THE FOX AND THE SHEPHERDS.

A

A FABLE.

Fox, as story tells, one day

Was roaming out, in search of prey;
And, as he scamper'd o'er the field,
Chance brought him to a rustic bield,
Where a few shepherds, cheerly met,
Were at some roasted Mutton set.
Good Reynard, passing, thought no sin
To make a stand, and peep within.

Observing how the rustic bevy

Hew'd down the slice, and sopp'd the gravy;
Bless me! said Reynard, what a fuss you'd made,

Had you but caught poor me at such a trade!

So the ill judging, unforgiving elf, Blames, in another, what he does himself.

SONG.

MY NORAH.

Set to Music by a Friend.

THE smell of the sweet briar, that's wet with the dew, The blush of the Dawn, when she's rising to view, Cant once be compar'd, I am sure it is true,

To the breath, or the blush of my Norah. Her neck is as white as the new fallen snows; Her cheek is the sweetest carnation that blows; And O! what a colourless thing is a rose,

When compar'd to the lip of my Norah.

Ah me! when I see my sweet Norah pass by,
If she'd smile on poor Selim, no longer he'd sigh:
Tho I'm scorch'd to the soul by the beam of her

eye

Such a pain would be pleasure for Norah. Oh! pity poor Selim, ye powers above! You see what a pother I'm brought to by Love: May my sighs, and Affection, her tenderness move, Or, alas! I must die for sweet Norah.

THE DEIL'S ANSWER

TO HIS VERA WORDY FRIEND R***** B****.

Tophet, 15th day of the Month Adar.

Quæ tibi, quæ tali, reddam, pro carmine dona?

VIRG.

For sic a Sang as I gat frae ye,

My wordy Friend, what can I gie ye?

So, zealous Robin! stout an' fell,
True champion for the cause o' Hell;

Thou beats the Righteous down, pell mell,

Sae frank an' furthy,

That, o'a place whar Devils dwell,

There's nane mair worthy.

Gif thou gang on the gait thou's gaun,
Ilk fearless Fiend sal by thee staun,
That bows aneath my high commaun :

Sae be na frightit,

For I sal len' my helpin' haun,

To see thee rightit.

Thou dis as weel's could be expeckit
O' ane, wha's wit lay lang negleckit
An' gets thy rank ideas deckit

In rhime sae bra',

That thou's in Hell right weel respeckit

Amang us a'.

Sae fear'd I'm for the gospel gun,
To see my Friends I canna win ;
But tell sic chields as thee, my son,

I'll see them sune;

An' thee an' me's hae curious fun,

Or a' be doon.

The Endor witch, wha liv'd lang syne,
Was a right honest friend o' mine;
An' Haman, wha in tale sal shine,

For zealous spite;

But nane o' them did feats like thine,

In black an' white.

Sae high as thee they coudna speel:
They coudna string a verse sae leal;
Nor, on the standin' faith, sae weel

Spue out their tauntins;

Nor

pen love letters to the Deil,

To scrape acquaintance,

Introwth, thou has an unco knack
O'rhimin' skill, an' ready clack:
I wad me, Nature was na slack

In makin' thee:

Thou has mair wit than the hail pack

O' Deils like me.

Since on the earth we first took staunin',
We've ay been sae ta'en up wi' plannin',
An' plottin', that, keep me frae bannin'!

The deil a styme

O' leisure can we hain for scannin'

O' gleesome rhime.

Had I no read your line aff haun,
I'm sure I boost to let it staun :

I'se wad, nae General in

your laun

Has sic a pine,

An' fash, wi a wanruly baun,

As I've wi' mine.

Ilk hour, they mak' sic rout an' rair
Soun' thro' ilk region o' the air;

They aft times mak' my heart sae sair,

War't possible, nae styme

Sae fyk'd, an' flurried;

I

care

I'm dead an' buried.