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Here's to budgets, bags, and wallets !

Here's to all the wandering train !
Here's our ragged brats and callets !

One and all cry out—Amen!
A fig for those by law protected !

Liberty's a glorious feast !
Courts for cowards were erected,

Churches built to please the priest.

THE VISION. In consequence of his quarrel with the father of Jean Armour, and the unfortunate condition of his love affairs, the allusion to Jean which appeared in the first edition,

“Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen,

Till half a leg was scrimply seen,
And such a leg! my bonny Jean

Could only peer it ;
Sae straught, sae taper, tight, and clean,

Nane else cam near it-"

was removed in the next issue of his poems, the name of another charmer being introduced. When the course of his love ran smoother, Jean's name was re-introduced, never more to give way to another.

In a letter to Mrs. Dunlop, in alluding to the fact that one of her daughters was engaged on a picture representing one of the incidents in “The Vision," Burns says :-"I am highly flattered by the news you tell me of Coila. I may say to the fair painter who does me so much honour, as Dr. Beattie says to Ross, * the poet, of his Muse Scota, from which, by the by, I took the idea of Coila ; ('tis a poem of Beattie's in the Scottish dialect, which perhaps you have never seen):

*Ye shake your head, but o' my fegs,
Ye've set auld Scota on her legs;
Lang had she lien wi' buffs and flegs,

Bumbazed and dizzie ;
Her fiddle wanted strings and pegs-

Wae's me, poor hizzie ?!"

The sun had closed the winter day,

The curlers quat their roaring play, #
And hunger'd maukin' ta'en her way

To kail-yards green,
While faithless snaws ilk step betray

Whare she has been.

1 Hare. * Ross, the author of a popular poem in the Scottish dialect, entitled “Helenore; or, The Fortunate Shepherdess.

Duan, a term of Ossian's for the different divisions of a digressive poem. See his “ Cathloda," vol. ii. of Macpherson's translation.-B.

Curling is a wintry game peculiar to the southern counties of Scotland. When the ice is sufficiently strong on the lochs, a number of individuals, each provided with a large stone of the shape of an oblate spheroid, sinoothed at the bottom, range themselves on two sides, and being furnished with handles, play against each other. The game resembles bowls, but is much more animated, and keenly enjoyed. It is well characterised by the poet as a roaring play.

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The thrasher's weary Aingin’-tree?
The lee-lang day had tired me;
And when the day had closed his ee,

Far i' the west,
Ben i' the spence,” right pensivelie,

I gaed to rest.
There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek, 3
I sat and eyed the spewing reek,
That fill’d, wi' hoast-provoking smeek,

The auld clay biggin';
And heard the restless rattons squeak

About the riggin'.
All in this mottie, misty clime,
I backward mused on wasted time,
How I had spent my youthfu' prime,

And done naething,
But stringin' blethers? up in rhyme,

For fools to sing.

Had I to guid advice but harkit,
I might by this hae led a market,
Or strutted in a bank, and clerkit

My cash-account:
While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarkit,

Is a' th' amount.

I started, muttering, Blockhead ! coof!8
And heaved on high my waukit loof,
To swear by a' yon starry roof,

Or some rash aith,
That I henceforth would be rhyme-proof

Till my last breathWhen, click! the string the sneck 10 did draw And, jee ! the door gaed to the wa'; And by my ingle-lowe I saw,

Now bleezin' bright,
A tight, outlandish hizzie, braw,

Come full in sight.
Ye needna doubt, I held my whisht;
The infant aith, half-form'd, was crusht;
I glower'd as eerie's I'd been dusht 11

In some wild glen;
When sweet, like modest Worth, she blusht,

And stepped ben.12

1 The flail.
2 The parlour.
8 Fireside.
4 Belching smoke.

6 Cough-provoking smoke. 9 Hardened palm,

10 Latch.
6 Hazy.
7 Nonsense.

11 Frightened. 8 Fool.

13 Into the room.

Green, slender, leaf-clad holly-boughs
Were twisted gracefu' round her brows-
I took her for some Scottish Muse,

By that same token:
And come to stop those reckless vows,

Would soon be broken.
A “hare-brain'd, sentimental trace"
Was strongly marked in her face;
A wildly-witty, rustic grace

Shone full upon her;
Her eye e'en turn'd on empty space,

Beam'd keen with honour.
Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen,
Till half a leg was scrimplyl seen;
And such a leg! my bonny Jean

Could only peer it;
Sae straught, sae taper, tight, and clean,

Nane else cam near it.
Her mantle large, of greenish hue,
My gazing wonder chiefly drew;
Deep lights and shades, bold-mingling threw

A lustre grand;
And seem'd, to my astonish'd view,

A well-known land.
Here, rivers in the sea were lost;
There, mountains to the skies were tost :
Here, tumbling billows mark'd the coast,

With surging foam ;
There, distant shone Art's lofty boast,

The lordly dome. Here, Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd soods ; There, well-fed Irwine stately thuds:2 Auld hermit Ayr staw3 through his woods,

On to the shore ;
And many a lesser torrent scuds,

With seeming roar.
Low, in a sandy valley spread,
An ancient borough * rear'd her head :
Still, as in Scottish story read,

She boasts a race
To every nobler virtue bred,

And polish'd grace.
By stately tower or palace fair,
Or ruins pendent in the air,

1 Scantly

2 Sounds.

3 Stole.

* The town of Ayr.

Bold stems of heroes, here and there,

I could discern;
Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare,

With features stern.
My heart did glowing transport feel,
To see a race* heroic wheel,
And brandish round the deep-dyed steel

In sturdy blows;
While back-recoiling seem'd to reel

Their suthron foes.

His country's saviour, + mark him well!
Bold Richardton's I heroic swell;
The chief on Sark & who glorious fell,

In high command;
And he whom ruthless fates expel

His native land.
There, where a sceptred Pictish shade ||
Stalk'd round his ashes lowly laid,
I mark'd a martial race, portray'd

In colours strong;
Bold, soldier-featured, undismay'd

They strode along.
Through many a wild romantic grove, T
Near many a hermit-fancied cove,
(Fit haunts for friendship or for love,)

In musing mood,
An aged judge, I saw him rove,

Dispensing good.
With deep-struck reverential awe
The learned sire and son I saw,
To nature's God and nature's law

They gave their lore,
This, all its source and end to draw ;

That, to adore.


* The Wallaces -B.

+ Sir William Wallace.-B. Adam Wallace of Richardton, cousin to the immortal preserver of Scottish independence.-B.

§ Wallace Laird of Craigie, who was second in command, under Douglas, Earl of Ormond, at the famous battle on the banks of Şark, fought in 1448. That glorious victory was principally owing to the judicious conduct and intrepid valour of the gallant Laird of Craigie, wh died of his wounds after the action.-B.

ll Coilus, king of the Picts, from whom the district of Kyle is said to take its name, lies buried, as tradition says, near the family seat of the Montgomeries of Coilsfield, where his burial-place is still shown.-B.

Barskimming, the seat of the late Lord Justice-Clerk. --B. (Sir Thomas Miller of Glenlee, afterwards President of the Court of Session.)

** The Rev. Dr. Matthew Stewart, the celebrated mathematician, and his son Mr. Dugald Stewart, the elegant expositor of the Scottish school of metaphysics, are here meant, their villa of Catrine being situated on the Ayr.

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Brydone's brave ward * I well could spy,
Beneath old Scotia's smiling eye:
Who call'd on Fame, low standing by,

To hand him on,
Where many a patriot name on high

And hero shone.


With musing-deep, astonish'd stare,
I view'd the heavenly seeming fair ;
A whispering throb did witness bear

Of kindred sweet,
When with an elder sister's air

She did me greet :-
“All hail ! my own inspired bard !
In me thy native Muse regard ;
Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard,

Thus poorly low!
I come to give thee such reward

As we bestow.
“Know, the great genius of this land
Has many a light, aërial band,
Who, all beneath his high command,

As arts or arms they understand,

Their labours ply. “They Scotia s race among them share; Some fire the soldier on to dare: Some rouse the patriot up to bare

Corruption's heart :
Some teach the bard, a darling care,

The tunefu' art.
“'Mong swelling floods of reeking gore,
They ardent, kindling spirits, pour ;
Or, 'mid the venal senate's roar,

They, sightless, stand, To mend the honest patriot-lore,

And grace the hand. “ And when the bard, or hoary sage, Charm or instruct the future

age, They bind the wild, poetic rage, Or point the inconclusive page

Full on the eye. “Hence Fullarton, the brave and young ; Hence Dempster's zeal-inspired tongue;

In energy,

* Colonel Fullarton.-B.

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