of St James Lodge; and Chambers tells us that the first four lines of the closing stanza of this song refer to him. On the other hand, a little work of some pretentions, called "A winter with Robert Burns," asserts that the reference is to William Wallace "of the Tarbolton St David's," Sheriff of the County of Ayr-a name "to masonry and Scotia dear." Strange to say, a note in the "Aldine" edition tells us that this half-stanza refers to Sir John Whitefoord.]

ON A SCOTCH BARD,

GONE TO THE WEST INDIES.

A' YE wha live by sowps * o' drink,
A' ye wha live by crambo-clink,+
A' ye wha live and never think,

Come, mourn wi' me!

Our billie's gien us a' a jink,

An' owre the sea!

Lament him a' ye rantin core,
Wha dearly like a random-splore ; §
Nae mair he'll join the merry roar,
In social key;

For now he's taen anither shore,

An' owre the sea!

The bonie lasses weel may wiss him,
And in their dear petitions place him :
The widows, wives, an' a' may bless him
Wi' tearfu' e'e;

For weel I wat they'll sairly miss him
That's owre the sea!

O Fortune, they hae room to grumble!
Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle,[]

† versifying. + brother. ? frolic.

spoonfuls.

blunderer.

Wha can do nought but fyke an' fumble,

'Twad been nae plea ;

But he was gleg as onie wumble,*

That's owre the sea!

Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers † wear,
An' stain them wi' the saut, saut tear :
'Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,
In flinders + flee :

He was her Laureat monie a year,

That's owre the sea!

He saw Misfortune's cauld nor-west
Lang mustering up a bitter blast;
A jillet § brak his heart at last,

Ill may she be !

So, took a berth afore the mast,

An' owre the sea.

To tremble under Fortune's cummock, ||
On scarce a bellyfu' o' drummock, ¶
Wi' his proud, independent stomach,
Could ill agree;

So, row't his hurdies ** in a hammock,
An' owre the sea.

He ne'er was gien to great misguidin,
Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in ;
Wi' him it ne'er was under hidin;

He dealt it free:

The Muse was a' that he took pride in,

That's owre the sea.

Jamaica bodies, use him weel,

An' hap him in a cozie biel : tt

joiner's gimlet. fragments. ** posteriors.

t a stripe of white muslin on the cuffs of mourners.

§ jilt. || cudgel.

tt comfortable shelter.

¶ meal and water mixed.

Ye'll find him ay a dainty chiel,

An' fou o' glee :

He wad na wrang'd the vera deil,

That's owre the sea.

Fareweel, my rhyme-composing billie!
Your native soil was right ill-willie;
But may ye flourish like a lily,

Now bonilie!

I'll toast you in my hindmost gillie,*

Tho' owre the sea!

[This playful ode shines out cheerfully among the poet's more pathetic leave-takings of the period. He puts it into the mouth of an imaginary "rhyme-composing brother;" but not one of the tribe, except the bard of Kyle himself, could have produced such an original and happy strain. His own picture is painted to the life, in all his "ranting, roving Robinhood;" and yet, amid his rollicking, he throws in a touch of the true pathetic, just to show his reader how

"Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure,
Thrill the deepest notes of woe."]

SONG.-FAREWELL TO ELIZA.

Tune-"Gilderoy."

FROM thee, Eliza, I must go,

And from my native shore;
The cruel fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar :
But boundless oceans, roaring wide,
Between my love and me,

They never, never can divide

My heart and soul from thee.

Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore!

* gill of whisky.

A boding voice is in mine ear,

We part to meet no more!

But the latest throb that leaves my heart,
While Death stands victor by,-

That throb, Eliza, is thy part,

And thine that latest sigh!

[In the Ode on a Scotch Bard, the author took a general farewell of the “bonie lasses—widows, wives an' a'," and here he singles out one in particular, from among "the belles of Mauchline," in whom he seems to have a more special interest. That he really had some of "his random fits ' daffin" with a young woman bearing this Christian name, is evident from a few words that dropped from him after his "eclatant return" from Edinburgh to Mauchline.

On 11th June 1787, in a letter to his friend James Smith, then at Linlithgow, he says "Your mother, sister, and brother; my quondam Eliza, &c., are all well." Chambers, from a variety of circumstances, came to the conclusion that this "Eliza" was the "braw Miss Betty" of the "six proper young belles," so distinguished by the poet in his canzonette. She was sister to Miss Helen Miller, the wife of Dr Mackenzie, and died shortly after being married to a Mr Templeton.]

A BARD'S EPITAPH.

Is there a whim-inspired 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,

And drap a tear.

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,

*bashful.

Here, heave a sigh.

+ submit tamely.

Is there a man, whose judgment clear
Can others teach the course to steer,
Yet runs, himself, life's mad career,
Wild as the wave,

Here pause-and, thro' the starting tear,
Survey this grave.

The poor inhabitant below

Was quick to learn and wise to know,

And keenly felt the friendly glow,

And softer flame;

But thoughtless follies laid him low,

And stain'd his name!

Reader, attend! whether thy soul
Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,

In low pursuit ;

Know, prudent, cautious, self-control
Is wisdom's root.

[The poet's labours to make up a volume of moderate thickness were drawing to a close; and, having bade farewell to "friends and foes," he had only now to compose his own Epitaph. The Elegy on himself, given previously, did not altogether satisfy him; so he tasked his muse, and produced what, with common consent, is allowed to be equally truthful, pathetic, and sublime.]

EPITAPH FOR ROBERT AIKEN, ESQ.

KNOW thou, O stranger to the fame
Of this much lov'd, much honoured name!
(For none that knew him need be told)

A warmer heart death ne'er made cold.

[Mr Aiken was the "orator Bob" of the ecclesiastical courts, in their proceedings against Gavin Hamilton, and against Dr M'Gill. To this gentleman, who was a life-long friend of the bard from the date of their first acquaintance, the "Cottar's Saturday Night" is dedicated. He survived the poet, till 24th March 1807.]