Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/236
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
180
THE POEMS OF BURNS.
VERSES TO J. RANKINE.
Ae day, as Death, that grusome carl,
Was driving to the tither warl'
A mixtie-maxtie motley squad,
And monie a guilt-bespotted lad;
Black gowns of each denomination,
And thieves of every rank and station,
From him that wears the star and garter,
To him that wintles in a halter;
Asham'd himsel to see the wretches,
He mutters, glowrin at the bitches,
'By God I'll not be seen behint them,
Nor 'mang the sp'ritual core present them,
Without at least, ae honest man,
To grace this damn'd infernal clan,'
By Adamhill a glance he threw,
'Lord God!' quoth he, 'I have it now,
There's just the man I want, i' faith,'
And quickly stoppit Rankine's breath.
Was driving to the tither warl'
A mixtie-maxtie motley squad,
And monie a guilt-bespotted lad;
Black gowns of each denomination,
And thieves of every rank and station,
From him that wears the star and garter,
To him that wintles in a halter;
Asham'd himsel to see the wretches,
He mutters, glowrin at the bitches,
'By God I'll not be seen behint them,
Nor 'mang the sp'ritual core present them,
Without at least, ae honest man,
To grace this damn'd infernal clan,'
By Adamhill a glance he threw,
'Lord God!' quoth he, 'I have it now,
There's just the man I want, i' faith,'
And quickly stoppit Rankine's breath.
EXTEMPORE IN THE COURT OF SESSION.
TUNE—'KILLIECRANKIE.'
LORD ADVOCATE.
He clench'd his pamphlets in his fist,
He quoted and he hinted,
Till in a declamation-mist,
His argument he tint it:
He gaped for't, he graped for't,
He fand it was awa, man ;
But what his common sense came short,
He eked out wi' law, man.
He clench'd his pamphlets in his fist,
He quoted and he hinted,
Till in a declamation-mist,
His argument he tint it:
He gaped for't, he graped for't,
He fand it was awa, man ;
But what his common sense came short,
He eked out wi' law, man.
MR. ERSKINE.
Collected Harry stood awee,
Then open'd out his arm, man;
His lordship sat wi' ruefu' e'e,
And ey'd the gathering storm, man:
Like wind-driv'n hail it did assail,
Or torrents owre a linn, man;
The Bench sae wise, lift up their eyes,
Half-wauken'd wi' the din, man.
Collected Harry stood awee,
Then open'd out his arm, man;
His lordship sat wi' ruefu' e'e,
And ey'd the gathering storm, man:
Like wind-driv'n hail it did assail,
Or torrents owre a linn, man;
The Bench sae wise, lift up their eyes,
Half-wauken'd wi' the din, man.
EPITAPH ON JOHN DOVE, INNKEEPER, MAUCHLINE.
Here lies Johnny Pidgeon;
What was his religion?
Wha e'er desires to ken,
To some other warl'
Maun follow the carl,
For here Johnny Pidgeon had nane!
Strong ale was ablution,—
Small beer persecution,
A dram was memento mori;
But a full flowing bowl
Was the saving his soul,
And port was celestial glory.
What was his religion?
Wha e'er desires to ken,
To some other warl'
Maun follow the carl,
For here Johnny Pidgeon had nane!
Strong ale was ablution,—
Small beer persecution,
A dram was memento mori;
But a full flowing bowl
Was the saving his soul,
And port was celestial glory.
EPITAPH ON A WAG IN MAUCHLINE.
Lament him, Mauchline husbands a',
He aften did assist ye;
For had ye staid whole weeks awa,
Your wives they ne'er had miss'd ye.
He aften did assist ye;
For had ye staid whole weeks awa,
Your wives they ne'er had miss'd ye.
Ye Mauchline bairns, as on ye pass
To school in bands thegither,
O tread ye lightly on his grass,
Perhaps he was your father.
To school in bands thegither,
O tread ye lightly on his grass,
Perhaps he was your father.