With pleasure in thy breast diffuses,
And warms thy soul with all the Muses.
Whether to laugh with easy grace,
Thy numbers move the sage's face,
Or bid the softer passions rise,
And ruthless souls with grief surprise,
"Tis Nature's voice distinctly felt,
Through thee, her organ, thus to melt.

Most anxiously I wish to know,
With thee of late how matters go:

How keeps thy much-loved Jean her health?
What promises thy farm of wealth?
Whether the Muse persists to smile,
And all thy anxious cares beguile?
Whether bright fancy keeps alive?
And how thy darling infants thrive?
For me, with grief and sickness spent,
Since I my homeward journey bent,
Spirits depressed no more I mourn,
But vigour, life, and health return.
No more to gloomy thoughts a prey,
I sleep all night and live all day;
By turns my friend and book enjoy,
And thus my circling hours employ;
Happy while yet these hours remain,
If Burns could join the cheerful train,
With wonted zeal, sincere and fervent,
Salute once more his humble servant,

I need na vaunt,

perhaps

spend

giddy

winding

clothes

But I'll sned besoms-thraw saugh woodies,' cut
Before they want.

Lord, help me through this warld o' care!

I'm weary sick o't late and air!

Not but I hae a richer share

Than monie ithers;

But why should ae man better fare,
And a' men brithers?

Come, firm Resolve, take thou the van,
Thou stalk o' carl-hemp2 in man!
And let us mind, faint heart ne'er wan
A lady fair:

Wha does the utmost that he can,

Will whyles do mair.

sometimes

1 Woodies-'two or three willow-twigs twisted together, used for binding the end of a broom or birch besom.'-Dr Jamieson. Burns, in short, avows his willingness to become a broom-maker, rather than allow his children to want.

2 The male hemp, that which bears the seed; 'Ye have a stalk o' carl-hemp in you,' is a Scotch proverb.-Kelly.

But to conclude my silly rhyme
(I'm scant o' verse, and scant o' time),
To make a happy fireside clime

To weans and wife,

That's the true pathos and sublime
Of human life.

My compliments to Sister Beckie;
And eke the same to honest Lucky,
I wat she is a dainty chuckie,1

As e'er tread clay!

And gratefully, my guid auld cockie,

I'm yours for aye.

ROBERT BURNS.

In this light strain-and yet it is a levity involving some very serious things-did Burns write (if our conclusions are correct) the day after he had given vent to the tragic strains To Mary in Heaven. Among Captain Riddel's visitors of this season, was Francis Grose-a broken-down English gentleman who, under the impulse of poverty, had been induced to exercise considerable literary and artistic talents for the benefit of the public. A large work on the Antiquities of England had been completed some years ago. He had also produced a treatise on Arms and Armour, another on Military Antiquities, and several minor works. The genius and social spirit of the man were scarcely more remarkable than his personal figure, which was ludicrously squat and obese. Grose having made an inroad into Scotland, for the purpose of sketching and chronicling its antiquities, Burns met him at Friars' Carse, and was greatly amused by his aspect and conversation. The comic Muse also caught at the antiquarian enthusiasm as a proper subject. The consequence was a poem

1

ON CAPTAIN GROSE'S PEREGRINATIONS THROUGH SCOTLAND,

COLLECTING THE ANTIQUITIES OF THAT KINGDOM,

Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnny Groat's;

2

If there's a hole in a' your coats,

I rede you tent it:

A chiel's amang you taking notes,

And, faith, he'll prent it.

warn

Chuckie, a familiar term for a hen, transferred endearingly to a matron of the human species.

2 Maidenkirk is an inversion of the name of Kirkmaiden, in Wigtonshire, the most southerly parish in Scotland.

If in your bounds ye chance to light
Upon a fine, fat, fodgel wight,
O' stature short, but genius bright,
That's he, mark weel—

And wow! he has an unco slight
O' cauk and keel.

By some auld houlet-haunted biggin,
Or kirk deserted by its riggin',

It's ten to ane ye'll find him snug in

Some eldritch part,

plump

owl-building

unholy

Wi' deils, they say, Lord save's! colleaguin'
At some black art.

Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha' or chaumer,
Ye gipsy-gang that deal in glamour,
And you deep-read in hell's black grammar,
Warlocks and witches;

Ye'll quake at his conjuring hammer,
Ye midnight bitches.

It's tauld he was a sodger bred,
And ane wad rather fa'n than fled;
But now he's quat the spurtle blade,
And dog-skin wallet,

And ta'en the-Antiquarian trade,
I think they call it.

He has a fouth o' auld nick-nackets,
Rusty airn caps and jinglin' jackets,
Wad haud the Lothians three in tackets,
A towmont guid;

And parritch-pats, and auld saut-backets,
Before the Flood.

Of Eve's first fire he has a cinder;
Auld Tubalcain's fire-shool and fender;
That which distinguished the gender
O' Balaam's ass;

A broomstick o' the witch of Endor,
Weel shod wi' brass.

Forbye, he'll shape you aff, fu' gleg,
The cut of Adam's philabeg;

The knife that nicket Abel's craig,
He'll prove you fully,

It was a faulding jocteleg,'

Or lang-kail gully.

'Jocktaleg, a clasp-knife; Northumberland and Scotland.

necromancy

abundance

quickly

neck

Probably from Jock of

6

Liege. Liege formerly supplied Scotland with cutlery.'-Grose's Provincial Glossary. The

But wad ye see him in his glee,
For meikle glee and fun has he,
Then set him down, and twa or three
Guid fellows wi' him;

And port, O port! shine thou a wee,
And then ye'll see him!

Now, by the powers o' verse and prose!
Thou art a dainty chiel, O Grose!—
Whae'er o' thee shall ill suppose,

They sair misca' thee;

I'd take the rascal by the nose,

Wad say, Shame fa' thee.

Another of the facetice of this acquaintance was an

EPITAPH ON CAPTAIN GROSE, THE CELEBRATED
ANTIQUARY,

The Devil got notice that GROSE was a-dying,

So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying;

But when he approached where poor FRANCIS lay moaning,
And saw each bedpost with its burden a-groaning,
Astonished, confounded, cried Satan: 'By

I'll want 'im, ere I take such a damnable load.'

Afterwards, when Grose had gone forward on his mission, Burns kept up a correspondence with him. Professor Stewart having intimated to the poet a desire to see Grose, the former sent the following letter to his antiquarian friend :—

TO FRANCIS GROSE, ESQ., F. S. A.

SIR-I believe among all our Scots literati you have not met with Professor Dugald Stewart, who fills the moral philosophy chair in the university of Edinburgh. To say that he is a man of the first parts, and, what is more, a man of the first worth, to a gentleman of your general acquaintance, and who so much enjoys the luxury of unencumbered freedom and undisturbed privacy, is

etymology of this word remained unknown till not many years ago, that an old knife was found, having this inscription Jacques de Liege, the name of the cutler. Thus it is in exact analogy with Andrea di Ferrara.'-Lord Hailes.

'After he [James VI.] had gone to England, it is said he boasted to some of his courtiers that he would repeat a sentence which none of them could understand. Calling one of his stable-boys, he said to him: "Callan, hae there's threttie pennies; gae wa and buy me a jockteleg; and gin ye bide, I'll gang to the bougars o' the house, and tak a caber, and reestle your riggin wi't."'-Dr Jamieson.