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ers, particularly the Learned and the Polite, who may honor him with a perusal, that they will make every allowance for Education and Circumstances of Life: but, if after a fair, candid, and impartial criticism, he shall stand convicted of Dulness and Nonsense, let him be done by, as he would in that case do by others—let him be condemned, without mercy, to contempt and oblivion.

***

C Ο Ν Τ Ε Ν Τ S.

22

IOI

The Twa Dogs, a Tale,

page 9 Scotch Drink, The Author's earnest cry and

prayer, to the right honorable and honorable, the Scotch

representatives in the House of Commons, 29 The Holy Fair,

40 Address to the Deil,

55 The death and dying words of Poor Maillie, 62 Poor Maillie's Elegy,

66 To J. S****

69 A Dream,

79 The Vision,

87 Halloween, The auld Farmer's new-year-morning Salu

tation, to his auld Mare, Maggy,on giving her the accustomed ripp of Corn to han

fel in the new year, The Cotter's Saturday night, inscribed to R. A. Efq;

I 24 To a Mouse, on turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November, 1785,

138 Epistle to Davie, a brother Poet,

141 The Lament, occasioned by the unfortunate issue of a friend's amour,

150 Despondency, an Ode,

156 Man was made to mourn, a Dirge,

16о

118

Τ Η Ε

T W A D O G S,

A

T A L E.

'T"

WAS in that place o' Scotland's isle,
That bears the name o' auld king

COIL,
Upon a bonie day in June,
When wearing thro' the afternoon,
Iwa Dogs, that were na thrang at hame,
Forgather'd ance upon a time.

A

The first I'll name, they ca'd him Cæfar,
Was keepet for His Honor's pleasure ;
His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs,
Shew'd he was nane o' Scotland's dogs,
But whalpet some place far abroad,
Where sailors gang to fish for Cod.

His locked, letter'd, braw brass-collar
Shew'd him the gentleman anscholar;
But tho' he was o' high degree,
The fient a pride na pride had he,
But wad hae spent an hour caressan,
Év'n wi' a Tinkler-gipsey's messan :
At Kirk or Market, Mill or Smiddie,
Nae tawted tyke, tho' e'er sae duddie,
But he wad stan't, as glad to see him,
An' stroan't on ftanes an' hillocks wi' him.

The tither was a ploughman's collie,
A rhyming, ranting, raving billie,
Wha for his friend an' comrade had him,
And in his freaks had Luath ca'd him,

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