Obrazy na stronie

If naehody eare for me,

I '11 eare for naehody.1 / hav a Wife o' my Ain.

Should auld aequaintanee be forgot.

And never brought to min'? Should auld aequaintanee be forgot,

And days o' lang syne? Auld Lang Syne.

If there 's a hole in a' your coats,

I rede ye tent it;
A ehiel 's amang ye takin' notes,

And, faith, he '11 prent it.
On Captain Grose's Peregrinationt through Scotland.

Dweller in yon dungeon dark,

Hangman of creation, mark!

Who in widow weeds appears,

Laden with unhonoured years,

choosing with care a bursting purse,

Baited with many a deadly curse ? Ode on Mrs. Oswald.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure

Thrill the deepest notes of woe. Sweet sensibility.

But to see her was to love her,

Love but her, and love for ever. Ae Fond Kiss.

Had we never loved sae kindly,

Had we never loved sae blindly,

Never met or never parted,

We had ne'er been hroken-hearted l ihid.

To see her is to love her,

And love but her for ever. Boany Leshy.

Now 's the day, and now 's the hour,

See the front o' battle lour. £aanockhur~i.

1 Compare Biekerstaff. Page 354.

Liberty 's in every blow!

Let us do or die.1 Baanockbum.

In durance vile 2 here must I wake and weep,
And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep.

Epistle from Esopui to Maria.

O, my lure s like a red, red rose,

That 's newly sprung in June; O, my luve 's like the melodie.

That 's sweetly played in tune. A Red, Red Ruse.

Misled by fancy's meteor ray,

By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray

Was light from heaven. The Vision.

And, like a passing thought, she fled

In light away. Mid.

The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man 's the gowd for a' that.8

For a' that and a' that,

A prince can make a belted knight,4

A marquis, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man 's aboon his might,

Guid faith, he maunna fa' that. Ibid.

'T is sweeter for thee despairing,

Than aught in the world beside, — Jessy! Jessy.

1 See Appendix, p. 643.

s Durance vile. — W. Kenrick (1766), Falstaff's Wedding, i. 2; Burke, The Present Discontents.

8 I weigh the man, not his title; H is not the king's stamp can make the metal better. — Wycherley, The Plaindealtr, Act i. Sc. 1.

4 Of the king's creation you may be: but he who makes a Count never made a man. — Southerne, Sir Anthony Lore, Act ii. Sc. 1.


It 's guide to be merry and wise,

It 's gnid to be honest and true,

It 's gnid to support Caledonia's cause,

And bide by the buff and the blue.

Here' s a Health to Them that's Awa'.

Gars auld elaes look amaist as weel 's the new.

The Cotter's Saturday Night.

Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale. lhid.

He wales a portion with judicious care ;
And "Let us worship God!" he says with solemn air.

lhid. From scenes like these old Seotia's grandeur springs,

That makes her loved at home, revered abroad : Prinees and lords are but the breath of kings,

"An honest man 's the noblest work of God." Ibid.

JOHN LOWE. 1750 —

The moon had climbed the highest hill

Which rises o'er the source of Dee, And from the eastern summit shed

Her silver light on tower and tree. Mary's Dream.

MRS. ANNE GRANT. 1755-183&

Roy's wife of Aldivalloeh,

Wat ye how she cheated me,

As I came o'er the braes of Balloeh. Roy's Wife.


WILLIAM MASON. 1725-1797. The fattest hog in Epicurus' sty.1 Heroic Epistle.

TIMOTHY DWIGHT, 1752-1817.

Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,
The queen of the world, and child of the skies!
Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold,
While ages on ages thy splendors unfold. Columbia.

REV. ROBERT HAWKER. 1753-1827.

Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing,

Hope, and comfort from above; Let us each, thy peace possessing,

Triumph in redeeming love. Benediction.

J. P. KEMBLE. 1757-1823.

Perhaps it was right to dissemble your love,
But — why did you kick me down stairs?'

The Panel. Act i. Se. 1.

1 Me pingvtem et nitidum bene curata cute vises, .... Epicuri de grege porcum.

Horace, Epist., Lib. I. iv. 15. 16.

2 Altered from BickerstafTs Til Well it is no worse. The lines are also found in Debrotfs Asylum for Fugitive Pieces, Vol. i. p. 15.

BARRlNGTON. — Robinson. — COLMAN. 891


True patriots all; for be it understood

We left our country for our country's good.1

Prologue written for the Opening of the Play-house at New
South Wales, Jan. 16, 1796. Barringtou's New South
Wales, p. 152.

MARY ROBINSON. 1758-1799.

Bounding billows, cease your motion,

Bear me not so swiftly o'er. Bounding Billows.


On their own merits modest men are dumb.

Epilogue to the heir at law.

And what's impossible can't be,

And never, never comes to pass. The Maid of the Moor.

Three stories high, long, dull, and old,

As great lords' stories often are. lhid.

Like two single gentlemen, rolled into one.

Lodgings for Single Gentlemen.

But when ill indeed, E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed. Ibid.

1 'Twas for the good of my country that I should be abroad.

larquhar, The Beaux Stratagem, Aet iii. Sc. 2.

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