Argument. Holy Willie was a rather oldish bachelor elder, in the parish of Mauchline, and much and justly famed for that polemical chattering, which ends in tippling orthodoxy, and for that spiritualized bawdry which refines to liquorish devotion. In a sessional process with a gentleman in Mauchline-a Mr.Gavin Hamilton-Holy Willie and his priest, Father Auld,
One night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon anauld tree root; AuldAyr ran bybefore me, And bicker'd to the seas; A cushatcroodedo'er me, That echoed throughthe braes
There was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o' whatnastyle, I doubt it's hardly worththe while To be saenice wi'Robin. Chor. - Robin was a rovin' boy, Rantin', rovin', rantin', rovin', Robin was a rovin' boy, Rantin', rovin', Robin! Our monarch's hindmost year but ane Was five-and-twenty days begun^2, 'Twas then a
Let other poets raisea fracas "Bout vines, an' wines, an' drucken Bacchus, An' crabbit names an'stories wrack us, An' grate our lug: I sing the juice Scotch bearcan mak us, In glass or jug. O thou, my muse! guidauld Scotch drink! Whether thro' wimplin worms thou jink, Or, richly brown, reamowre the brink, In glorious
Auld Neibour, I'm three times doubly o'er your debtor, For your auld-farrant, frien'ly letter; Tho' I maun say't I doubt ye flatter, Ye speak sae fair; For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter Some less maunsair. Hale be your heart, halebe your fiddle, Langmay your elbuckjinkdiddle, To cheer you thro' the weary widdle O' war'ly cares;
While new-ca'dkyerowteat the stake An' pownies reekin pleughor braik, This hour on e'enin's edge I take, To own I'm debtor To honest-hearted, auld Lapraik, For his kind letter. Forjesketsair, with weary legs, Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs, Or dealing thro' amang the naigs Their ten-hours' bite, My awkartMuse sairpleads and begs I would nawrite.
My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend! No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene, The native feelings strong, the guileless ways, What Aikenin a cottage
A robe of seeming truth and trust Hid crafty Observation; And secret hung, with poison'd crust, The dirk of Defamation: A mask that like the gorget show'd, Dye-varying on the pigeon; And for a mantle large and broad, He wrapt him in Religion. Hypocrisy A-La-Mode Upon a simmerSunday morn When Nature's face is fair, I
Recitativo When lyartleaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauldBoreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter skyte, And infant frosts begin to bite, In hoary cranreuchdrest; Aenight at e'ena merry core O' randie, gangrelbodies, In Poosie-Nansie's held the splore, To drink their orraduddies; Wi' quaffing an' laughing, They ranted an' they sang,