Yet ne'er with wits profane to range, An Atheist's laugh 's a poor exchange X. When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded; Or if she gie a random sting, But when on life we're tempest-driv'n, Is sure a noble anchor! XI. Adieu, dear, amiable youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting: May prudence, fortitude, and truth, In ploughman phrase, God send you speed,' And may you better reck the rede, Than ever did th' adviser! ON A SCOTCH BARD, GONE TO THE WEST INDIES. A'YE wha live by soups o' drink, A' Come mourn wi' me! Our billie's gien us a' a jink, An' owre the sea. Lament Wha dearly like a random-splore, Nae mair he'll join the merry roar, In social key; For now he's taen anither shore, An' owre the sea. The bonnie lasses weel may wiss him, And in their dear petitions place him: The widows, wives, an' a' may bless him, Wi' tearfu' e'e; For weel I wat they'll sairly miss him That's owre the sea. O Fortune, they hae room to grumble! Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle, Wha can do nought but fyke an' fumble, 'Twad been nae plea; But he was gleg as ony wumble, That's owre the sea. Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers wear, An' stain them wi' the saut, saut tear; Twill mak her poor auld heart I fear, In flinders flee; He was her laureat monie a year, That's owre the sea. He He saw misfortune's cauld nor-west Ill may she be! So, took a birth afore the mast, An' owre the sea. To tremble under Fortune's cummock, So, row't his hurdies in a hammock, An' owre the sea. He ne'er was gien to great misguiding, The muse was a' that he took pride in, That's owre the sea. Jamaica bodies, use him weel, An' hap him in a cozie biel: Ye'll find him ay a dainty chiel, And fou' o' glee; He wad na wrang'd the vera deil, That's owre the sea. Fareweel, |