The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
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TO THE MEMORY OF MARY, DUCHESS DOWAGER OF BEAUFORT AND COUNTESS DOWAGER OF DUNDONALD |
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The works of Allan Ramsay | ||
TO THE MEMORY OF MARY, DUCHESS DOWAGER OF BEAUFORT AND COUNTESS DOWAGER OF DUNDONALD
with Daring flight the Scotian Muse essays
t'imortallize a Lovely princes[s'] praise
Great Osburns Race her saftest Lays demand
wha Love their Brave Ansestors' native Land
Nor will Carmarthan deem our sorow Less
Altho we shed our Tears in Rural dress
even Mighty Maro, who Best sang of Wier
with shepherds Lays could please Augustus' ear
Allow us then My Lord to pay what's Due
To Beauty, virtue, greatnes, Love, and You
frae Ospurn sprung wha stood his monarchs stoop
when Majesty was Basely made to droop
But when the Black Rebelious night was oer
he shone with greater splendor than Before
The Consort of high Beaufort craves our Strains
Beaufort who Drew his Blood from Royal Viens
Dundonald worthy patriot! ah! oer soon
thou Left a Heaven Below for that aboon.
but Destiny hard hearted never spears
thy darling scars(e) tents her tender tears,
Love Magnif[i]es her Loss she's paind to be
Earths joys grow mean—she droops she hasts to thee
The Noble Brother finds his heart to ake
The sudden Loss does all his pleasures shake
striving my Lord to bring you some Relife
A humble Bard would paint a Naitons grief
Belinda's Dead!—the Murning Maya Crys
while Gushing Streams flow from her sparking eyes
Belind[a']s Dead!—Liza with sighs Replys
May
t'imortallize a Lovely princes[s'] praise
Great Osburns Race her saftest Lays demand
wha Love their Brave Ansestors' native Land
Nor will Carmarthan deem our sorow Less
Altho we shed our Tears in Rural dress
even Mighty Maro, who Best sang of Wier
with shepherds Lays could please Augustus' ear
Allow us then My Lord to pay what's Due
To Beauty, virtue, greatnes, Love, and You
165
when Majesty was Basely made to droop
But when the Black Rebelious night was oer
he shone with greater splendor than Before
The Consort of high Beaufort craves our Strains
Beaufort who Drew his Blood from Royal Viens
Dundonald worthy patriot! ah! oer soon
thou Left a Heaven Below for that aboon.
but Destiny hard hearted never spears
thy darling scars(e) tents her tender tears,
Love Magnif[i]es her Loss she's paind to be
Earths joys grow mean—she droops she hasts to thee
The Noble Brother finds his heart to ake
The sudden Loss does all his pleasures shake
striving my Lord to bring you some Relife
A humble Bard would paint a Naitons grief
Belinda's Dead!—the Murning Maya Crys
while Gushing Streams flow from her sparking eyes
Belind[a']s Dead!—Liza with sighs Replys
Bauld are [the] Blasts that Blaw oer yonder hight
Short . . . and Langs the dreery Night
Yet nights and days I'd thole the Wind and rain
coud that bring Back Belindas Breath again
Short . . . and Langs the dreery Night
Yet nights and days I'd thole the Wind and rain
coud that bring Back Belindas Breath again
Lizie
Cauld is the Snaw that Cleads the Clinty Cleugh
Hard is the Ice that Hings out oer the Heugh
yet Barefut Wad I wade throw mony a wreath
Could that Bring Back the Lovd Belinda's breath
Hard is the Ice that Hings out oer the Heugh
yet Barefut Wad I wade throw mony a wreath
Could that Bring Back the Lovd Belinda's breath
Young Colin darnd behind a Ruck of Wheat
with melting heart oerhard the Lasses Greet
he felt their pain, but of more strength possest
forbad his Tears—and thus the Maids adrest
with melting heart oerhard the Lasses Greet
he felt their pain, but of more strength possest
forbad his Tears—and thus the Maids adrest
166
Dear Lasses just is ilka tear ye shed
for her whas Bounty made us aft fou glad
whase sweetness wan the hearts of Great & Sma
while her strick virtues gart us stand in aw
sae at Sun whase chearing Beams we find
we darna Glowr for fear he make us Blind
But Lear to be content and thole yer pain
for we can neer behad her face again
Maya
'tis unco Easy to hardhearted men
to meet with Tinsell & neer let fouk ken
while we of safter minds sigh mony a day
or we can get the uperhand of wae
as Lang's I see a Lady sweet and fair
with keuly looks mix'd with a princly air
if sic there be with grief I'll ca to mind
the Blest Belinda Best of a' her kind
Lizi
when E'er I trade alang the Bony Green
where she at Ilka dance was chosen Queen
or by yon Burn where on the floury Brae
we usd to sport and see the Fishes play
a Thousand thoughts of her and Time that's gane
will sink my saul wi grief and ay renew my pain
May
now Day grows Langer and the welcome Spring
comes on apace the Birds begin to sing
the primrose Buds the Gowan knots appear
with a' the rising Beautys of the year
167
can joy restore or mitigate my Care
Belinda's Death ay in my mind will ring
and sour the saftest sweetness of the spring
Lizi
and Cease ye Lambs to Bleet—cease faling dews
Cease streams to murmur, Echo to repeat
Yes weep ye flock aloud that hills may hear
Be ilka chrystall pearl of Dew a tear
for dear Belinda streams for ever Murn
for her let Echo sigh[i]ng sad return
the Dolefu Tale—while we with grief relate
her goodnes[s] Beauty and oer hasty fate
Colin
But now frae ilka fear of Greef shes free
and tastes the fruit of th'Imortall Tree
But mind she's freed frae a' our cares & strife
and born aboon where endles joys are rife
wher never enters sorrow sighs or pain
sae for her Loss ye Greetna but your ain
May
Ah hasty Death to pou her in her prime
when eild it sell is but sae scrimp a time
Thousands there are less usefou here beneath
we could have spared for her and wi Lesser Skaith
her words were musick and her deeds wer kind
fair was [her] frame and generous was her mind
nae spitefou passion e'er coud find [a] place
within her Brest or Cloud her Lovely face
Descended frae a Chief yet free frae pride
she did with meekness a' her actions Guide
168
not siller showers in drouth mair kindly fa
than wer her welcome favour to us a'
[Colin]
nor is my heart nae mair than yours of steel
yes I our tinsell as severly feell
But stranger Reason comes to take my part
while you less Guarded sink beneath the smart
then dry ye'r Cheeks—and learn ye to Behave
ye'r sells like her then shall your virtues crave
Love in your Life and honour in your Grave
The works of Allan Ramsay | ||