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THE following poems, found among the MSS of Mr. Burns, are now for the first time presented to the Public.

Copy of a poetical address to Mr. William Tytler, with the present of the bard's picture.

REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart,
Of Stuart, a name once respected,

A name, which to love was the mark of a true heart,
But now 'tis despised and neglected:

Tho' some thing like moisture conglobes in my eye, Let no one misdeem me disloyal;

A poor friendless wand'rer may well claim a sigh, Still more, if that wand'rer were royal.

My fathers, that name have rever'd on a throne; My fathers have fallen to right it;

Those fathers would spurn their degenerate son, That name should he scoffingly slight it.

Still

Still in prayers for K-G- I most heartily join, The Q-, and the rest of the gentry,

Be they wise, be they foolish, is nothing of mine; Their title's avow'd by my country.

But why of that epocha make such a fuss,

But loyalty truce! we're on dangerous ground,
Who knows how the fashions may alter,
The doctrine, to day, that is loyalty sound,
To-morrow may bring us a halter.

I send you a trifle, a head of a bard,
A trifle scarce worthy your care;
But accept it, good sir, as a mark of regard,
Sincere as a saint's dying prayer.

Now life's chilly evening dim shades on your eye, And ushers the long dreary night;

But

you like the star that athwart gilds the sky,

Your course to the latest is bright.

My

My muse jilted me here, and turned a corner on me, and I have not got again into her good graces. Do me the justice to believe me sincere in my grateful remembrance of the many civilities you have honoured me with since I came to Edinburgh, and in assuring you that I have the honor to be

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