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Conceited gowk !e puff'd up wi' windy pride! This monie a year I 've stood the flood an' tide; And tho' wi' crazy eildf I'm sair forfairn,g I'll be a brig when ye 're a shapeless cairn;" As yet ye little ken about the matter, But twa-three winters will inform ye better. When heavy, dark, continued, a'-day rains, Wi' deepening deluges o'erflow the plains; When from the hills where springs the brawling Or stately Lugar's mossy fountains boil, [Coil, Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course, Or haunted Garpali draws his feeble source, Arous'd by blust'ring winds an' spotting thowes,k In monie a torrent down his snaw-broo rowes;1 While crashing ice, borne on the roaring speat, in Sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate; And from Glenbuck," down to the Ratton-key, Auld Ayr is just one lengthen'd, tumbling sea; Then down ye 'll hurl-deil nor ye never rise! And dash the gumlie jaupsP up to the pouring skies: A lesson sadly teaching, to your cost,
That architecture's noble art is lost.
Fine architecture! trowth, I needs must say't o't, The L-d be thankit that we 've tint the gateq o't! Gaunt, ghastly, ghaist-alluring edifices, Hanging with threat'ning jut, like precipices;
e Cuckoo; applied as a term of contempt.
g Worn out.
f Old age. h A loose heap of stones. The banks of Garpal Water is one of the few places in the west of Scotland, where those fancy-scaring beings, known by the name of Ghaists, still continue pertinaciously to inhabit.
m A sweeping torrent after a thaw.
A small landing-place above the large quay.
p The muddy jerks of agitated water. q Lost the way of it.
O'er-arching, mouldy, gloom-inspiring coves,
O ye, my dear-remember'd ancient yealings," Were ye but here to share my wounded feelings! Ye worthy Proveses, an' monie a Bailie, Wha in the paths of righteousness did toil ay; Ye dainty Deacons, and ye doucew Conveeners, To whom our moderns are but causey-cleaners; Ye godly Councils wha hae bless'd this town, Ye godly Brethren of the sacred gown, Wha meekly gae your hurdies to the smiters; And (what would now be strange) ye godly
A' ye douce folk I've borne aboon the broo, Were ye but here, what would you say or do? How would your spirits groan in deep vexation, To see such melancholy alteration;
x The loin
And, agonizing, curse the time and place
Meet owre a pint, or in the council-house;
Men, three-parts made by tailors and by barbers, Wha waste your weel-hain'd gear on d-d new brigs and harbours!
Now haudd you there! for faith ye 've said enough,
Men wha grew wise priggin' owre hops an' raisins,
Plain, dull Stupidity stept kindly in to aid them.
What farther clishmaciaverm might been said, What bloody wars, if sprites had blood to shed,
y Broad. z Wise, prudent. a Half-witted. b Plunderers. c Well-saved money. d Hold. e Much. f Make out, or prove. species of crows.
h Ticklish, difficult to come at. l Offered.
i To have.
an idie tale.
No man can tell; but all before their sight,
Or when they struck old Scotia's melting airs,
No guess could tell what instrument appear❜d.
While simple melody pour'd moving on the heart
Next follow'd Courage with his martial stride, from where the Feal wild-woody coverts hide;
A well-known performer of Scottish music on the violin.
p Ear. 9 Sea-weed. Field, meadow.
Benevolence, with mild, benignant air,
A female form, came from the tow'rs of Stair Learning and Worth in equal measures trode From simple Catrine, their long-lov'd abode : Last, white-rob'd Peace, crown'd with a hazel To rustic Agriculture did bequeath [wreath,
The broken iron instruments of Death; At sight of whom our Sprites forgat their kindling wrath.
Written with a pencil, standing by the Fall of Fyers,
AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods
Prone down the rock the whit'ning sheet descends,
Written with a pencil, over the chimney-piece, in the parlour of an inn at Kenmore, Taymouth.
ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace,
ill fam'd Breadalbane opens to my view.-