FOR R. A., ESQ. KNOW thou, O stranger to the fame ON A FRIEND. AN honest man here lies at rest, A BARD'S EPITAPH. Is there a whim-inspir'd fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool, Let him draw near: And owre this grassy heap sing dool, Is there a bard of rustic song, Who, noteless, steals the crowds among, That weekly this area throng, O, pass not by! But, with a frater-feeling strong, Is there a man whose judgment clear, Here pause, and, thro' the starting tear, The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his na.ne' Reader, attend whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkly grubs this earthly hole, Know, prudent, cautious self-control Is wisdom's root VERSES ON THE BIRTH OF A POSTHUMOUS CHILD, BORN IN PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCES OF FAMILY DISTRESS. SWEET flowret, pledge o' meikle love, And ward o' monie a pray'r, What heart o' stane wad thou na move, November hirples o'er the lea, And gane, alas! the shelt'ring tree, May He who gives the rain to pour, Protect thee frae the driving show'r, The bitter frost and snaw! May He, the friend of wo and want, But late she flourish'd, rooted fast, Blest be thy bloom, thou lovely gem, And from thee many a parent stem LINES OF SCARING SOME WATER-FOWL IN LOCH TURIT, A WILE WHY, ye tenants of the lake, Conscious, blushing for our race, Plumes himself in Freedom's pride, Tyrant stern to all beside. The eagle from the cliffy brow Glories in his heart humane, And creatures for his pleasure slain! In these savage, liquid plains, And life's poor season peaceful spend Or, if man's superior might Man with all his powers you scorn; Other lakes and other springs; And the foe you cannot brave, Scorn at least to be his slave. SONNET WRITTEN ON THE 25TH OF JANUARY, 1793, the birth. DAY OF THE Author, ON HEARING A THRUSH, IN A SING on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough; Sits meek Content, with light, unanxious heart, |