On Tam The Chapman
As Tam the chapmanon a day, Wi'Death forgather'd bythe way, Weelpleas'd, he greets a wightso famous, And Death was naeless pleas'd wi'Thomas, Whacheerfully lays down his pack, And there blaws up a hearty crack: His social, friendly, honest heart Saetickled Death, they could napart; Sae, after viewing knives and garters, Death taks him hameto giehim
Reply To An Announcement By J. Rankine
I am a keeper of the law In some sma'points, altho' not a'; Some people tell me ginI fa', Ae way or ither, The breaking of aepoint, tho' sma', Breaks a'thegither. I haebeen in for't anceortwice, And winnasay o'er far for thrice; Yet never met wi'that surprise That broke my rest; Butnow a rumour's like
The Belles Of Mauchline
In Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles, The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a'; Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess, In Lon'onorParis, they'd gottenit a'. Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland's divine, Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw: There's beauty and fortune to getwi'Miss Morton, ButArmour's
The Mauchline Lady
When first I came to Stewart Kyle, My mindit was nasteady; Where'er I gaed, where'er I rade, A mistress still I had aye. Butwhen I came roun'by Mauchline toun, Not dreadin anybody, My heart was caught, before I thought, And bya Mauchline lady.
On My Ever Honoured Father
O ye whose cheek the tear of pity stains, Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend! Here lie the loving husband's dear remains, The tender father, and the gen'rous friend; The pitying heart that felt for human woe, The dauntless heart that fear'd nohuman pride; The friend of man-to vice alone a foe; For "ev'n
A Poet’s Welcome To His Love-Begotten Daughter^1
Thou's welcome, wean; mishanterfa'me, If thoughts o' thee, or yet thy mamie, Shall ever dauntonme or aweme, My bonie lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me Tyta ordaddie. Tho' now they ca'me fornicator, An' tease my name in kintry clatter, The mair they talk, I'm kent the better, E'enlet them clash; Anauldwife's
Another [Epigram On The Said Occasion… On A Henpecked Country Squire]
One Queen Artemisia, as old stories tell, When deprived of her husband she loved so well, In respect for the love and affection he show'd her, She reduc'd him to dust and she drank up the powder. ButQueen Netherplace, of a diff'rent complexion, When called on to order the fun'ral direction, Would have eat her