« FöregåendeFortsätt »
Though by His wisdom and unrivalled might,
Hence to supply in being's endless chain
That link essential of unvalued worth—
To perfect all, and gloriously maintain
A moral sympathy 'tween heaven and earth,
Man the eternal Triune summoned forth,
Immaculate, to life without a stain,
With conscious innocence supremely blessed—
Who, while through Eden's fragrant bowers he trod,
Reflected bright the image of his God,
Who then amid the joys ecstatic there
This consummated, the stupendous whole
Appeared as supereminently good;
Harmonious, owning all the grand control
Of boundless knowledge, skill, and rectitude,
Which, when adoring seraphs had reviewed,
One common transport thrilled through every soul,
All with celestial acclamations rang;
Hence passed the sixth in rapture thus away—
Jehovah rested on the seventh day.
►VER galling, bawling, brawling
Ever mumbling, grumbling, stumbling
Ever ready, greedy, speedy
Ever trying, lying, flying
Ever warping, harping, carping,
Imp of darkness, reckless fury.
By the rudest passions tossed,
Long to every virtue lost.
Living bane of every pleasure,
Pall of every joy to me,
Sympathy 'tween you and me.
TO THE HONOURABLE COMMISSIONERS OF COLDSTREAM.
fOST honoured, most illustrious band,
Ye're weel deservin 't.
Our hand-waled few wha Caldstream mense,
Should tak at me.
I spurn, I hate them, and abhor,
My guid opinion
Ilk servile minion.
I glory in extolling merit,
And aye where praise is due confer it;
A public, independent spirit,
Ye will allow,
But mair sae you.
And farther, to adorn your station,
Ye surely need,
Should turn your head.
But, please your honours, dinna fear,
Ye shine fu' braw;
Anent the law.
Frae beds the finest marble torn,
The purest gold that can adorn
The monarch's crown,
To art their charms they owe in turn;
But vain for genius formal rules—
Away the drudgery of schools;
Ye ne'er required sic stappin' stools,
Nor took sic pains, As Nature's counterfeits and fools,
To rack your brains.
O why attempt the snaw to whiten,
And wondrous silly,
Or " paint the lily."
Wi' double reverence be it spoken,
Cursed be the wretch that daurs to mock on,
Has Caldstream no had every token,
I need na hint it, That you by Nature, without jokin',
Aff hand were minted?
But wae's me !—damn ingratitude,—
Despite your pains,