The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
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On WIT.
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 | The works of Allan Ramsay |  |
On WIT.
My easy Friends, since ye think fit
This Night to lucubrate on Wit;
And since ye judge that I compose
My Thoughts in Rhime better than Prose,
I'll give my Judgment in a Sang,
And here it comes be't right or wrang.
But first of a' I'll tell a Tale
That with my Case runs paralel.
This Night to lucubrate on Wit;
And since ye judge that I compose
My Thoughts in Rhime better than Prose,
I'll give my Judgment in a Sang,
And here it comes be't right or wrang.
But first of a' I'll tell a Tale
That with my Case runs paralel.
There was a manting Lad in Fife,
Wha cou'd na for his very Life
Speak without stammering very lang,
Yet never manted when he sang.
His Father's Kiln he anes saw burning,
Which gart the Lad run Breathless mourning;
Hameward with cliver Strides he lap,
To tell his Dady his Mishap.
At Distance e'er he reach'd the Door,
He stood and rais'd a hideous Roar.
His Father when he heard his Voice,
Stept out and said, Why a' this Noise?
The Calland gap'd and glowr'd about,
But no ae Word could he lug out:
His Dad cry'd, kening his Defect,
Sing, sing, or I shall break your Neck.
Then soon he gratifi'd his Sire,
And sang aloud, Your Kiln's a Fire.
Wha cou'd na for his very Life
Speak without stammering very lang,
Yet never manted when he sang.
His Father's Kiln he anes saw burning,
Which gart the Lad run Breathless mourning;
Hameward with cliver Strides he lap,
To tell his Dady his Mishap.
At Distance e'er he reach'd the Door,
He stood and rais'd a hideous Roar.
202
Stept out and said, Why a' this Noise?
The Calland gap'd and glowr'd about,
But no ae Word could he lug out:
His Dad cry'd, kening his Defect,
Sing, sing, or I shall break your Neck.
Then soon he gratifi'd his Sire,
And sang aloud, Your Kiln's a Fire.
Now ye'll allow there's Wit in that,
To tell a Tale sae very pat.
Bright Wit appears in mony a Shape,
Which some invent and others ape.
Some shaw their Wit in wearing Claiths,
And some in coining of new Aiths;
There's crambo Wit in making Rhime,
And dancing Wit in beating Time:
There's metl'd Wit in Story-telling,
In writing Grammar, and right spelling:
Wit shines in Knowledge of Politicks,
And wow! what Wit's amang the Criticks.
To tell a Tale sae very pat.
Bright Wit appears in mony a Shape,
Which some invent and others ape.
Some shaw their Wit in wearing Claiths,
And some in coining of new Aiths;
There's crambo Wit in making Rhime,
And dancing Wit in beating Time:
There's metl'd Wit in Story-telling,
In writing Grammar, and right spelling:
Wit shines in Knowledge of Politicks,
And wow! what Wit's amang the Criticks.
So far my Mates excuse me while I play
In Strains ironick with that heavenly Ray,
Rays which the humane Intelects refine,
And makes the Man with brill[i]ant Lustre shine,
Marking him sprung from Origine divine.
Yet may a well rig'd Ship be full of Flaws,
So may loose Wits regard no sacred Laws:
That Ship the Waves will soon to Pieces shake,
So 'midst his Vices sinks the witty Rake.
But when on First-rate-virtues Wit attends,
It both itself and Virtue recommends,
And challenges Respect where e'er its Blaze extends.
In Strains ironick with that heavenly Ray,
Rays which the humane Intelects refine,
And makes the Man with brill[i]ant Lustre shine,
Marking him sprung from Origine divine.
Yet may a well rig'd Ship be full of Flaws,
So may loose Wits regard no sacred Laws:
That Ship the Waves will soon to Pieces shake,
So 'midst his Vices sinks the witty Rake.
But when on First-rate-virtues Wit attends,
It both itself and Virtue recommends,
And challenges Respect where e'er its Blaze extends.
| The works of Allan Ramsay | |