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 JOSIAH BURCHET, Esq
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 | The works of Allan Ramsay |  |
To JOSIAH BURCHET, Esq
Thirsting for Fame, at the Pierian Spring
The Poet takes a Waught, then seys to sing
Nature, and with the tentiest View to hit
Her bonny Side with bauldest Turns of Wit.
Streams slide in Verse, in Verse the Mountains rise,
When Earth turns toom he rummages the Skies,
Mounts up beyond them, paints the Fields of Rest,
Doups down to visit ilka laigh-land Ghaist.
O hartsome Labour! Wordy Time and Pains,
That, frae the Best, Esteem and Friendship gains.
Be that my Luck, and let the greedy Bike
Stock-job the Warld among them as they like.
The Poet takes a Waught, then seys to sing
Nature, and with the tentiest View to hit
Her bonny Side with bauldest Turns of Wit.
Streams slide in Verse, in Verse the Mountains rise,
When Earth turns toom he rummages the Skies,
Mounts up beyond them, paints the Fields of Rest,
Doups down to visit ilka laigh-land Ghaist.
O hartsome Labour! Wordy Time and Pains,
That, frae the Best, Esteem and Friendship gains.
Be that my Luck, and let the greedy Bike
Stock-job the Warld among them as they like.
114
In blyth braid Scots allow me, Sir, to shaw
My Gratitude, but Fleetching or a Flaw.
May Rowth o' Pleasures light upon ye lang,
Till to the blest Elysian Bowers ye gang;
Wha've clapt my Head sae brawly for my Sang.
When honour'd Burchet and his Maiks are pleas'd
With my Corn-pipe, up to the Starns I'm heez'd;
Whence far I glowr to the Fag-end of Time,
And view the Warld delighted wi' my Rhime.
That when the Pride of sprush new Words are laid,
I like the Classick Authors shall be read.
Stand yont proud Czar, I wadna niffer Fame
With thee, for a' thy Furrs and paughty Name.
My Gratitude, but Fleetching or a Flaw.
May Rowth o' Pleasures light upon ye lang,
Till to the blest Elysian Bowers ye gang;
Wha've clapt my Head sae brawly for my Sang.
When honour'd Burchet and his Maiks are pleas'd
With my Corn-pipe, up to the Starns I'm heez'd;
Whence far I glowr to the Fag-end of Time,
And view the Warld delighted wi' my Rhime.
That when the Pride of sprush new Words are laid,
I like the Classick Authors shall be read.
Stand yont proud Czar, I wadna niffer Fame
With thee, for a' thy Furrs and paughty Name.
If sic great Ferlies, Sir, my Muse can do,
As spin a three-plait Praise where it is due,
Frae me there's nane deserves it mair than you.
Frae me! Frae ilky ane; for sure a Breast
Sae gen'rous is of a' that's Good possest.
Till I can serve ye mair, I'll wish ye weell,
And aft in sparkling Claret drink your Heel:
Minding the Mem'ry of the Great and Good
Sweet Addison, the Wale of humane Blood,
Wha fell, (as Horace anes said to his Billy)
Nulli flebilior quam tibi Virgili.
As spin a three-plait Praise where it is due,
Frae me there's nane deserves it mair than you.
Frae me! Frae ilky ane; for sure a Breast
Sae gen'rous is of a' that's Good possest.
Till I can serve ye mair, I'll wish ye weell,
And aft in sparkling Claret drink your Heel:
Minding the Mem'ry of the Great and Good
Sweet Addison, the Wale of humane Blood,
Wha fell, (as Horace anes said to his Billy)
Nulli flebilior quam tibi Virgili.
SIR, Your's, &c. Al. Ramsay.
| The works of Allan Ramsay | |