Oh a' ye flocks o'er a' the hills, And get the brutes the powers themsels Then Orthodoxy yet may prance, Be banished o'er the sea to France: Then Shaw's and D'rymple's eloquence, halter Wi' Smith, wha through the heart can glance, May a' pack aff.1 1 In the three last verses, the poet glances satirically at the demands made by the Old-Light party to obtain for congregations the right of choosing their own ministers, as opposite to the plan of their appointment by patrons, which had been reigning for several ages. The anti-patronage cause was almost identified with that of the Old Light, and for this reasor Burns had no sympathies with it. TO WILLIAM S[IMPSON], OCHILTREE. The poet tells us that the Twa Herds was the first of his poetic offspring which saw the light. The date of this event appears to be April 1785, the era of the letters to Lapraik, and probably very little after that of Hornbook. One Patrick Simpson carried a copy of the poem to his home in Ochiltree parish, a few miles south of Mauchline. By Patrick it was communicated to his brother, William Simpson, the parish schoolmaster, and a rhymer, who was immediately prompted to address a versified epistle to Burns, having probably heard the satire attributed to him. This was quickly answered by Burns in a beautiful poem, expressive of his intense love of nature and of country; to which, moreover, was appended a clever allegorical description of the heresy which he had adopted. In the expression, ‘Our herds,' and the whole strain of this allegory, the reader will now see a connection of circumstances leading on from the Holy Tulzie, and confirming the present narration. I GAT your letter, winsome Willie ; May, 1785. Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawly; heartily Though I maun say't, I wad be silly, And unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin' billie, Your flatterin' strain. fellow But I'se believe ye kindly meant it, On my poor Musie; Though in sic phrasin' terms ye've penned it, I scarce excuse ye. My senses wad be in a creel,1 The braes o' fame; Or Fergusson, the writer chiel, A deathless name. (Oh, Fergusson! thy glorious parts Ill suited law's dry musty arts! obliquely directed cajoling basket climb lad My curse upon your whunstane hearts, whinstone The tithe o' what ye waste at cartes Yet when a tale comes i' my head, ren 1 In Scotland, when a person is much exalted and mysti fied about anything, he is said to be in a creel. 2 Allan Ramsay. 8 William Hamilton of Gilbertfield, a Scottish poet con. emporary with Ramsay. (Oh sad disease!) I kittle up my rustic reed; It gies me ease. finger Auld Coila 1 now may fidge fu' fain, She's gotten poets o' her ain, hug herself Chiels wha their chanters winna hain, pipes-spare But tune their lays, Till echoes a' resound again Her weel-sung praise. Nae poet thought her worth his while, Beside New Holland, Or whare wild-meeting oceans boil Ramsay and famous Fergusson While Irwin, Lugar, Ayr, and Doon, Th' Illissus, Tiber, Thames, and Seine, 1 The district of Kyle, personified under the appellation of Coila. Burns afterwards assumed Coila as the name of his Muse. VOL L foot But, Willie, set your fit to mine, And cock your crest, We'll gar our streams and burnies shine rivulets Up wi' the best! We'll sing auld Coila's plains and fells, mountains Her moors red-brown wi' heather-bells, Her banks and braes, her dens and dells, Where glorious Wallace Aft bure the gree, as story tells, Frae southron billies. At Wallace' name what Scottish blood Still pressing onward, red-wat shod, bore the bel O sweet are Coila's haughs and woods Their loves enjoy, fellows meadows While through the braes the cushat croods Even winter bleak has charms to me, linnets furtive [dove coos When winds rave through the naked tree; 1 A word expressive of the quick, nimble movements of the hare, which hence is sometimes called a whiddie in Scot land. |