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

Thalia , ever welcome to this Isle,
Descend, and glad the Nation with a Smile;
See frae yon Bank where South-Sea ebbs and flows,
How Sand-blind Chance Woodies and Wealth bestows:
Aided by thee, I'll sail the wondrous Deep,
And throw the crowded Alleys cautious creep.
Not easy Task to plough the swelling Wave,
Or in Stock-jobbing Press my Guts to save:
But naething can our wilder Passions tame,
Wha rax for Riches or immortal Fame.

153

Long had the Grumblers us'd this murm'ring Sound,
Poor Britain in her Publick Debt is drown'd!
At fifty Millions late we started a',
And wow we wonder'd how the Debt wad fa';
But sonsy Sauls wha first contriv'd the Way,
With Project deep our Charges to defray;
O'er and aboon it Heaps of Treasure brings,
That Fouk be guess become as rich as Kings.
Lang Heads they were that first laid down the Plan,
Into the which the Round anes headlang ran,
Till overstockt, they quat the Sea, and fain wa'd been at Land.
Thus when braid Flakes of Snaw have clade the Green,
Aften I have young sportive Gilpies seen,
The waxing Ba' with meikle Pleasure row,
Till past their Pith, it did unwieldy grow.

'Tis strange to think what Changes may appear
Within the narrow Circle of a Year.
How can ae Project, if it be well laid,
Supply the simple Want of trifling Trade!
Saxty lang Years a Man may rack his Brain,
Hunt after Gear baith Night and Day wi' Pain,
And die at last in Debt, instead of Gain.
But O South-Sea! What mortal Mind can run
Throw a' the Miracles that thou hast done?
Nor scrimply thou thy sell to bounds confines,
But like the Sun on ilka Party shines.
To Poor and Rich, the Fools as well as Wise,
With Hand impartial stretches out the Prize.

154

Like Nilus swelling frae his unkend Head,
Frae Bank to Brae o'erflows ilk Rig and Mead,
Instilling lib'ral Store of genial Sap,
Whence Sun-burn'd Gypsies reap a plenteous Crap:
Thus flows our Sea, but with this Diff'rence wide,
But anes a Year their River heaves his Tide;
Ours aft ilk Day, t'enrich the Common Weal,
Bangs o'er its Banks, and dings Ægyptian Nile.

Ye Rich and Wise, we own Success your due,
But your Reverse their Luck with Wonder view.
How without Thought these dawted Petts of Fate
Have jobb'd themselves into sae high a State,
By pure Instinct sae leal the Mark have hit,
Without the Use of either Fear or Wit.
And ithers wha last Years their Garrets kept,
Where Duns in Vision fash'd them while they slept;
Wha only durst in Twilight or the Dark,
Steal to a common Cook's with haff a Mark,
A' their hale Stock.—Now by a kanny Gale,
In the o'erflowing Ocean spread their Sail,
While they in gilded Galleys cut the Tide,
Look down on Fisher Boats wi' meikle Pride.

155

Mean time the Thinkers wha are out of Play,
For their ain Comfort kenna what to say;
That the Foundation's loose fain wa'd they shaw,
And think na but the Fabrick soon will fa'.
That's a' but Sham,—for inwardly they fry,
Vext that their Fingers were na in the Pye.
Faint-hearted Wights, wha dully stood afar,
Tholling your Reason great Attempts to mar;
While the brave Dauntless, of sic Fetters free,
Jumpt headlong glorious in the golden Sea:
Where now like Gods they rule each wealthy Jaw,
While you may thump your Pows against the Wa'.

On Summers E'en the Welkin cawm and fair,
When little Midges frisk in lazy Air,
Have ye not seen thro' ither how they reel,
And Time about how up and down they wheel?
Thus Eddies of Stock-jobbers drive about;
Upmost to Day, the Morn their Pipe's put out.
With pensive Face, when e'er the Market's hy,
Minutius crys, Ah! what a Gowk was I.
Some Friend of his, wha wisely seems to ken
Events of Causes mair than ither Men,
Push for your Interest yet, Nae Fear, he crys,
For South-Sea will to twice ten hunder rise.
Waes me for him that sells paternal Land,
And buys when Shares the highest Sums demand:
He ne'er shall taste the Sweets of rising Stock,
Which faws neist Day: Nae Help for't, he is broke.

156

Dear Sea, be tenty how thou flows at Shams
Of Hogland Gad'rens in their Froggy Dams,
Lest in their muddy Boggs thou chance to sink,
Where thou may'st stagnate, syne of Course maun stink.

This I forsee, (and Time shall prove I'm right;
For he's nae Poet wants the second Sight,)
When Autumn's Stores are ruck'd up in the Yard,
And Sleet and Snaw dreeps down cauld Winter's Beard;
When bleak November Winds make Forrests bare,
And with splenetick Vapours fill the Air:
Then, then in Gardens, Parks, or silent Glen,
When Trees bear naething else, they'll carry Men,
Wha shall like paughty Romans greatly swing
Aboon Earth's Disappointments in a String.
Sae ends the towring Saul that downa see
A Man move in a higher Sphere than he.

Happy that Man wha has thrawn up a Main,
Which makes some Hundred thousands a' his ain,
And comes to anchor on sae firm a Rock,
Britannia's Credit, and the South-Sea Stock.
Ilk blythsome Pleasure waits upon his Nod,
And his Dependants eye him like a God.
Closs may he bend Champain frae E'en to Morn,
And look on Cells of Tippony with Scorn.
Thrice lucky Pimps, or smug-fac'd wanton Fair,
That can in a' his Wealth and Pleasure skair.
Like Jove he sits, like Jove, high Heavens Goodman,
While the inferiour Gods about him stand,
Till he permits with condescending Grace,
That ilka ane in Order take their Place.
Thus with attentive Look mensfow they sit,
Till he speak first, and shaw some shining Wit;

157

Syne circling wheels the flattering Gaffaw,
As well they may, he gars their Beards wag a'.
Imperial Gowd, What is't thou canna grant?
Possest of thee, What is't a Man needs want?
Commanding Coin, there's nathing hard to thee,
I canna guess how rich Fowk come to die.

Unhappy Wretch, link'd to the threed-bare Nine,
The dazling Equipage can ne'er be thine:
Destin'd to toil thro' Labyrinths of Verse,
Dar'st speak of great Stock-jobbing as a Farce.
Poor thoughtless Mortal, vain of airy Dreams,
Thy flying Horse, and bright Apollo's Beams,
And Helicon's wersh Well thou ca's Divine,
Are nathing like a Mistress, Coach and Wine.

Wad some good Patron (whase superior Skill
Can make the South-Sea ebb and flow at Will,)
Put in a Stock for me, I own it fair,
In Epick Strain I'd pay him to a Hair;
Immortalize him, and what e'er he loves,
In flowing Numbers I shall sing, Approves;
If not, Fox like, I'll thraw my Gab, and gloom,
And ca' your Hundred Thousand a sour Plum.

Thalia the chearful Muse that delights to imitate the Actions of Mankind, and produces the laughing Comedy. . . . That Kind of Poetry ever acceptable to Britons.

Land, in the Time of this Golden two or three Months, was sold at 45, or 50 Years Purchase.

All Manner of Traffick and Mechanicks was at that Time despised. Subscriptions and Transfers were the only Commodities.

A River which crosses a great Part of Africa; the Spring-head thereof unknown till of late. In the Month of June it swells and overflows Egypt. When it rises too high, the Innundation is dangerous, and threatens a Famine. In this River are the monstrous amphibious Animals named Crocodiles, of the same Specie with the late Alligators of the South-Sea, which make a Prey of, and devour all humane Creatures they can lay hold on.

Poor Fools.

One was reckoned a timorous thinking Fool who took Advice of his Reason in the grand Affair.

Despis'd the virtuous Design of propagating and carrying on a Fishery, which can never fail to be a real Benefit to Britain.

Many of just Thinking at that Time were vex'd to see themselves trudging on Foot, when some others of very indifferent Capacities were setting up gilded Equipages; and notwithstanding of all the Doubts they formed against it, yet fretted because they were not so lucky as to have some Shares.

Threw off all the Fetters of Reason, and plung'd gloriously into Confusion.

With Grave Faces many at that Time pretended they could demonstrate this hop'd for Rise of South-Sea.

The Dutch, whom a learned Author of a late Essay has endeavoured to prove to be descended after a strange Manner from the Gaderens; which Essay Lewis the XIV was mightily pleas'd with, and bounteously rewarded the Author.

Feasts them at his own proper Cost; hence the Proverb, 'Tis fair in Ha', where Beards wag a'.

The Fox in the Fable that despised the Plumbs he could not reach, is well known. 100000 Pounds being called a Plumb, make this a right Pun; and some Puns deserve not to be class'd amongst low Wit, tho the Generality of them do.