The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour collated with the ms. volume of his poems, and containing several pieces hitherto unpublished; with illustrative notes, and an account of the life of the author. By James Paterson |
 |
 |
| I. |
| II. |
| I. |
| IV. |
HORACE, BOOK III., ODE XXI., IMITATED. |
|
 | The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour |  |
HORACE, BOOK III., ODE XXI., IMITATED.
TO A CASK OF TWENTY-YEAR-OLD BEER.
O born with me, when Anna reign'd,
And prudent Warrender sustain'd,
The rights of Edin town;
Come now, good-fellow, and descend,
Decreed to entertain a friend,
'Tis Ramsay calls thee down.
And prudent Warrender sustain'd,
The rights of Edin town;
Come now, good-fellow, and descend,
Decreed to entertain a friend,
'Tis Ramsay calls thee down.
Whate'er thy pregnant belly bears,
Or wit to set us by the ears;
Or if more kind it keeps
The whining lover's fond complaint,
Or street amours, or kind intent,
And honest drunken sleeps.
Or wit to set us by the ears;
Or if more kind it keeps
The whining lover's fond complaint,
Or street amours, or kind intent,
And honest drunken sleeps.
129
Whate'er it be, no dull delay,
Thou can'st descend a better day;
Here at this table set,
We honest twain shall by and by
Let furth thy soul to liberty,
And drain thee ‘tete-a-tete.”
Thou can'st descend a better day;
Here at this table set,
We honest twain shall by and by
Let furth thy soul to liberty,
And drain thee ‘tete-a-tete.”
Nor so phlegmatic will be found
My friend, tho' deep the youth be drown'd
In Lord of Shaftesbury's schemes:
An hour or two he will, by stealth,
Forsake for thee and Pringle's health,
His Plato and his dreams.
My friend, tho' deep the youth be drown'd
In Lord of Shaftesbury's schemes:
An hour or two he will, by stealth,
Forsake for thee and Pringle's health,
His Plato and his dreams.
Oft pious prelates have been known
To have their sense by drink o'erthrown,
As story could make clear;
Oft Fletcher the severe is said
To 'ave warm'd his virtue and his head
With stout October beer.
To have their sense by drink o'erthrown,
As story could make clear;
Oft Fletcher the severe is said
To 'ave warm'd his virtue and his head
With stout October beer.
Beer quickens up the dead and dull,
And pulleys high the heavy soul,
To the third firmament;
It makes the bashful lover prattle,
And Græme of Gorthy turn a rattle,
As Forbes eloquent.
And pulleys high the heavy soul,
To the third firmament;
It makes the bashful lover prattle,
And Græme of Gorthy turn a rattle,
As Forbes eloquent.
Thou from the look profoundly wise
Pull'st off the grave and quaint disguise,
And naked dost expose;
Thou open'st up the secret seal,
And dost kirk politics reveal
When Robin Steuart's jocose.
Pull'st off the grave and quaint disguise,
And naked dost expose;
Thou open'st up the secret seal,
And dost kirk politics reveal
When Robin Steuart's jocose.
Thou to the sad, desponding heart,
Bring'st back Hope, on wing to part,
And Mirth and Jollity:
Thy powerful call affliction hears,
Strong to repel the poor man's fears,
And rear his horn on high.
Bring'st back Hope, on wing to part,
And Mirth and Jollity:
Thy powerful call affliction hears,
Strong to repel the poor man's fears,
And rear his horn on high.
Who, after thee, but brave contemns
The gold, the pearl, the shining gems
In rich Britannia's crown?
Or heeds the unhallowed rap of duns,
Kirk treasurer's rage, or Bushel's guns,
George Drummond's smile or frown.
The gold, the pearl, the shining gems
In rich Britannia's crown?
Or heeds the unhallowed rap of duns,
Kirk treasurer's rage, or Bushel's guns,
George Drummond's smile or frown.
130
Thee, if the jolly god of wine,
And laughter-loving Venus join,
And sister graces three,
Dancing blythe, aye hand in hand,
Loth to untie the filial band,
Add their sweet company.
And laughter-loving Venus join,
And sister graces three,
Dancing blythe, aye hand in hand,
Loth to untie the filial band,
Add their sweet company.
Then, when the monarch of the day,
No more shall gild the ærial way,
But put his lustre out,
While regent tapers shall supply
His throne, a flaming ministry,
Send Mary's health about.
No more shall gild the ærial way,
But put his lustre out,
While regent tapers shall supply
His throne, a flaming ministry,
Send Mary's health about.
Till, blazing from the eastern main,
The sun exert his light again,
Then, by drink o'ercome,
Hanging the emptied cask on high,
The monument of victory,
Reel drunk and staggering home.
The sun exert his light again,
Then, by drink o'ercome,
Hanging the emptied cask on high,
The monument of victory,
Reel drunk and staggering home.
| The poems and songs of William Hamilton of Bangour | |