« ПредишнаНапред »
a fimple manner utter fimple lays,
If, mcan in want, and infolent in pow'r, And take, with fimple penfions, fimple praise. They only fawnd more surcly to devour,
Waft me some Muse to Tweed's inspiring stream, Rous’d by such wrongs should Reason take alarm, Where all the little loves and graces dream,
And c'en the Mufe for public safety arm; Where Nowly winding the dull waters creep,
But if they own ingenious Virtue's sway, And seem themselves to own the power of Neep,
And follow where true Honour points the way, Where on the surface lead, like feathers, swims, If they revere the hand by which they're fed, There let me bathe my yet unhallow'd limbs, And bless the donors for their daily bread, As once a Syrian bath'd in Jordan's Aond,
Or by vaft debts of higher impor: bound, Wah off my native stains, correct that blood Are always humble, always grateful found, Which mutinies at call of English pride,
If they, directed by Poul's holy pen,
Become discreetly all things to all men,
“ Into our places, itates, and beds they creep ;" From nice trim points, where Honour, Nave to They've sense to get, what we want sense to rule,
keep. in compliment to Folly, plays the fool ;
Once, be the hour accurs’d, accuro'd the place, From those gay scenes where Mirth exalts his pow'r, I ventur'd to blafpheme the chosen race. And easy Humour wings the laughing hour; Into those traps, which men calid Patriots laid, From those foft better moments, when defire By specious arts unwarily betray'd. Beats high, and all the world of man's on fire, Madly I leagu'd against that sacred earth, When mutual ardours of the melting fair
Vile parricide! which gave a parent birth. More than repay us for whole years of care, But shall I meanly Error's path pursue, At friendship's summons will my Wilkes retreat, When heavenly Truth presents her fr'endly clue, And see, once seen before, that ancient seat,
Once plung d in ill, shall I go farther in? That ancient seat, where majesty display'd
To make the oath was ruh, to keep it, fin.
Mean narrow maxims, which enslave mankind, And calm reflection hates what paffion swore.
Converted, (blefled are the souls which know
Those pleasures which from true conversion flow, Those faculties which bounteous Nature gave, Whether to reason, who now rules my breast, Thy honeft spirit into practice brings,
Or to pure faith, like Lyttleton and Welt) No courts the smile, nor dreads the frowns of Pait crimes to expiate, be my present aim kings.
To raise new trophies to the Scottish name, Let rade licentious Englishmen comply
To make (what can the proudest Muse do more ?) With tumule's voice, and curse they know not E'en Faction's sons her brighter worth adore, why;
To make her glories ftamp'd with honest rimes, Unwilling to condemn, thy soul disdains
In fullest tide roll down to latest times. To wear vile faction's arbitrary chains,
“ Presumptuous wretch! and shall a Mufe like And Itrialy weighs, in apprehension clcar,
thine, Things as they are, and not as they appear. “ An Engliyh Muse, the meanest of the nine, With thee Good-Humour tempers lively Wit, “Attempt a theme like this ? Can her weak Enthron'd with Judgment, Candour loves to fit,
« ftrain And Nature gave thee, open to distress,
“ Expect indulgence from the mighty Thane ? A heart to pity, and a hand to bless.
“ Should he from toils of government retire, Oft have I heard thee mourn the wretched lot “ And for a moment fan the poet's fire, Of the poor, mean, despis’d, insulted Scor,
“ Should he, of sciences the moral friend, Who, might calm reason credit idle tales,
“ Each curious, each important search suspend, By rancour forg'd where prejudice prevails,
“ Leave unajifted Hill of herbs to tell, Or starves at home, or practises, thro' fear
" And all the wor.ders of a cockle-fell, Of starving, arts which damn all conscience here. 6 Having the Lord's good grace before his eyes, When Scribblers, to the charge by int'rert led, “ Would not the Home step forth, and gain the The fierce North-Briton foaming at their head,
“ prize? Pour forth invectives, deaf to candour's call, " Or if this wreath of honour might adorn And injur'd by one alien, rail at all ;
" The humble brows of one in England born, Oa Northern Pisgah when they take their stand, « Presumptuous still thy daring must appcar ; To mark the weakness of that Holy Land,
“ Vain all thy tow'ring hopes, whilit I am here." With needless truths their libels to adorn,
Thus spake a form, by lilken smile and tone And hang a nation up to public scorn,
Dull and unvaried, for the Laureat known.
In ev'ry party found and yet of none.
From themes too lofty for a bard so meani,
The restless fever of ambition laid,
Now be the Muse disrobid of all her pride,
The cave around with hissing ferpents ringi Be all the glare of verse by Truth supplied,
On the damp roof unhealthy vapours hung ; And if plain Nature pours a simple strain,
And FAMINE, by her children always known, Which Bute may praise, and Ofiian not disdain, As proud as poor, here fix'd her native throne. Ofian, sublimefi, fimpleft bard of all,
Here, for the sullen sky was overcast, Whom English infidels Macpherson call,
And summer shrunk beneath a wint'ry blast,
Beat unrelenting on the naked swain,
Of which those shepherds every day take keep,
Sith to this cave, by tempest, we're confin'd, To spin out life, and starve themselves and flocks, And within ken our flocks, under the wind, Fresh as the morning, which, enrob'd in mist, Safe from the pelting of this perilous storm, The mountain's top with usual dulness kiss'd, Are laid emong yon thidles dry and warm, Jockey and Sawney to their labours rose;
What, Sawney, if by shepherd's art we try
Well doft thou fing, nor ill doth Jockey playe
S A WN EY.
Ah, Jockey, ill advises thou, I wis, E'en from the rising to the setting day;
To think of songs at such a time as this. Sawney as long without remorse could bawl
Sooner shall herbage crown these barren rocks, Home's madrigals, and ditties from Fingal.
Sooner shall Aleeces cloath these ragged Rocks, Oft at his strains, all natural tho' rude,
Sooner thall want seize shepherds of the south, The Highland lass forgot her want of food,
And we forget to live from hand to mouth, And, whilft she scratch'd her lover into rest, Than Sawney, out of season, hall impart Sunk pleas'd, tho' hungry, on her Sawney's breast. The songs of gladness with an aching heart. Far as the eye could reach, no tree was seen,
Still have I known thee for a filly swain ;
Of things past help, what boots it to complain?
Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune's spite ; No living thing, whate'er its food, feasts there, But the Cameleon, who can feast on air.
No sky is heavy, if the heart be light:
Patience is forrow's salve; what can't be cur'd, No birds, except as birds of passage, flew, No bee was known to hum, no dove to coo.
So Donald right areeds, must be endur'd. No streams as amber smooth, as amber clear,
SAW N E Y. Were seen to glide, or heard to warble here.
Full Gilly fwain, I wot, is Jockey now; Rebellion's spring, which through the country ran,
How didit thou bear thy Maggy's fallhood ? how, Furnith'd with bitter draughts, the steady clan.
When with a foreign loon the stole away, No flow'rs embalm'd the air, but one white rose,
Did'It thou forswear thy pipe and shepherd's lay? Which on the 10th of June by inftin& blows, Where was thy boasted wisdom then, when I By instinct blows at morn, and, when the shades
Applied those proverbs, which you now apply? Of drizzly eve prevail, by instinct fades. One, and but one poor solitary cave,
JOCKEY. Too sparing of her favours, Nature gave ;
O she was bonny! All the Highlands round That one alone (hard tax on Scottish pride !), Was there a rival to my Maggy found ! Shelter at once for man and beast fupplied.
More precious (tho' that precious is to all) Their snares without entangling briers spread, Than the rare med'cine which we Brimstone call, And thiftles, arm'd against the invader's head. Or that choice plant, so grateful to the nose, Stood in close ranks all entrance to oppose,
Which in I know not what far country grows, Thistles now held more precious than the rose. Was Maggy unto me; dear do I rue, All creatures which, on Nature's earliest plan, A lass so fair should ever prove untrue. Were form’d to loath, and to be loath'd by man, Which ow'd their birth to nastiness and spite,
SAWNEY. Deadly to touch, and hateful to the fight,
Whether with pipe or fong to charm the ear, Creatures, which when admitted in the ark, Thro' all the land did Jamie find a peer ? Their Saviour shunn'd, and rankled in the dark, Çurs'd be that year by ev'ry honest Scot, Found place within : marking her noisome road And in the shepherd's calendar forgot, With poison's trail, here crawl'd the bloated toad; That fatal year, when Jamie, hapless swain, There webs were spread of more than common size, In evil hour forlook the peaceful plain. And half-starv'd spiders prey'd on half-starv'd fies; Jamie, when our young Laird discreetly filed, In quest of food, efts strove in vain to crawl ; Was seiz'd and hang'd till he was dead, dead, Slugs, plach'd with hunger, smear'd the nimy wall ; dead.
JOCX I Y.
There, like the Sons of Israel, having trod, Full forely may we all lament that day;
For the fix'd term of years ordaind by God, For all were losers in the deadly fray.
A barren defert, we shall seize rich plains, Five brothers had 1, on the Scottish plains,
Where milk with honey flows, and plenty reigns. Well Joft thou know were none more hopeful fwains; With some few natives join'd, some pliare few, Five brothers there I loft, in manhood's pride, Who worship int'rest, and our track pursue, Two in the field, and three on gibbets died : There shall we, tho' the wretched people grieve, Al! filly swains, to follow war's alarms!
Ravage at large, nor ask the owners leave.
For us, the flocks shall wear a golden flecce;
Fat beeves shall yield us dainties not our own,
For our advantage snall their harvests grow,
And Scotsmen reap what they disdain'd to fow; Unwilling grace the aukward victor's side.
For us, the sun hall climb the cartera hill; There fell our choicest youth, and from that day For us, the rain shall fall, the dew diftil; Mate never Sawney tune the merry lay ;
When to our wishes Nature cannot rise, Biels'd those which fell! curs'd those which still sur- Art shall be task'd to grant us fresh supplies. vive,
His brawny arm thall drudging Labour train,
And for our plealure suffer daily pain;
Her's all the toil, and all the profit, our's ; Thus plain'd the Boys, when from her throne of For us, the oak shall from his native step turf,
Descend, and fearless travel thro' the deep; With boils emboss'd, and overgrown with scurf, The fail of Commerce for our use unfurl'd, Vile humours, which, in life's corrupted well, Shall waft the treasures of each distant world; Mix'd at the birth, noi abstinence could quell, For us, sublimer heights shall Science reach, Pale FAMINE rear'd the head : her eager eyes, For us, their Statesmen plot, their Churchmen Where hunger e'en to madness seem'd to risc,
preach; Speaking aloud her throes and pangs of heart, Their noblest limbs of counsel we'll disjoint, Strain'd to get loose, and from their orbs to start ; And, mocking, new ones of our own appoint ; Her hollow cheeks were each a deep-funk cell, Devouring War, imprifon'd in the north, Where wretchedness and horror lov'd to dwell; Shall, at our call, in horrid pomp break forth, With double rows of useless teeth supplied,
And, when, his chariot wheels with thunder hung, Her mouth, from ear to ear, extended wide, Fell Discord braying with her brazen tongue, Which, when for want of food her entrails pin'd, Death in the van, with Anger, Hatc, and Fear, She op'd, and cursing swallow'd nought but wind; And Desolation stalking in the rear. All shrivell’d was her skin, and here and there, Revenge, by Justice guided, in his train, Making their way by force, her bones lay bare : He drives impetuous o'er the trembling plain, Such filthy fight to hide from human view,
Shall, at our bidding, quit his lawful prey O'er her foul limbs a catter'd plaid the threw. And to meek, gentle, gen'rous Peace give way.
Cease, cried the goddess, ceafe, despairing (wains, Think not, my fons, that this so bless'd estate And from a parent hear what Jove ordains !
Stands at a distance on the roll of fate; Pent in this barren corner of the isle,
Already big with hopes of future fway, Where partial fortune never deigned to smile ; E’en from this cave I scent my deštin'd prey. Like Nature's bastards, reaping for our share
Think not, that this dominion o'er a race, What was rejected by the lawful heir ;
Whose former deeds shall Time's last annals grace, Unknown amongft the nations of the earth,
In the rough face of peril must be sought, Or only known to raise contempt and mirth; And with the lives of thousands dearly bought ; Long free, because the race of Roman braves Non-fool'd by cunning, by that happy art Thought it not worth their while to make us Naves ; Which laugh's to scorn the blundering hero's heart. Then into bondage by that nation brought,
Into the snare shall our kind neighbours fall Whose ruin we for ages vainly fought ;
With open eyes, and fondly give us all. Whom ftill with unllack'd heat we view, and still, When Rome, to prop her sinking empire, bore The pow'r of mischief loft, retain the will ; Their choiceft levies to a foreign shore, Consider'd as the refuse of mankind,
What if we seiz'd, like a destroying flood, A mass till the last moment left behind,
Their widow'd plains, and fill’d the realm with blood Which frugal Nature doubted, as it lay,
Gave an unbounded loose to manly rage, Whether to stamp with life, or throw away ; And scorning mercy, spar'd nor sex nor age; Which, form'd in haste, was planted in this nook, When, for our int'rest too mighty grown, But never enter'd in Creation's book;
Monarchs of warlike bent possess'd the throne, Branded as traitors, who for love of gold
What if we strove divisions to foment,
And pitch'd her standard in the fields of France ;
What if, disdaining caths, and empty sound, Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear,
So nice is Jealousy, a rival there.
Be wicked as thou wilt, do all that's base, Thro' the weak land, and brought cheap laurels Proclaim thyself the monster of thy race ; home;
Let Vice and Folly thy black soul divide, When the bold traitors leagu'd for the defence Be proud with meanness, and be mean with pride ; Of Law, Religion, Liberty and Sense,
Deaf to the voice of faith and honour, fall When they against their lawful monarch rose, From side to fide, yet be of none at all ; And dar'd the Lord's Anointed to oppose,
Spurn all those charities, those sacred ties, What if we still rever'd the banish'd race,
Which Nature in her bounty, good as wise, And strove the Royal Vagrants to replace,
To work our safety, and ensure her plan, With fierce rebellions shook th'unsettled state,
Contriv'd to bind, and rivet man to man ;
And, in one gen’ral comprehensive line,
To group, which volumes scarcely could define, In the dull region of an English brain.
Whate'er of sin and dullness can be said, Bless’d with that faith, which mountains can remove, Join to a F's heart a D. -'s head ; First they shall dupes, next fairts, lait martyrs prove. Yet may'st thou pass unnotic'd in the throng, Already is this game of fate begun
And free from envy, safely sneak along. Under the sanction of my darling fon :
The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shewn That fon of nature royal as his name,
To faints whose lives are better than his own, Is deftin'd to redeem our race from shame;
Shall spare thy crimes ; and Wit, who never once His boundless pow'r, beyond example great, Forgave a brother, shall forgive a dunce. Shall make the rough way smooth, the crooked But should thy soul, form'd in some luckless hour, ftraight,
Vile int'rest scorn, nor madly gratp at pow'r ; Shall for our ease the raging floods restrain, Should love of fame, in ev'ry noble mind And fink the mountain level to the plain.
A brave disease, with love of virtue join'd, Discord, whom in a cavern under ground
Spur thee to deeds of pith, where courage, tried With masly fetters their late Patriot bound,
In Reason's court, is amply justified ; Where her own flesh the furious hag might tear, Or fond of knowledge, and averse to ftrife, And vent her curses to the vacant air,
Should'st thou prefer the calmer walk of life ; Where, that the never might be heard of more, Should'it thou, by pale and fickly Study led, He planted Loyalty to guard the door,
Pursue coy Science to the fountain-head ; For better purpose ihall our Chief release,
Virtue thy Guide, and Public Good thy end, Disguise her for a time, and call her Peace. Should ev'ry thought to our improvement tend,
Lurd by that name, fine engine of deceit, To curb the passions, to enlarge the mind, Shall the weak English help themselves to cheat ; Purge the fick weal, and humanize mankind : To gain our love, with honours shall they grace Rage in her eye, and malice in her breast, The old adherents of the Stuart race,
Redoubled horror grinning on her crest, Who pointed out, no matter by what name, Fiercer each snake, and tharper ev'ry cart, Tories or Jacobites are still the same,
Quick from her cell Mall maddening Envy start. To soothe cur rage, the temporising brood
Then shalt thou find, but find alas ! too late, Shall break the ties of truth and gratitude,
How vain is worth ! how short is glory's date! Against their Saviour venom'd falsehoods frame, Then shalt thou find, whilft friends with foes conAnd brand with calumny their William's name;
spire To win oar grace, (rare argument of wit)
To give more proof than virtue would defire, To our untainted faith shall they commit
Thy danger chiefly lies in acting well ; (Our faith which in extremeft perils tried,
No crime's so great as daring to excel. Disdain'd, and fill disdains, to change her fide) Whilft Satire thus disdaining mean controul, That sacred Majesty they all approve,
Urg'd the free dictates of an honeft soul,
Still thinks the best, when'er she thinks at all,
Thy malice to indulge, and feed thy pride,
Can'st thou, severe by Nature as thou art,
To spin detraction forth from themes of praise,
And draw the hag much larger than the life, MONGST the fons of men how few are known To make the good seem bad, the bad seem worse,
And represent our nature as our curse? Superior virtue and superior sense
Doth not humanity condemn that zeal Toknaves and fools will always give offence ; Which tends to aggravate and not to heal ?
Doth not discretion warn thee of disgrace, Had I (damn'd then) in thought debas'd my lays, And danger grinning ftare thee in the face ;
To wound that sex which honour bids me praise ;
Had I (which Satirits of mighty name,
A noble friend, and made his foibles known,
I ne'er will spare, those vipers to their King, When privilege is little more than name?
Wko smooth their looks, and Aatter whilft they Or to prerogative (that glorious ground
fting. On which itate-scoundrels oft have safety found) Or had I not taught patriot zeal to boult Do'st thou pretend, and there a sanction find, Of those, who flatter least, but love him most; Cnpunish'd, thus to libel human kind ?
Had I thus finn'd, my stubborn soul should bend When poverty, the poet's constant crime, At Candour's voice, and take, as from a friend, Compelld thee, all unfit, to trade in rime,
The deep rebuke ; myself should be the first Had not romantic notions turn'd thy head,
To hate myself, and Atamp my Muse accurs’d.Had it thou not valu'd honour more than bread, But thall my arm--forbid it manly pride, Had int'rest, pliant int’rest, been thy guide, Forbid it Rcafon, warring on my fileAnd had not prudence been debauch'd by pride, For vengeance lifted high, the stroke forbear, la flattery's Itream thou would't have dipp'd thy And hang suspended in the desart air, pen,
Or to my trembling side unnerv'd fink down, Applied to great, and not to honest men,
Pallied, forsooth, by Candour's half-made frown? Nor should conviction 'have seduc'd thy heart When Justice bids me on, thall I delay To take the weaker cho' the better part.
Because infipid Candour bars my way? What but rank tolly, for thy curse decreed, When she, of all alike the puling friend, Could into Satire's barren path mislead,
Would disappoint my Satire's nobleft end, When, open to thy view, before thee lay
When she to villains would a sanction give, Soul-Soothing Panegyric's flow'ry way?
And shelter those who are not fit to live, There might the Muse have faunter'd at her ease, When she would screen the guilty from a blush, And, pleasing others, learn'd herself to please ; And bids me spare whom Reason bids me crush, Lords should have listen’d to the sugar'd treat, All leagues with Candour proudly I refign; And ladies, limp’ring, own'd it vastly sweet ; She cannot be for honour's turn, nor mine. Regues, in thy prudent verse with virtue grac'd, Yet come, cold monitor, half foc, half friend, Fials, mark'd by thee as prodigies of taste,
Whom Vice can't fear, whom Virtue can't comMust have forbid, pouring preferment down,
mend, Such Wit, luch Truth as thine to quit the gown, Come Candour, by thy dull indiff'rence knowr., Thy sacred brethren too (for they no less
Thou equal-blooded judge, thou lukewarm dronc, Than laymen, bring their offerings to success) Who, fashion'd without feelings, doft expect, Had hail'd thee good if great, and paid the vow We call that Virtue which we know Defect ; Sincere as that they pay to God, whilst thou Come, and observe the nature of our crimes, In lawn hadít whisper'd to a sleeping croud, The gross and rank complexion of the times, As dull as R, and half as proud.
Observe it well, and then review my plan, Peace, Candour !-Wisely had't thou said, and Praise if you will, or censure if you can. well,
Whilft Vice presumptuous lords it as in sport, Could int'rest in this breast one moment dwell, And Piety is only known at court; Could the, with prospect of success, oppose
Whilst wretched Liberty expiring lies The firm resolves which from conviction rose. Beneath the fatal burthen of Excise ; I cannot truckle to a fool of state,
Whilst nobles act without one touch of shame, Nor take a favour from the man I hate.
What men of humble rank would blush to name ; Free leave have others by such means to shine ; Whilft Honour's plac'd in highest point of view, I scorn their practice, they may laugh at mine. Worshipp'd by those, who justice never knew; But in this charge, forgetful of thyself,
Whilft bubbles of distinction waste in play
The hours of reft, and blunder thro' the day,
Merely with ill-got, ill-fav'd wealth to graco
Whilft Martin Aatters only to betray, Join'd tyrant Vice, and added woe to woe;
And Webb gives up his dirty soul for pay ; Had I made Modestyin blushes (peak,
Whilst titles serve to hufh a villain's fears ; And drawn the tear down Beauty's facred cheek; Whilst peers are agente made, and agents peers 3