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

Sir, I had your's, and own my Pleasure,
On the Receipt, exceeded Measure.
You write with so much Sp'rit and Glee,
Sae smooth, sae strong, correct and free;
That any He (by you allow'd
To have some Merit) may be proud.
If that's my Fault, bear you the Blame,
Wha've lent me sic a Lift to Fame.
Your ain tours high, and widens far,
Bright glancing like a first-rate Star,
And all the World bestow due Praise
On the Collection of your Lays;
Where various Arts and Turns combine,
Which even in Parts first Poets shine:
Like Mat and Swift ye sing with Ease,
And can be Waller when you please.
Continue, Sir, and shame the Crew
That's plagued with having nought to do,
Who Fortune in a merry Mood
Has overcharg'd with gentle Blood,
But has deny'd a Genius fit
For Action or aspiring Wit;
Such kenna how t'employ their Time,
And think Activity a Crime:
Aught they to either do, or say,
Or walk, or write, or read, or pray!
When Money, their Factotum's able
To furnish them a numerous Rabble,

187

Who will, for daily Drink and Wages,
Be Chair-men, Chaplains, Clerks, and Pages:
Could they, like you, employ their Hours
In planting these delightful Flowers,
Which carpet the Poetick Fields,
And lasting Funds of Pleasure yields;
Nae mair they'd gaunt and gove away,
Or sleep or loiter out the Day,
Or waste the Night damning their Sauls
In deep Debauch, and bawdy Brawls:
Whence Pox and Poverty proceed
An early Eild, and Spirits dead.
Reverse of You;—and Him you Love,
Whose brighter Spirit tours above
The Mob of thoughtless Lords and Beaus,
Who in his ilka Action shows
True Friendship, Love, Benevolence,
Unstudy'd Wit, and manly Sense.
Allow here what you've said your sell,
Nought can b' exprest, so just and well:
To Him and Her, worthy his Love,
And every Blessing from above,
A Son is given, GOD save the Boy,
For theirs and every Som'ril's Joy.
Ye Wardins round him take your Place,
And raise him with each manly Grace;
Make his Meridian Vertues shine,
To add fresh Lustres to his Line:
And many may the Mother see
Of such a lovely Progeny.

Now, Sir, when Boreas nae mair thuds
Hail, Snaw and Sleet, frae blacken'd Clouds;
While Caledonia's Hills are green,
And a' her Straths delight the Een;
While ilka Flower with Fragrance blows,
And a' the Year it's Beauty shows;

188

Before again the Winter lour,
What hinders then your No[r]thern Tour?
Be sure of Welcome: Nor believe
These wha an ill Report would give
To Ed'nburgh and the Land of Cakes,
That nought what's necessary lacks.
Here Plenty's Goddess frae her Horn
Pours Fish and Cattle, Claith and Corn,
In blyth Abundance;—and yet mair,
Our Men are brave, our Ladies fair.
Nor will North Britain yield for Fouth
Of ilka thing, and Fellows couth,
To any but her Sister South.—

True, rugged Roads are cursed driegh,
And Speats aft roar frae Mountains high:
The Body tires,—poor tottering Clay,
And likes with Ease at hame to stay;
While Sauls stride Warlds at ilka Stend,
And can their widening Views extend.
Mine sees you, while you chearfu' roam
On sweet Avona's flow'ry Howm,
There recollecting, with full View,
These Follies which Mankind pursue;
While, conscious of superior Merit,
You rise with a correcting Spirit;
And, as an Agent of the Gods,
Lash them with sharp satyrick Roads:
Labour divine!—Next, for a Change,
O'er Hill and Dale I see you range,
After the Fox or whidding Hare,
Confirming Health in purest Air;
While Joy frae Heights and Dales resounds,
Rais'd by the Hola, Horn and Hounds:
Fatigu'd, yet pleas'd, the Chace out-run,
I see the Friend, and setting Sun,
Invite you to the temp'rate Bicquor,
Which makes the Blood and Wit flow quicker.

189

The Clock strikes Twelve, to Rest you bound,
To save your Health by sleeping sound.
Thus with cool Head and healsome Breast
You see new Day stream frae the East:
Then all the Muses round you shine,
Inspiring every Thought divine;
Be long their Aid—Your Years and Blesses,
Your Servant ALLAN RAMSAY wishes.