AN ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE
RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS.

My son, these maxims make a rule,
And lump them aye thegither:
The Rigid Righteous is a fool,

The Rigid Wise anither:

The cleanest corn that e'er was dight
May hae some pyles o' caff in;
So ne'er a fellow-creature slight
For random fits o' daftin.

Oн ye wha are sae guid yoursel',
Sae pious and sae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell

Your neebour's fauts and folly! Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill, Supplied wi' store o' water,

good

60

neighbour's faults

whose, well-going

hopper

The heaped happer's ebbing still,
And still the clap plays clatter.

Then gently scan your brother man,

Still gentler sister woman;

Though they may gang a kennin' wrang,

To step aside is human:

One point must still be greatly dark,

The moving why they do it:

And just as lamely can ye mark

How far perhaps they rue it.

quick motion

great

go, trifle

Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
Decidedly can try us,

He knows each chord-its various tone,
Each spring-its various bias:

Then at the balance let's be mute,
We never can adjust it;

What's done we partly may compute,

But know not what's resisted.

THE INVENTORY.

IN ANSWER TO A MANDATE BY THE SURVEYOR OF THE TAXES.

SIR, as your mandate did request,

I send you here a faithfu' list

O' gudes and gear, and a' my graith,
To which I'm clear to gie my aith.

Imprimis, then, for carriage cattle,
I have four brutes o' gallant mettle,
As ever drew afore a pettle.
My han' afore's* a gude auld has-been,
And wight and wilfu' a' his days been.
My han' ahin's† a weel-gaun filly,
That aft has borne me hame frae Killie,
And your auld burro' mony a time,
In days when riding was nae crime-
But ance, whan in my wooing pride,
I like a blockhead boost to ride,
I played my filly sic a shavie,
She's a MADE USELESS wi' the spavie.
My fur ahin's a wordy beast,
As e'er in tug or tow was traced.
The fourth's a Highland Donald hastie,
A DAFT red wud Kilburnie beastie !
Forbye a cowte o' cowtes the wale,
As ever ran afore a tail,

riches, harness oath

plough-stick

stout

Kilmarnock

once behoved trick

right horse behind, worthy plough, harnessed

If he be spared to be a beast,
He'll draw me fifteen pun' at least-
Wheel carriages I hae but few,

Three carts, and twa are feckly new;
Ae auld wheelbarrow, mair for token
Ae leg and baith the trams are broken;
I made a poker o' the spin'le,
And my auld mither brunt the trin'le.

For men I've three mischievous boys,

Run WILD for rantin' and for noise;

A gaudsman ane, a thrasher t'other,

wild

besides, colt, choice

pounds

nearly

one

both, shafts

burnt, wheel

ploughman one

Wee Davock hauds the nowt in fother. keeps, cattle, fodder

I rule them, as I ought, discreetly,
And aften labour them completely;
And aye on Sundays duly, nightly,

belabour

alway examine

+ Left horse behind.

I on the Questions targe them tightly;
Left horse in front of plough.

TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY,

ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH IN APRIL 1786.

WEE, modest, crimson-tippèd flower,

Thou's met me in an evil hour;
For I maun crush amang the stoure
Thy slender stem:

To spare thee now is past my power,
Thou bonnie gem.

Alas! it's no thy neibor sweet,
The bonnie lark, companion meet,

must, dust

ardens yield,

va's maun shield:
bield

wed

cold

glanced

walls manst

shelter

de the heart, 'tis He alone

BURNS' POEMS.

s various bius: Let's be mute,

chord-its various tone,

ompute,

TAXES

Till billows rage, and gales blow hard,
And whelm him o'er!

Such fate to suffering worth is given,
Who long with wants and woes has striven,
By human pride or cunning driven
To misery's brink,

Till wrenched of every stay but Heaven,
He, ruined, sink!

Even thoa who mourn'st the Daisy's fate,
That fate is thine-no distant date;
Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate,
Full on thy bloom,

Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight,
Shall be thy doom.

Till, faith, wee Davock's turned sae gleg,
Though scarcely langer than your leg,
He'll screed you aff Effectual Calling,
As fast as ony in the dwalling.

Wi' weans I'm mair than weel contented,
Heaven sent me ane mae than I wanted.

quick taller repeat, off

children

one more

My sonsie, smirking, dear-bought Bess, stout, good-natured

She stares the daddy in her face,

Enough of ought ye like but grace;
But her, my bonny sweet wee lady,
I've paid enough for her already.

And now, remember, Mr Aiken,
Nae kind of license out I'm takin';
My travel, a' on foot I'll shank it,
I've sturdy bearers, praise be thankit.
Sae dinna put me in your buke,
Nor for my ten white shillings luke.

This list wi' my ain hand I've wrote it,
The day and date as under noted;
Then know all ye whom it concerns,
Subscripsi huic,

MOSSGIEL, February 22, 1786.

walk

book

look

ROBERT BURNS.

THOU flattering mark of friendship kind,
Still may thy pages call to mind

The dear, the beauteous Donor:
Though sweetly female every part,
Yet such a head, and more the heart,
Does both the sexes honour.

She showed her taste refined and just
When she selected thee,

Yet deviating own I must,

In sae approving me;

But kind still, I'll mind still

The Giver in the gift

I'll bless her, and wiss her
A friend aboon the lift.

wish

above, sky

TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY,

ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH IN APRIL 1786.

WEE, modest, crimson-tippèd flower,

Thou's met me in an evil hour;
For I maun crush amang the stoure

Thy slender stein:

To spare thee now is past my power,
Thou bonnie gem.

Alas! it's no thy neibor sweet,
The bonnie lark, companion meet,

must, dust