The works of Alexander Pennecuik of New-Hall, M.D.; containing the description of Tweeddale, and miscellaneous poems. A new edition, with copious notes, forming a complete history of the county to the present time. To which are prefixed, memoirs of Dr Pennecuik, and a map of the shire of Peebles, or Tweeddale |
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ELEGY UPON THE SUPPOSED DEATH OF JONAS HAMILTON OF COLDCOAT,
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 | The works of Alexander Pennecuik |  |
ELEGY UPON THE SUPPOSED DEATH OF JONAS HAMILTON OF COLDCOAT,
AT THE DESIRE OF A PERSON OF QUALITY.
Kind Cowie, our delight, our only one,The best of comrades, is dead and gone;
Fy on the Lachesis that had not spun
His thread of life for centuries to come;
The rich, the poor, the young, the old, and all
That e'er knew Cowie, do lament his fall.
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And women for his natural parts admired him;
He was conspicuous for a comely grace,
A royal nose on a mulatto face.
Though in his youth, as fame most loudly speaks,
Both Lancaster and York shined in his cheeks,
Pure red and white, but that the son of new,
Dy'd bonny Jonas of the gypsy hue;
His hair at twenty was like threads of gold,
At thirty black, like snow when he grew old.
Valiant he was, at Worcester fight and town,
Where with much bravery he threw severals down,
Who were not slain, but pleased with his pranks
Rose up again, and gave kind Cowie thanks.
O, Nature, reconcile him if you can,
A debauchee, and yet a sober man.
Riches he scorned, yet knew not what was want,
A bawdy sinner, yet a harmless saint;
Drink, swear, and kiss, he could, yea pious be,
And, Proteus like, suit with all company.
His doughty deeds no tongue can better tell
Than Thomson, Braidfoot, and sweet Nanny Fell;
Who to her praises this is not the least,
That Cringilty once suck'd her wanton breast.
No less for Bacchus shall kind Colcoat's name
Be mustered in the registers of fame;
For all that bragged him still the battle lost,
Ask Hawthorn, and strong Dalhousie's ghost.
But all these rare endowments, and his worth,
The Session-book of Newlands can set forth,
Where he was ruling elder, and with vigour
Trac'd all the steps of Presbyterian rigour .
Heaven hath him now, which he expected never,
And to his patrons bids adieu for ever.
| The works of Alexander Pennecuik | |