Humbly inscribed to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
Great Nature spoke: observant man obey’d—Pope.
Let other heroes boast
their scars,
The marks of sturt and
strife:
And other poets sing
of wars,
The plagues of human
life:
Shame fa’ the
fun, wi’ sword and gun
To slap mankind like
lumber!
I sing his name, and
nobler fame,
Wha multiplies our number.
Great Nature spoke,
with air benign,
“Go on, ye human
race;
This lower world I you
resign;
Be fruitful and increase.
The liquid fire of strong
desire
I’ve pour’d
it in each bosom;
Here, on this had, does
Mankind stand,
And there is Beauty’s
blossom.”
The Hero of these artless
strains,
A lowly bard was he,
Who sung his rhymes
in Coila’s plains,
With meikle mirth an’glee;
Kind Nature’s
care had given his share
Large, of the flaming
current;
And, all devout, he
never sought
To stem the sacred torrent.
He felt the powerful,
high behest
Thrill, vital, thro’
and thro’;
And sought a correspondent
breast,
To give obedience due:
Propitious Powers screen’d
the young flow’rs,
From mildews of abortion;
And low! the bard—a
great reward—
Has got a double portion!
Auld cantie Coil may
count the day,
As annual it returns,
The third of Libra’s
equal sway,
That gave another Burns,
With future rhymes,
an’ other times,
To emulate his sire:
To sing auld Coil in
nobler style
With more poetic fire.
Ye Powers of peace,
and peaceful song,
Look down with gracious
eyes;
And bless auld Coila,
large and long,
With multiplying joys;
Lang may she stand to
prop the land,
The flow’r of
ancient nations;
And Burnses spring,
her fame to sing,
To endless generations!
Song—Willie Chalmers
Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:—
Wi’ braw new branks
in mickle pride,
And eke a braw new brechan,
My Pegasus I’m
got astride,
And up Parnassus pechin;
Whiles owre a bush wi’
donwward crush,
The doited beastie stammers;
Then up he gets, and
off he sets,
For sake o’ Willie
Chalmers.
I doubt na, lass, that
weel ken’d name
May cost a pair o’
blushes;
I am nae stranger to
your fame,
Nor his warm urged wishes.
Your bonie face sae
mild and sweet,
His honest heart enamours,
And faith ye’ll
no be lost a whit,
Tho’ wair’d
on Willie Chalmers.