Then horn for horn they stretch and strive, belyve Are bent like drums; Then auld guidman, maist like to rive, burst "Bethankit!" hums. Is there that owre his French ragout, Or olio that wad staw a sow, surfeit Or fricassee wad mak her spew Wi' perfect scunner, Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view Poor devil! see him owre his trash, As feckless as a withered rash, Through bloody flood or field to dash, But mark the rustic, haggis-fed, disgust feeble fist- nut The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his walie nieve a blade, He'll mak it whissle; lusty fist And legs, and arms, and heads will sned, shear Like taps o' thrissle. thistle Ye Powers wha mak mankind your care, And dish them out their bill o' fare, thin stud splashes in bowls Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware That jaups in luggies; But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer, EXTEMPORE IN THE COURT OF SESSION. TUNE-Killiecrankie. Two well-drawn sketches of the leading barristers of that day-namely, the Dean of Faculty, Harry Erskine, and the Lord Advocate, Mr. Ilay Campbell (subsequently Lord President). LORD ADVOCATE. HE clenched his pamphlets in his fist, He quoted and he hinted, Till in a declamation-mist, His argument he tint it: lost He gaped for't, he graipèd for't, groped He fand it was awa', man; But what his common-sense came short, He eked out wi' law, man. MR. ERSKINE. Collected Harry stood a wee, Then opened out his arm, man; His lordship sat wi' ruefu' e'e, And eyed the gathering storm, man; Like wind-driven hail, it did assail, The Bench sae wise lift up their eyes, PROLOGUE SPOKEN BY MR. WOODS ON HIS BENEFIT-NIGHT, Monday, 16th April, 1787. Amongst the men whom Burns had met and liked at the Canongate Kilwinning Lodge, was Joseph Woods, a respectable member of the Edinburgh corps dramatique, and the more likely to be endeared to the Ayrshire poet, that he had been an intimate friend of poor Fergusson. WHEN by a generous Public's kind acclaim, Poor is the task to please a barbarous throng, It needs no Siddons' powers in Southern's song; But here an ancient nation famed afar, For genius, learning high, as great in war Here holds her search by heaven-taught Reason's beam; Here History paints with elegance and force Oh thou dread Power! whose empire-giving hand 1 The Man of Feeling, written by Mr. Mackenzie. Has oft been stretched to shield the honoured land! Strong may she glow with all her ancient fire! Bold may she brave grim Danger's loudest roar, Till Fate the curtain drops on worlds to be no more! WILLIE'S AWA'. "The enclosed I have just wrote, nearly extempore, in a solitary inn at Selkirk, after a miserably wet day's riding." - Burns to William Creech, 13th May, 1787. AULD chuckie1 Reekie's2 sair distrest, Down droops her ance weel-burnished crest, Nae joy her bonny buskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she lo'es best Willie's awa'! decorated at all 1 Literally, a hen; secondarily, a familiar term of address: "Gin ony sour-mou'd girning bucky Ca' me conceited keckling chucky."- RAMSAY. 2 Literally, smoky; a familiar sobriquet for Edinburgh, not at all unsuitable. |