The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
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To the Right Honourable, WILLIAM Earl of Dalhousie
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 | The works of Allan Ramsay |  |
To the Right Honourable, WILLIAM Earl of Dalhousie .
Mæcenas atavis edite Regibus,
Horace.
Dalhousie
of an auld Descent,
My Chief, my Stoup and Ornament,
For Entertainment a wee while,
Accept this Sonnet with a Smile;
Setting great Horace in my View,
He to Mecenas, I to you:
But that my Muse may sing with Ease,
I'll keep or drap him as I please.
My Chief, my Stoup and Ornament,
For Entertainment a wee while,
Accept this Sonnet with a Smile;
Setting great Horace in my View,
He to Mecenas, I to you:
But that my Muse may sing with Ease,
I'll keep or drap him as I please.
218
How differently are Fowk inclin'd,
There's hardly twa of the same Mind:
Some like to study, some to play,
Some on the Links to win the Day,
And gar the Courser rin like wood,
A' drapin down with Sweat and Blood:
The Winner syne assumes a Look
Might gain a Monarch or a Duke.
Neist view the Man with pauky Face
Has mounted to a fashous Place,
Inclin'd by an o'er-ruling Fate,
He's pleas'd with his uneasy State:
Glowr'd at a while, he gangs fou braw,
Till frae his kittle Post he fa'.
There's hardly twa of the same Mind:
Some like to study, some to play,
Some on the Links to win the Day,
And gar the Courser rin like wood,
A' drapin down with Sweat and Blood:
The Winner syne assumes a Look
Might gain a Monarch or a Duke.
Neist view the Man with pauky Face
Has mounted to a fashous Place,
Inclin'd by an o'er-ruling Fate,
He's pleas'd with his uneasy State:
Glowr'd at a while, he gangs fou braw,
Till frae his kittle Post he fa'.
The
Lothian Farmer he likes best
To be of good faugh Riggs possest,
And fen upon a frugal Stock,
Where his Forbeers had us'd the Yoke:
Nor is he fond to leave his Wark,
And venture in a rotten Bark,
Syne unto far aff Countries steer
On tumbling Waves to gather Gear.
To be of good faugh Riggs possest,
And fen upon a frugal Stock,
Where his Forbeers had us'd the Yoke:
Nor is he fond to leave his Wark,
And venture in a rotten Bark,
Syne unto far aff Countries steer
On tumbling Waves to gather Gear.
The Merchant wreck'd upon the Main
Swears he'll never venture on't again;
That he had rather live on Cakes,
And shyrest Swats, with Landart Maiks,
As rin the Risk by Storms to have,
When he is dead, a living Grave.
But Seas turn smooth, and he grows fain,
And fairly takes his Word again:
Tho he shou'd to the Bottom sink,
Of Poverty he downa think.
Swears he'll never venture on't again;
That he had rather live on Cakes,
And shyrest Swats, with Landart Maiks,
As rin the Risk by Storms to have,
When he is dead, a living Grave.
But Seas turn smooth, and he grows fain,
And fairly takes his Word again:
Tho he shou'd to the Bottom sink,
Of Poverty he downa think.
219
Some like to laugh their Time away,
To dance while Pipes or Fidles play,
And have nae Sense of ony Want
As lang as they can drink and rant.
To dance while Pipes or Fidles play,
And have nae Sense of ony Want
As lang as they can drink and rant.
The rat'ling Drum and Trumpet's Tout
Delight young Swankies that are stout:
What his kind frighted Mother ugs,
Is Musick to the Soger's Lugs.
Delight young Swankies that are stout:
What his kind frighted Mother ugs,
Is Musick to the Soger's Lugs.
The Hunter with his Hounds and Hawks
Bangs up afore his Wife awakes;
Nor speers gin she has ought to say,
But scowrs o'er Highs and Hows a' Day,
Throw Moss and Moor, nor does he care
Whither the Day be foul or fair,
If he his trusty Hounds can chear
To hunt the Tod or drive the Deer.
Bangs up afore his Wife awakes;
Nor speers gin she has ought to say,
But scowrs o'er Highs and Hows a' Day,
Throw Moss and Moor, nor does he care
Whither the Day be foul or fair,
If he his trusty Hounds can chear
To hunt the Tod or drive the Deer.
May I be happy in my Lays,
And won a lasting Wreath of Bays,
Is a' my Wish; well pleas'd to sing
Beneath a Tree, or by a Spring,
While Lads and Lasses on the Mead
Attend my Caledonian Reed,
And with the sweetest Notes rehearse
My Thoughts, and roose me for my Verse.
And won a lasting Wreath of Bays,
Is a' my Wish; well pleas'd to sing
Beneath a Tree, or by a Spring,
While Lads and Lasses on the Mead
Attend my Caledonian Reed,
And with the sweetest Notes rehearse
My Thoughts, and roose me for my Verse.
If you, my Lord, class me amang
Those who have sung baith saft and strang,
Of smiling Love or doughty Deed,
To Starns sublime I'll lift my Head.
Those who have sung baith saft and strang,
Of smiling Love or doughty Deed,
To Starns sublime I'll lift my Head.
| The works of Allan Ramsay | |