A bard was felected to witness the fiay, The dinner being over, the claret they ply, And every new cork is a new fpring of joy; In the bands of old friendship and kindred fo fet, And the bands grew the tighter the more they were wet. Gay Pleasure ran riot as bumpers ran o'er ; Bright Phœbus ne'er witneffed so joyous a corps, And vowed that to leave them he was quite forlorn, Till Cynthia hinted he'd fee them next morn. Six bottles a-piece had well wore out the night, When gallant Sir Robert, to finish the fight, Turned o'er in one bumper a bottle of red, And swore 'twas the way that their ancestor did. Then worthy Glenriddel, fo cautious and fage, He left the foul bufinefs to folks lefs divine. The gallant Sir Robert fought hard to the end; But who can with Fate and Quart Bumpers contend? Though Fate, faid a hero, fhould perifh in light; So uprose bright Phoebus-and down fell the knight. : Next uprofe our Bard, like a prophet in drink:66 Craigdarroch, thou'lt foar when creation fhall fink; "But if thou would flourish immortal in rhyme, "Come-one bottle more- and have at the fublime! "Thy line, that has ftruggled for freedom with "Bruce "Shall heroes and patriots ever produce: "So thine be the laurel, and mine be the bay; "The field thou haft won, by yon bright god of "day!" D EL I A. FAI AIR the face of orient day; Fair the tints of opening rose; But fairer ftill my DELIA dawnsMore lovely far her beauty blows. Sweet the lark's wild, warbled lay; The flower-enamour'd bufy bee But DELIA on thy balmy lips, O let me fteal one liquid kiss! For ah! my foul is parch'd with love. SONG. A ROSE-BUD by my early wauk, Adown a corn-inclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny ftauk, Ere twice the fhades o' dawn are fled, Within the bush her covert neft The dew fat chilly on her breaft, She foon fhall fee her tender brood, So thou dear bird young Jenny, fair, That tents thy early morning. So thou fweet rofe bud, young and gay, Shalt beauteous blaze upon the day, And blefs the parent's evening ray That watch'd thy early morning. MUSING S ON G. USING on the roaring Ocean, Which divides my love and me; Wearying in warm devotion, For his weal where'er he be. Hope and Fear's alternate billow Ye whom Sorrow never wounded; Gentle night do you befriend me ; WILLY brew'd a peck o' mault, And Rab and Allan cam to fee; Three blyther hearts that lee lang night Ye wadna found in Chriftendie. CHORUS. 'We are na' fou, we're nae that fou But just a drappie in our e'e; The cock may craw, the day may daw, Yet ay we'll tafte the barley brie. |