonsie, saft an' sappy,
'Tween morn an' morn,
As them wha like to taste the drappie
In glass or horn.
I've seen me daez't upon a time;
I scarce could wink or see a styme;
Just ae hauf muchkin does me prime,
Ought less is little,
Then back I rattle on the rhyme
As gleg's a whittle !
SPOKEN BY MR. WOODS, ON HIS BENEFIT NIGHT,
MONDAY, APRIL 16, 1787.
WHEN by a generous public's kind acclaim,
That dearest meed is granted-honest fame;
When here your favour is the actor's lot,
Nor even the man in private life forgot;
What breast so dead to heav'nly virtue's glow,
But heaves impassion'd with the grateful throe?
Poor is the task to please a barb'rous throng, It needs no Siddons' power in Southern's song : But here an ancient nation, fam'd afar For genius, learning high, as great in warHail, Caledonia! name for ever dear! Before whose sons I'm honour'd to appear! Where every science, every nobler art— That can inform the mind, or mend the heart, Is known; as grateful nations oft have found, Far as the rude barbarian marks the bound. Philosophy, no idle, pedant dream,
Here holds her search, by heaven-taught Reason's beam;
Here History paints with elegance and force,
The tide of Empire's fluctuating course;
Here Douglas forms wild Shakespeare into plan,
And Harley rouses all the god in man.
When well-form'd taste, and sparkling wit unite,
With manly lore, or female beauty bright,
(Beauty, where faultless symmetry and grace,
Can only charm us in the second place),
Witness my heart, how oft with panting fear,
As on this night, I've met these judges here!
But still the hope Experience taught to live,
Equal to judge-you're candid to forgive.
No hundred-headed Riot here we meet,
With decency and law beneath his feet,
Nor Insolence assumes fair Freedom's name ;
Like Caledonians, you applaud or blame.
O Thou, dread Power! whose empire-giving hand Has oft been stretch'd to shield the honour'd land, Strong may she glow with all her ancient fire; May every son be worthy of his sire ;
Firm may she rise with generous disdain
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