The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
I. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
II. |
III. |
III. |
II. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
III. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
X. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
II. |
1. |
TO DOCTOR BOSWELL With the Two Vols. of my Poems. |
2. |
IV. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
The works of Allan Ramsay | ||
TO DOCTOR BOSWELL With the Two Vols. of my Poems.
These are the flowings from my Quill,
when in my youthful days
I scamper'd o'er the Muses' Hill,
and panted after praise.
when in my youthful days
I scamper'd o'er the Muses' Hill,
and panted after praise.
Ambitious to appear in print,
my Labour was delyte,
Regardless of the envious Squint,
or growling Critick's Spite.
my Labour was delyte,
Regardless of the envious Squint,
or growling Critick's Spite.
While those of the best Taste and Sence
indulg'd my native fire,
It bleezed by their benevolence,
and heaved my genius higher.
indulg'd my native fire,
It bleezed by their benevolence,
and heaved my genius higher.
260
Dear Doctor Boswell, such were they,
resembled much by you,
Whose favours were the genial ray
by which to fame I grew.
resembled much by you,
Whose favours were the genial ray
by which to fame I grew.
From my first setting out in Rhime,
near fourty years have wheeld,
Like Israel's Sons, so long a Time
through fancy's wiles I've reeld.
near fourty years have wheeld,
Like Israel's Sons, so long a Time
through fancy's wiles I've reeld.
May powers propitious by me stand,
since it is all my claim,
As they enjoyed their promised land,
may I my promised fame.
since it is all my claim,
As they enjoyed their promised land,
may I my promised fame.
While Blythness then on health attends,
and love on Beauty's young,
My merry Tales shall have their friends,
and Sonnets shall be sung.
and love on Beauty's young,
My merry Tales shall have their friends,
and Sonnets shall be sung.
Sir, your humble Servant, Allan Ramsay
From my Bower on the Castle Bank of Edinburgh, March the 10th, 1747.
The works of Allan Ramsay | ||