Part 121

Like harmony her motion, Her pretty ankle is a spy, Betraying fair proportion, Wad make a saint forget the sky: Sae warming, sae charming, Her faultless form and gracefu’ air; Ilk feature—auld Nature Declar’d that she could do nae mair: Hers are the willing chains o’ love, By conquering Beauty’s sovereign law; And still my Chloris’ dearest charm— She says, she lo’es me best of a’.

Let others love the city, And gaudy show, at sunny noon; Gie me the lonely valley, The dewy eve and rising moon, Fair beaming, and streaming, Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling; recalling, The amorous thrush concludes his sang; There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove, By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o’ truth and love, And say, thou lo’es me best of a’.

To Dr. Maxwell

On Miss Jessy Staig’s recovery.

Maxwell, if merit here you crave, That merit I deny; You save fair Jessie from the grave!— An Angel could not die!

To The Beautiful Miss Eliza J—N

On her Principles of Liberty and Equality.

How, Liberty! girl, can it be by thee nam’d? Equality too! hussey, art not asham’d? Free and Equal indeed, while mankind thou enchainest, And over their hearts a proud Despot so reignest.

On Chloris

Requesting me to give her a Spring of Blossomed Thorn.

From the white-blossom’d sloe my dear Chloris requested A sprig, her fair breast to adorn: No, by Heavens! I exclaim’d, let me perish, if ever I plant in that bosom a thorn!

On Seeing Mrs. Kemble In Yarico

Kemble, thou cur’st my unbelief For Moses and his rod; At Yarico’s sweet nor of grief The rock with tears had flow’d.

Epigram On A Country Laird,

not quite so wise as Solomon.

Bless Jesus Christ, O Cardonessp, With grateful, lifted eyes, Who taught that not the soul alone, But body too shall rise; For had He said “the soul alone From death I will deliver,” Alas, alas! O Cardoness, Then hadst thou lain for ever.

On Being Shewn A Beautiful Country Seat

Belonging to the same Laird.

We grant they’re thine, those beauties all, So lovely in our eye; Keep them, thou eunuch, Cardoness, For others to enjoy!

On Hearing It Asserted Falsehood

is expressed in the Rev. Dr. Babington’s very looks.

That there is a falsehood in his looks, I must and will deny: They tell their Master is a knave, And sure they do not lie.

On A Suicide

Earth’d up, here lies an imp o’ hell, Planted by Satan’s dibble; Poor silly wretch, he’s damned himsel’, To save the Lord the trouble.

On A Swearing Coxcomb

Here cursing, swearing Burton lies, A buck, a beau, or “Dem my eyes!” Who in his life did little good, And his last words were “Dem my blood!”

On An Innkeeper Nicknamed “The Marquis”

Here lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm’d, If ever he rise, it will be to be damn’d.