The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
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 | The works of Allan Ramsay |  |
THE ADDRESS
My Generous Patrons, who have lang
Approven of my merry Sang
Smiled at my tale and own I write
The Pastoral that gives delyte,
And that my Native Muse is able
For comick epigram and fable.
The higher strains I darena brag
Afraid in this I should prove lag,
Yet since in other lays I please
Thanks to Appolo, I'm at ease.
And will not Blush while I demand
Assistance from your helping hand
When I design, with tenty speed,
Fairly to print, that you may read,
The seven-years labours of my head.
Approven of my merry Sang
Smiled at my tale and own I write
The Pastoral that gives delyte,
And that my Native Muse is able
For comick epigram and fable.
The higher strains I darena brag
Afraid in this I should prove lag,
Yet since in other lays I please
Thanks to Appolo, I'm at ease.
And will not Blush while I demand
Assistance from your helping hand
When I design, with tenty speed,
Fairly to print, that you may read,
The seven-years labours of my head.
While to my Patrons thus I pray,
Methinks I hear 'S[?]abella say,
“Cheer up, blyth Bard, nor cease to sing;
Nae critick sour shall clip thy wing:
I, with a thousand Beautys mae
Shall shield thee frae ilk surly fae.
We'll keep thy cottage tight and bein,
Thy pot in play, thy owerlay clean,
And slip into thy purse some store,
To breed thy son and daughters four
Please us, the Powers of Love and we
Will take peculiar care of thee.”
Methinks I hear 'S[?]abella say,
“Cheer up, blyth Bard, nor cease to sing;
Nae critick sour shall clip thy wing:
I, with a thousand Beautys mae
Shall shield thee frae ilk surly fae.
We'll keep thy cottage tight and bein,
Thy pot in play, thy owerlay clean,
217
To breed thy son and daughters four
Please us, the Powers of Love and we
Will take peculiar care of thee.”
Ye Glorys of the British Isle,
As long as I enjoy your smile,
My cares shall vanish like a dream
Or mist that hovers o'er the stream,
Till Phoebus, with a bleez of day,
Forbids the damp t'oppose his ray.
'Twas [my?] study and my Pride
To have the fair upon my side,
And while you thus indulgent shine,
My gratitude shall ne'er decline.
As long as I enjoy your smile,
My cares shall vanish like a dream
Or mist that hovers o'er the stream,
Till Phoebus, with a bleez of day,
Forbids the damp t'oppose his ray.
'Twas [my?] study and my Pride
To have the fair upon my side,
And while you thus indulgent shine,
My gratitude shall ne'er decline.
“Fleech on,” cries N[?]abal, brag or pet
But de'il ye (one) doit frae me ye'se get.
Ye've gotten mair than your deserving,
While mony a better Rhymer's sterving
As ye should a, baith gude and ill,
With my consent, had I my will.
Gie glancing gowd for wicked rhymes?
O wicked fashions! wicked times!
Gie poets cash!—gie them the woody,
Swith to a garret, poor and duddy,
Till hunger has your bulk refined,
For the enlargement of your mind.
But de'il ye (one) doit frae me ye'se get.
Ye've gotten mair than your deserving,
While mony a better Rhymer's sterving
As ye should a, baith gude and ill,
With my consent, had I my will.
Gie glancing gowd for wicked rhymes?
O wicked fashions! wicked times!
Gie poets cash!—gie them the woody,
Swith to a garret, poor and duddy,
Till hunger has your bulk refined,
For the enlargement of your mind.
| The works of Allan Ramsay | |