"And o'er our death-accuftom'd arms They gied a fhout, their bows they tuik, A cry the weeping Mary gied: For in the midst anon there came That glanc'd frae off her Duncan's targe, A while fhe stagger'd, fyne fhe fell, The fpear he meant at faes to fling, His lips, half open, cou'd na' fpeak: Sae the black stump of fome auld aik, Seems to the traveller like a man, * * Caetera defunt. THE THE WHY COBLER. HY fhould the mufe in high ambitious verfe Sing the ftern warrior, and the bloody plain? Why not the praise of industry rehearse, Its heart-felt pleasure, and laborious pain? In a fmall corner of yon narrow lane An humble habitation may you fee; Its lonely window boafts no chrystal pane: O free from taxes may it ever be! [fee. Afk you who dwells within? why then step in and There lives a lowly wight, unknown to fame, Of doubtless merit he, howe'er obfcure; That artist fly, whom we a Cobler name, For ever chearful, and for ever poor. Far from the precincts of his peaceful door Vexatious riches fly, and wafting forrow; To-day is his; that he enjoys fecure; And to the care of heaven commits to-morrow: Nor aught has he to lend, nor aught can think to borrow. He with the dawning of the early morn, What time the loud-pip'd cock unceasing crows, Brifk as the hunter at the founding horn, Starts up in hafte, and to his cell he goes: Mid the keen piercing air his vifage glows. Is there no brandy then at my command? Ah! fpare, ye biting frofts, his Helpless toes; Nor mar the useful labours of his hand, Elfe muft my naked fect unwilling print the fand. He He rubs his hands a while, and down he fits; Be it a heel, or fhould a feam be flit, 'Tis night; I fee his dimly-glimm'ring lamp; What doft thou mean, thou rash mischievous boy? But now the labour of the day is done; So So home he hies him, freely to difburse He thanks kind heaven that made his lot no worfe; Q ORTHODOX ADVICE. UOTH John to his teacher, good Sir, if please, you I wou'd beg your advice in a difficult cafe; 'Tis a weighty concern, that may hold one for life, "Tis, in fhort, the old ftory of taking a wife. [marry, There's a pair of young damfels I'm proffer'd to And whether to chufe puts me in a quandary : Alike they're in age, family, fortune, and feature, Only one has more grace, and the other good-nature. As for that, fays the teacher, good-nature and love, And sweetness of temper, are gifts from above; And, as coming from thence, we fhould give 'em their due; Grace is a fuperior bleffing, 'tis true. Ay, Sir, I remember an excellent ferment, Wherein all along you gave grace the preferment. I'll never forget it; as how you were telling, That heaven refided where grace had its dwelling. " Why John, quoth the teacher,that's true: But, alas! What heaven can do is quite out of the cafe; For, by day and by night, with the woman you wed, 'Tis you that muft board, and 'tis you that muft bed; And a good-natur'd girl may quickly grow gracious, But a four-headed faint will be ever vexatious. MADNESS MADNESS. WELL the clarion, fweep the string, Let wood and dale, let rock and valley ring, Hail, awful Madness, hail! Thy realm extends, thy powers prevail, to the astonish'd ear The gale conveys a strange tumultuous found. Pride Ambition idly vain, Loud the fhouts of Madness rise, Сс Rough |