The works of Allan Ramsay :: :: University of Virginia Library

Thy last Oration orthodox,
Thy innocent auldfarren Jokes,
And sonsie Saw of Three provokes
Me anes again,
Tod Lowrie like , to loose my Pocks,
And pump my Brain.

By a' your Letters I ha'e red,
I eithly scan the Man well bred,
And Soger that where Honour led,
Has ventur'd bauld;
Wha now to Youngsters leaves the Yed
To 'tend his Fald.

That Bang'ster Billy Cæsar July,
Wha at Pharsalia wan the Tooly,
Had better sped, had he mair hooly
Scamper'd thro' Life,
And 'midst his Glories sheath'd his Gooly,
And kiss'd his Wife.

132

Had he like you, as well he cou'd,
Upon Burn Banks the Muses woo'd,
Retir'd betimes frae 'mang the Crowd,
Wha'd been aboon him?
The Senate's Durks, and Faction loud,
Had ne'er undone him.

Yet sometimes leave the Riggs and Bog,
Your Howms, and Braes, and shady Scrog,
And helm-a-lee the Claret cog,
To clear your Wit:
Be blyth, and let the Warld e'en shog,
As it thinks fit.

Ne'er fash about your neist Year's State,
Nor with superior Powers debate,
Nor Cantrapes cast to ken your Fate;
There's Ills anew
To cram our Days, which soon grow late;
Let's live just now.

When Northern Blasts the Ocean snurl,
And gars the Heights and Hows look gurl,
Then left about the Bumper whirl,
And toom the Horn,
Grip fast the Hours which hasty hurl,
The Morn's the Morn.

Thus to Leuconoe sang sweet Flaccus,
Wha nane e'er thought a Gillygacus:
And why should we let Whimsies bawk us,
When Joy's in Season,
And thole sae aft the Spleen to whauk us
Out of our Reason?

133

Tho I were Laird of Tenscore Acres,
Nodding to Jouks of Hallenshakers,
Yet crush'd wi' Humdrums, which the Weaker's
Contentment ruines,
I'd rather roost wi' Causey-Rakers,
And sup cauld Sowens.

I think, my Friend, an Fowk can get
A Doll of rost Beef pypin het,
And wi' red Wine their Wyson wet,
And Cleathing clean,
And be nae sick, or drown'd in Debt,
They're no to mean.

I red this Verse to my ain Kimmer,
Wha kens I like a Leg of Gimmer,
Or sic and sic good Belly Timmer;
Quoth she, and leugh,
“Sicker of thae Winter and Simmer,
“Ye're well enough.

My hearty Goss, there is nae Help,
But Hand to Nive we twa maun skelp
Up Rhine and Thames, and o'er the Alp-
pines and Pyrenians,
The chearfou Carles do sae yelp
To ha'e 's their Minions.

134

Thy raffan rural Rhyme sae rare,
Sic wordy, wanton, hand-wail'd Ware,
Sae gash and gay, gars Fowk gae gare
To ha'e them by them;
Tho gaffin they wi' Sides sae sair,
Cry,—“Wae gae by him!

Fair fa that Sodger did invent
To ease the Poets Toil wi' Print:
Now, William, wi' maun to the Bent,
And pouss our Fortune,
And crack wi' Lads wha're well content
Wi' this our Sporting.

Gin ony sour-mou'd girning Bucky
Ca' me conceity keckling Chucky,
That we like Nags whase Necks are yucky,
Ha'e us'd our Teeth;
I'll answer fine,—Gae kiss ye'r Lucky
She dwells i' Leith.

I ne'er wi' lang Tales fash my Head,
But when I speak, I speak indeed:
Wha ca's me droll, but ony Feed,
I'll own I am sae,
And while my Champers can chew Bread,

Yours—Allan Ramsay.

Like Rynard the Fox, to betake my self to some more of my Wiles.

Leaves the Martial Contention, and retires to a Country Life.

'Tis well known he could write as well as fight.

'Tis frequent in the Country to drink Beer out of Horn Cups, made in Shape of a Water Glass.

Vide Book I. 11. Ode of Horace.

A Hallen is a Fence (built of Stone, Turf, or a moveable Flake of Heather) at the Sides of the Door in Country Places, to defend them from the Wind. The trembling Attendant about a forgetfull great Man's Gate or Levee, is all express'd in the Term Hallenshaker.

Make People very earnest.

'Tis usual for many, after a full Laugh, to complain of sore Sides, and to bestow a kindly Curse on the Author of the Jest. But the Folks of more tender Consciences have turned their Expletives to friendly Wishes, such as this; or, Sonse fa' ye, and the like.

Is a cant Phrase, from what Rise I know not; but 'tis made use of when one thinks it not worth while to give a direct Answer, or think themselves foolishly accused.