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How is the greatest monarch bless'd, I can bleat, or I can sing good at
When in my gaudy liv'ry dress'd!

Like the warblers of the spring. Souvo
No haughty nymph has pow'r to run Let the love-sick bard complain,
From me, or my embraces shun.

And I mourn the cruel pain;
Stabb'd to the heart, condemn'd to flame, Let the happy swain rejoice,
My constancy is still the same.

And I join my helping voice;
The favourite messenger of Jove,

Both are welcome, grief or joy,
The Lemnian god, consulting, strove I with either sport and toy.
To make me glorious to the sight

Though a lady, I am stout,
Of mortals, and the gods' delight.20 Drums and trumpets bring me out ;
Soon would their
altars' fame expire Yuri Then I clash, and roar, and

rattle, If I refus'd to lend them fire.

Join in all the din of battle.

Jove, with all his loudest thunder, ab 161. On a Circle.

When I'm vex’d, can't keep me under ; I'm up and down, and round about,

Yet so tender is my ear, Yet all the world can't find me out.

That the lowest voice I fear. Though hundreds have employ'd their leisure, Much I dread the courtier's fate, They never yet could find my measure. When his merit 's out of date; I'm found almost in ev'ry garden,

For I hate a silent breath,
Nay, in the compass of a farthing.

And a whisper is my death.
There's neither chariot, coach, nor mill,
Can move an inch, except I will.

0 164. On a Shadow in a Glass.

By something form’d, I nothing am, $ 162. On the Five Senses. Yet every thing that you can name; All of us in one you'll find,

In no place have I ever been, Brethren of a wondrous kind;

Yet ev'ry where I may be seen; Yet, among us all, no brother Words In all things false, yet always true, Knows one tittle of the other. I'm still the same, but ever new. We in frequent councils are,

Lifeless, life's perfect form I wear, And our marks of things declare;

I Can show a nose, eye, tongue, or ear, Where, to us unknown, a clerk

Yet neither smell, see, taste, or hear. Sits, and takes them in the dark.

All shapes and features I can boast, He's the register of all

No flesh, no bones, no blood-no ghost

All colours, without paint, put on,
In our ken, both great and small;
By us forms his laws and rules;

And change like the chameleon. 010
He's our master, we his tools;

Swiftly I come and enter there Yet we can, with greatest ease,

Where not a chink lets in the air ; Turn and wind him where we please.

Like thought, I'm in a moment gone One of us alone can sleep,

Nor can I ever be alone; Yet no watch the rest will keep;

All things on earth I imitate

Faster than Nature can create; But, the moment that he closes,

MO Ev'ry brother else reposes.

Sometimes imperial robes I wear, If wine 's bought, or victuals dress’d,

Anon in beggar's rags appear; One enjoys them for the rest.

A giant now, and straight an elf, Pierce us all with wounding steel,

I'm ev'ry one, but ne'er myself; One for all of us will feel.

Ne'er sad, I mourn ; ne'er glad, rejoice, Though ten thousand cannons roar,

I move my lips, but want a voice; Add to them ten thousand more, som I ne'er was born, nor e'er can die : Yet but one of us is found

Then pr’ythee tell me, what am I? Who regards the dreadful

0 165. On Time. Do what is not fit tell, There 's but one of us can smell.

EVER eating, never cloying,

All devouring, all destroying ; 0 163. On an Echo.

Never finding full repast,

bon Till I eat the world at last. NEVER sleeping, still awake, a Pleasing most when most I speak:

9 166. On the Vowels. The delight of old and young,

We are little airy creatures,
Though I speak without a tongue : by All of diff'rent voice and features :
Nought but one thing can confound me, One of us in glass is set,
Many voices joining round me; Utos One of us you'll find in jet ;
Then I fret, and rave, and gabble,

T' other you may see in tin,
Like the laborers of Babel.

And the fourth a box within; How to it
Now I am a dog or cow, VH-UTA If the fifth you should pursue,
I can bark, or I can low;'l anywa w It can never

fly from you.

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$ 167. On Snow.

Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet, From heaven I fall, though from earth I be- To think how monie counsels sweet, gin;

How monie lengthen'd sage advices, No lady alive can shew such a skin.

The husband frae the wife despises ! I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,

But to our tale : Ae market night, But heavy and dark when you squeeze me to- Tam had got planted unco right, gether.

Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear, Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely; Yet many poor creatures I help to ensnare.

And at his elbow, souter Johnny, Though so much of heaven appears in my His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony. make,

Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither; The foulest impressions I easily take.

They had been fou for weeks thegither. My parent and I produce one another;

The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter; The mother the daughter, the daughter the And aye the ale was growing better : mother.

The landlady and Tam grew gracious,

Wi’ favours secret, sweet, and precious :
Ø 168. On a Cannon.

The souter tauld his queerest stories;
BEGOTTEN, and born, and dying, with noise, The landlord's laugh was ready chorus :
The terror of women, and pleasure of boys ; The storm without might rair and rustle,
Like the fiction of poets concerning the wind, Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.
I'm chiefly unruly when strongest confin'd. Care, mad to see a man sae happy,
For silver and gold I don't trouble my head,

E'en drown'd himself amang the nappy ; But all I delight in is pieces of lead;

As bees flee hame wi' lades of treasure, Except when I trade with a ship or a town,

The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure : Why then I make pieces of iron go down. Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, One property more I would have you remark, O'er a’ the ills o' life victorious. No lady was ever more fond of a spark; But pleasures are like poppies spread, The moment I get one, my soul's all afire, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; And I roar out my joy, and in transport expire. Or, like the snow falls in the river,

A moment white-then melts for ever: 169. Tam o' Shanter. A Tale. BURNS. Or, like the borealis race, Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke. That flit ere you can point their place;

Gawin Douglas.

Or, like the rainbow's lovely form,
WHEN chapman billies leave the street, Evanishing amid the storm.-
And dróuthy neebors neebors meet,

Nae man can tether time or tide;
As market-days are wearing late,

The hour approaches Tam maun ride; An' folk begin to tak the gate;

That hour, o' night's black arch the keyWhile we sit bousing at the nappy,

stane, An' getting fou and unco happy,

That dreary hour, he mounts his beast in; We think na on the lang Scots miles, And sic a night he taks the road in, The mosses, waters, slaps, and styles, As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in. That lie between us and our hame;

The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last; Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame,

The rattling show'rs rose on the blast; Gath'ring her brows like gath'ring storm, The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd; Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

Loud, deep, and lang, the thunder bellow'd : This truth fand honest Tam o' Sbanter, That night, a child might understand, As he frae Ayr ae night did canter,

The De’il had business on his hand. (Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses,

Weel mounted on his grey mare, Meg,For honest men and bonie lasses.)

A better never lifted leg, O Tam ! had'st thou but been sae wise, Tam skelpit on through dub and mire, As ta’en thy ain wife Kate's advice! Despising wind, and rain, and fire; She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum, Whyles holding fast his guid blue bonnet; A blethring, blustering, drunken blellum; Whyles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet; That, frae November till October,

Whyles glow'ring round wi' prudent cares, Ae market-day thou was na sober;

Lest bogles catch him unawares;
That ilk'a melder, wi' the miller,

Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh,
Thou sat as long as thou had siller; Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry.
That ev'ry naig was ca'd a shoe on,

By this time he was cross the ford,
The smith and thee gat roaring fou on; Whare in the snaw the chapman smoor'd;
That at the L-d's house, ev'n on Sunday, And past the birks and meikle stane,
Thou drank wi' Kirton Jean till Monday. Whare drunken Charlie brak's neck bane;
She prophesy'd, that, late or soon,

And through the whins, and by the cairn, Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon; Whare hunters fand the murder'd bairn; Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk,

And near the thorn, aboon the well, By Alloway's auld haunted kirk.

Whare Mungo's mither hang'd hersel. VOL. vi. Nos. 91 & 92.

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Before him Doon pours all his floods ; | Lowping an' flinging on a cummock,
The doubling storm roars through the woods ; I wonder didna turn thy stomach.
T'he lightnings flash from pole to pole;

But Tam kenn'd what was what fu' brawlie
Near and more near the thunders roll; There was ae winsome wench and walie,
When, glimmering through the groaning trees, That night enlisted in the core,
Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze;

(Lang after kennd on Carrick shore !
Through ilka bore the beams were glancing; For monie a beast to dead she shot,
And loud resounded mirth and dancing. And perish'd monie a bonie boat,
Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn!

And shook baith meikle corn and beer,
What dangers thou canst make us scorn! And kept the country-side in fear,).
Wi’ tippenny, we fear nae evil;

Her cutty-sark o' Paisley harn,
Wi’ usquabae, we'll face the Devil !

That while a lassie she had worn,
The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle, In longitude though sorely scanty,
Fair play, he car'd na De’il's a boddle. It was her best, and she was vauntie.
But Maggie stood right sair astonishid, Ah! little kennd thy reverend grannie,
Till, by the heel and hand admonish'd, That sark she coft for her wee Nannie,
She ventur'd forward on the light;

Wi’twa pund Scots; ('twas a' her riches) And, vow! Tam saw an unco sight!

Wad ever grac'd a dance o' witches ! Warlocks and witches in a dance;

But here my Muse her wing maun cow'r ; Nae cotillion brent new frae France,

Sic flights are far beyond her pow'r! But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys and reels, To sing how Nannie lap and flang, Put life and mettle in their heels.

(A souple jad she was and strang,) A winnock-bunker in the east,

And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd, There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast; And thought his very een enrich'd : A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, Even Satan glowr’d, and fidg'd fu' fain, To gie them music was his charge : '

And hotch'd, and blew wi' might and main : He screw'd the pipes, and gart them skirl, Till first ae caper, syne anither, Till roof an' rafters a' did dirl.

Tam tint his reason a' thegither, Coffins stood round like open presses,

And roars out, “ Weel done, Cutty-sark!" That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses ;

And in an instant a' was dark :
And, by some devilish cantrip slight, And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,
Each in its cauld hand held a light, When out the hellish legion sallied.
By which heroic Tam was able

As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke,
To note upon the haly table,

When plundering herds assail their byke; A murderer's banes in gibbet airns ;

As open pussie's mortal foes, Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns ; When, pop! she starts before their nose; A thief, new cụtted frae a rape,

As eager runs the market-crowd, Wi’ his last gasp his gab did gape;

When“ Catch the thief !” resounds aloud ; Five tomabawks, wi' bluid red-rusted; So Maggie runs,

the witches follow, Five cimeters, wi' murder crusted;

Wi’ monie an eldritch skreech and hollow. A garter, which a babe had strangled;

Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin. A knife, a father's throat had mangled, In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin! Whom his ain son o' life bereft,

In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin! The grey hairs yet stack to the heft;

Kate soon will be a wofu' woman! Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu',

Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, Which ev'n to name wad be unlawfu'. And win the key-stane of the brig; As Tammie glowr'd, amaz’d and curious,

There at them thou thy tail may toss, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious :

A running stream they dare na cross. The piper loud and louder blew;

But ere the key-stane she could make, The dancers quick and quicker flew;

The fient a tail she had to shake! They reeld, they set, they crossid, they cleckit, For Nannie, far before the rest, Till ilka carlin swat and reekit,

Hard upon noble Maggie press'd, And coost her duddies to the wark,

And flew at Tam wi’ furious ettle ; And linket at it in her sark!

But little wist she Maggie's mettleNow Tam, 0 Tam! had they been queans, Ae spring brought aff her master hale, A' plump and strapping in their teens ;

But left behind her ain grey tail : Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen,

The carlin claught her by the rump, Been snaw-white seventeen hunder linen!

And left poor Maggie scarce a stump. Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair,

Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read,
That ance were plush, o' guid blue hair, Ilk man and mother's son take heed :
I wad hae gi’en them aff my hurdies, Whene'er to drink you are inelin'd,
For ae blink o' the bonie burdies !

Or Cutty-sarks run in your mind,
But wither'd beldams, auld and droll, Think, ye may buy the joys o'er dear,
Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal,

Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.

And, for the industry he has spent upon't, 170. Satire upon the Abuse of Human

Must, full as much, some other way discount. Learning. BUTLER.

The Hebrew, Chaldee, and the Syriac, It is the noblest act of human reason Do, like their letters, set men's reason back, To free itself from slavish prepossession, And turn their wits that strive to understand it Assume the legal right to disengage

(Like those that write the characters) leftFrom all it had contracted under age,

handed; And not its ingenuity and wit

Yet he that is but able to express To all it was imbued with first submit; No sense at all in several languages, Take true or false for better or for worse, Will pass for learneder than he that's known To havé or t’hold indifferently of course. To speak the strongest reason in his own.

For Custom, though but usher of the school These are the modern arts of education, Where Nature breeds the body and the soul, With all the learned of mankind in fashion, Usurps a greater pow'r and interest

But practised only with the rod and whip, O'er man, the heir of Reason, than brute beast, As riding schools inculcate horsemanship, That by two different instincts is led, Or Romish penitents let out their skins Born to the one, and to the other bred, To bear the penalties of others' sins, And trains him up with rudiments more false When letters at the first were meant for play, Than Nature does her stupid animals; And only us’d to pass the time away, [name And that's one reason why more care's be- When th' ancient Greeks and Romans had no stow'd

T'express a school and playhouse but the same, Upon the body than the soul's allow'd, And in their languages, so long agone, That is not found to understand and know To study or be idle was all one; So subtly as the body's found to grow. For nothing more preserves men in their wits Though children, without study, pains, or Than giving of them leave to play by fits, thought,

In dreams to sport and ramble with all fancies, Are languages and vulgar notions taught, And, waking, little less extravagances, Improve their nat'ral talents without care, To rest and recreation of tir'd thought, And apprehend before they are aware,

When 'tis run down with care and overwrought, Yet, as all strangers never leave the tones Of which whoever does not freely take They have been used of children to pronounce, His constant share, is never broad awake, So most men's reason never can outgrow

And when he wants an equal competence The discipline it first received to know, Of both recruits, abates as much of sense. But renders words they first began to con,

Nor is their education worse design'd The end of all that's after to be known, Than Nature (in her province) proves unkind : And sets the help of education back, The greatest inclinations with the least Worse than, without it, man could ever lack ; Capacities are fatally possessid, (pains, Who, therefore, finds the artificial’st fools, Condemn'd to drudge, and labour, and take Have not been changed i’ th' cradle, but the Without an equal competence of brains ; schools,

While those she has indulg'd in soul and body, Where error, pedantry, and affectation, Are most averse to industry and study, Run them behind-hand with their education, And th' activ'st fancies share as loose-alloys, And all alike are taught poetic rage,

For want of equal weight to counterpoise. When hardly one's fit for it in an age. But when those great conveniences meet,

· No sooner are the organs of the brain Of equal judgment, industry, and wit,
Quick to receive, and steadfast to retain The one but strives the other to divert,
Best 'knowledges, but all's laid out upon While Fate and Custom in the feud take part,
Retrieving of the curse of Babylon,

And scholars, by prepost'rous overdoing, To make confounded languages restore And under-judging, all their projects ruin; A greater drudg’ry than it barr'd before ::

Who, though the understanding of mankind And therefore those imported from the East, Within so strait a compass is confin'd, Where first they were incurr'd,are held the best, Disdain the limits Nature sets to bound Although conveyed in worse Arabian pothooks The wit of man, and vainly rove beyond. Than gifted tradesmen scratch in sermon note- The bravest soldiers scorn until they're got

Close to the enemy to make a shot; Are really but pains and labor lost,

Yet great philosophers delight to stretch And not worth half the drudgery they cost; Their talents most at things beyond their reach, Unless, like rarities, as they've been brought And proudly think t' unriddle ev'ry cause From foreign climates, and as dearly bought, That Nature uses by their own by-laws; When those, who had no other but their own, When 'tis not only impertinent, but rude, Have all succeeding eloquence outdone ; Where she denies admission, to intrude; As men that wink with one eye see more true, And all their industry is but to err, And take their aim much better than with two: Unless they have free quarantine from her; For the more languages a man can speak, Whence 'tis the world the less has understood, His talent has but sprung the greater leak; By striving to know more than 'tis allow'd.


For Adam, with the loss of Paradise, And, by so mean, contemptible a bribe,
Bought knowledge at too desperate a price, Trepann’d the suffrages of ev'ry tribe;
And, ever since that miserable fate,

So learned men, by authors' names unknown
Learning did never cost an easier rate; Have gain'd no small improvement to their own
For though the most divine and sov’reign good And he's esteem'd the learned'st of all others
That Nature has upon mankind bestow'd, That has the largest catalogue of authors.
Yet it has prov'd a greater hinderance
To th’interest of truth than ignorance, $ 171. Opening of the Vision of Columbus.
And therefore never bore so high a value

As when 'twas low, contemptible, and shallow; I sing the Mariner who first unfurlid
Had academies, schools, and colleges, An eastern banner o'er the western world,
Endow'd for its improvement and increase; And taught mankind where future empires lay
With pomp and show was introduc'd with In these fair confines of descending day.;

Who sway'd a moment, with vicarious power,
More than a Roman magistrate had fasces; Iberia's sceptre on the new-found shore;
Empower'd with statute privilege,and mandate, Then saw the paths his virtuous steps had trod
T assume an art, and after understand it; Pursued by avarice and defil'd with blood,
Like bills of store for taking a degree, The tribes he foster'd with paternal toil
With all the learning to it custom-free; Snatch'd from his hand, and slaughter'd for
And own professions which they never took

their spoil.
So much delight in as to read one book : Slaves, kings, adventurers, envious of his name,
Like princes, had prerogative to give Enjoy'd his labors, and purloin'd his fame,
Convicted malefactors a reprieve;

And gave the Viceroy, from his high seat hurld,
And, having but a little paltry wit

Chains for a crown, a prison for a world!
More than the world, reduced and governed it. Long overwhelm'd in woes, and sick’ning
But scorn'd as soon as 'twas but understood, there,
As better is a spiteful foe to good,

He met the slow, still march of black despair,
And now has nothing left for its support, Sought the last refuge from his hopeless doom,
But what the darkest times provided for't. And wish'd from thankless men a peaceful tomb:

Man has a natural desire to know; Till vision'd ages, op'ning on his eyes,
But th' one half is for inter’st, th' other show: Cheer'd his sad soul, and bade new nations rise;
As scriv'ners take more pains to learn the He saw the Atlantic heaven with light o'ercast,

And freedom crown his glorious work at last.
Of making knots, than all the hands they write : Almighty Freedom! give my vent'rous song
So all his study is not to extend

The force, the charm, that to thy voice belong ,
The bounds of knowledge, but some vainer "Tis thine to shape my course, to light my way,

To nerve my country with the patriot lay,
T'appear and pass for learned, though his claim To teach all men where all their int'rest lies,
Will hardly reach beyond the empty name: How rulers may be just, and nations wise :
For most of those that drudge and labor hard, Strong in thy strength, I bend no suppliant knee,
Furnish their understandings by the yard, Invoke no miracle, no Muse, but thee.
As a French library by the whole is,

Night held on old Castile her silent reign,
So much an ell for quartos and for folios; Her half-orbid moon declining to the main ;
To which they are but indexes themselves, O’er Valladolid's regal turrets haz'd
And understand no further than the shelves; The drizzly fogs from dull Pisuerga rais’d;
But smatter with their titles and editions, Whose hov’ring sheets, along the welkin driven,
And place them in their classical partitions; Thinn’d the pale stars, and shut the eye from
When all a student knows of what he reads

Is not in 's own, but under general heads Cold-hearted Ferdinand his pillow press'd,
Of common-places, not in his own pow'r, Nor dream'd of those his mandates robbid of
But, like a Dutchman's money, in the cantore;

[his reign
Where all he can make of it at the best, Of him who gemm'd his crown, who stretch'd
Is hardly three per cent. for interest; To realms that weigh'd the tenfold poise of
And whether he will ever get it out

Spain; Into his own possession is a doubt :

Who now beneath his tower indungeon'd lies, Affects all books of past and modern ages, Sweats the chill sod, and breathes inclement But reads no further than their title-pages,


Only to con the authors' names by rote, His fev'rish pulse, slow lab'ring through his
Or, at the best, those of the books they quote; Feeds with scant force its fast expiring Hame;
Enough to challenge intimate acquaintance A far, dim watch-lamp's thrice reflected beam
With all the learned moderns and the ancients. Throws through his grates a mist-encumber'd
As Roman noblemen were wont to greet

And compliment the rabble in the street, Paints theʼdun vapors that the cell invade,
Had nomenclators in their trains, to claim And fills with spectred forms the midnigh
Acquaintance with the meanest, by his name,





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