His bonnet reverently is laid aside,
His lyart haffets (1) wearing thin an' bare;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion
glide,

He wales (2) a portion with judicious care, And 'Let us worship God,' he says, with solemn air.

They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim; 110 Perhaps 'Dundee's' wild-warbling measures rise,

Or plaintive 'Martyrs,' worthy of the name; Or noble 'Elgin' beets (3) the heav'n-ward flame,

The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays; Compar'd wi' these, Italian thrills are tame; The tickl'd ears no heart-felt raptures raise; Nae unison hae they wi' our Creator's praise.

The priest-like father reads the sacred page, How Abram was the friend of God on high;

Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage, 120
With Amalek's ungracious progeny,
Or how the royal bard did groaning lie
Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging
ire;

125

Or Job's pathetic plaint, or wailing cry;
Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire:
Or other holy seers that tune the sacred
lyre.

Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,
How guiltless blood for guilty man was
shed;
How He, who bore in Heaven the second

name,

Had not on earth whereon to lay his head:

How his first followers and servants sped, The precepts sage they wrote to many a land:

How He, who lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand; And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounc'd by Heav'n's command. 135

Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King,

The saint, the father, and the husband prays:

Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,'
That thus they all shall meet in future
days;
There ever bask in uncreated rays,

(1) Gray temples. (2) Chooses. (3) Kindles.

140

Princes and lords are but the breath of

kings, 165 'An honest man's the noblest work of God;'

And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind. What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load,

Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd. O Scotia! my dear, my native soil;

For whom my warmest wish to heaven is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And, O! may Heaven their simple lives prevent

175

From luxury's contagion, weak and vile; Then, howev'r crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their muchlov'd isle. 180

O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide, That stream'd through Wallace's undaunted heart;

Who dar'd to, nobly, stem tyrannic pride,
Or nobly die, the second glorious part,
(The patriot's God particularly thou art, 185
His friend, inspirer, guardian, and re-
ward!)

O never, never Scotia's realm desert;
But still the patriot, and the patriot bard,
In bright succession raise, her ornament and
guard.

TAM O' SHANTER.
A Tale.

When chapman billies (1) leave the street,
An' drouthy neebors neebors meet,
As market-days are wearin' late,
An' folk begin to tak' the gate;
While we sit bousing at the nappy, (2)
An' gettin' fou' an' unco (3) happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps, an' styles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Whare sits our sulky sullen dame,
Gath'rin' her brows like gath'rin' storm,
Nursin' her wrath to keep it warm.

10

This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter, As he fra Ayr ae night did canter, (Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses 15 For honest men an' bonnie lasses.)

O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise, As ta'en thy ain wife Kate's advice! She tauld thee weel thou wat a skellum, (4) A bletherin', blusterin', drunken blellum; (5) That frae November till October, Ae market-day thou was na sober, That ilka melder (6) wi' the miller, Thou sat as lang as thou had siller; That ev'ry naig was ca'd a shoe on, The smith and thee gat roaring fou on, That at the L-d's house ev'n on Sunday, Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday. She prophesied that, late or soon, Thou wad be found deep drown'd in Doon, Or catch'd wi' warlocks (7) in the mirk, By Alloway's auld haunted kirk.

But to our tale:-Ae market night, Tam had got planted unco right; Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Wi' reaming swats (1) that drank divinely, And at his elbow, Souter Johnny, His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony; Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither: They had been fou' for weeks thegither. The night drave on wi' sangs an' clatter; An' aye the ale was growin" better; The landlady and Tam grew gracious, Wi' favours secret, sweet, and precious, The Souter tauld his queerest stories; The landlord's laugh was ready chorus; 50 The storm without might rair and rustleTam did na mind the storm a whistle.

25

But pleasures are like poppies spread, You see the flower, its bloom is shed; 60 Or like the snow-falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race,

-

65

That fit ere you can point their place;
Or like the rainbow's lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm.-
Nae man can tether time or tide;
The hour approaches Tam maun ride;
That hour, o' night's black arch the key-
stane, (2)

That dreary hour he mounts his beast in;
An' sic a night he tak's the road in,
As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in.

The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last;
The rattling show'rs rose on the blast;
The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd:
Loud, deep and lang the thunder bellow'd;
That night, a child might understand,
The De'il had business on his hand.

95

By this time he was cross the foord, Whare in the snaw the chapman smoor'd ; (1) An' past the birks an' meikle stane, Whare drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane: An' thro' the whins and by the cairn, Whare hunters fand the murder'd bairn; And near the thorn, aboon the well, Whare Mungo's mother hang'd hersel'.Before him Doon pours a' his floods; The doublin' storm roars thro' the woods; The lightnings flash frae pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll, 100 When, glimmerin' thro' the groanin' trees, Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze; Thro' ilka bore (2) the beams were glancin', And loud resounded mirth an' dancin'.

105

115

Inspirin' bold John Barleycorn! What dangers thou canst mak' us scorn! Wi' tippenny (3) we fear nae evil; Wi' usquabae (4) we'll face the Devil!The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle, Fair play, he car'd nae deils a boddle. 110 But Maggie stood right sair astonish'd, Till, by the heel an' hand admonish'd, She ventur'd forward on the light; An', wow! Tam saw an unco sight! Warlocks an' witches in a dance; Nae cotillon brent new frae France, But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, an' reels, Put life an' mettle i' their heels: At winnock-bunker (5) i' the east, There sat auld Nick in shape o' beast; 120 A towzie tyke, (6) black, grim an' large, To gie them music was his charge; He screw'd the pipes, and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a' did dirl.Coffins stood round like open presses, 125 That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; And by some dev'lish cantraip slight (7) Each in his cauld hand held a light,By which heroic Tam was able, To note upon the haly table, A murderer's banes in gibbet airns: (8) Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns; (9) A thief, new cutted frae a rape, Wi' his last gasp his gab (10) did gape: Five tomahawks wi' blood red-rusted; A garter, which a babe had strangled; A knife, a father's throat had mangled, Whom his ain son o' life bereft, The grey hairs yet stack to the heft; Wi' mair o' horrible an' awfu', Which ev'n to name wad be unlawfu'.

130

135

140

As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, an' curious, The mirth an' fun grew fast an' furious: The piper loud an' louder blew, The dancers quick and quicker flew; 145

(1) Was smothered. (2) Crevice. (3) Twopenny ale. (4) Whisky. (5) Window-seat. (6) Shaggy dog. (7) Magic charm. (8) Irons. (9) Children. (10) Mouth.

They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, (1)

Till ilka carlin (2) swat and reekit,
An' coost her duddies (3) to the wark,
An' linkit (4) at it in her sark! (5)

150

Now Tam, O Tam! had thae been queans, (6) A' plump an' strappin' in their teens; Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen, Been snaw-white se'enteen hunder linen! Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair, That ance were plush, o' guid blue hair, I wad hae gi'en them aff my hurdies, For ae blink o' the bonny burdies!

But wither'd beldams, auld an' droll, Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal, Lowpin' an' flinging on a crummock, (7) I wonder did na turn thy stomach.

But Tam kenn'd what was what fu' brawlie,

165

"There was ae winsome wench an' wailie,' (8)
That night enlisted in the core,
(Lang after kenn'd on Carrick shore;
For mony a beast to dead she shot,
An' perish'd mony a bonnie boat,
An' shook baith meikle corn an' bear, (9)
And kept the country-side in fear;)
Her cutty sark, (10) o' Paisley harn, (11) 170
That, while a lassie, she had worn,
In longitude tho' sorely scanty,

It was her best, and she was vauntie.-
Ah! little kenn'd thy reverend grannie,
That sark she coft (12) for her wee Nannie,
Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches,)
Wad ever graced a dance of witches!

180

But here my muse her wing maun cour;
Sic flights are far beyond her pow'r:
To sing how Nannie lap an' flang.
(A souple jade she was, an' strang,)
An' how Tam stood, like one bewitch'd,
An' thought his very een enrich'd,
Ev'n Satan glowr'd, and fidg'd fu' fain,
An' hotch'd (13) an' blew wi' might and
main;

Till first ae caper, syne anither,
Tam tint his reason a' thegither,

An' roars out, "Weel done, Cutty-sark!'
An' in an instant a' was dark;

An' scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
When out the hellish legion sallied.

185

190

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, (14) When plunderin' herds assail their byke, (15)

(1) Joined hands. (2) Stout old woman. (3) Cast away her clothes. (4) Tripped. (5) Shift. (6) Young girls. (7) Place infested by worms. (Gaelic Croimheag.) (8) Plump. (9) Barley. (10) Short shift. (11) Homespun linen. (12) Bought. (13) Hitched. (14) Haste. (15) Wild-bees' nest.

As open pussie's (1) mortal foes,
When, pop! she starts before their nose;
As eager runs the market-crowd,
When 'Catch the thief!' resounds aloud;
So Maggie runs, the witches follow,
Wi' mony an eldritch (2) screech an' hollow.

200

205

Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'lt get thy fairin'! (3) In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin'! In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin', Kate soon will be a waefu' woman! Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, An' win the key-stane of the brig; There at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they darena cross; But ere the key-stane she could make, The fient a tail (4) she had to shake! For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, An' flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; (5) But little wist she Maggie's mettle,Ae spring brought aff her master hale, But left behind her ain grey tail: The carlin caught her by the rump, An' left poor Maggie scarce a stump.

Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read, Ilk man and mother's son, take heed: Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd, Or cutty-sarks run in your mind, Think, ye may buy the joys o'er dear, Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.

LAMENT OF MARY QUEEN
OF SCOTS.

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,

And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea:

210

215

220

Now Phoebus cheers the crystal streams, 5 And glads the azure skies;

But naught can glad the weary wight

That fast in durance lies.

Now lav'rocks (6) wake the merry morn,
Aloft on dewy wing;

The merle, in his noontide bow'r,
Makes woodland echoes ring;

The mavis (7) wild, wi' mony a note,
Sings drowsy day to rest;

In love and freedom they rejoice,
Wi' care nor thrall opprest.
Now blooms the lily by the bank,
The primrose down the brae; (8)

10

(1) The hare. (2) Goblin, unearthly. (3) A present given at fairs or markets. (4) The devil a tail. (5) Attempt. (6) Lark. (7) Thrush. (8) Rising ground. Herrig, British Auth.