Dalrymple.]
[Footnote 8: Minister of St. Quivox.]
[Footnote 9: Dr. Andrew Shaw of Craigie, and Dr. David Shaw of
Coylton.]
[Footnote 10: Dr. Peter Wodrow of Tarbolton.]
[Footnote 11: Rev. John M'Math, a young assistant and successor
to Wodrow.]
[Footnote 12: Rev. George Smith of Galston.]
M'Quhae's pathetic manly sense,
An' guid M'Math,
Wi' Smith, wha thro' the heart can glance,
May a' pack aff.
1785
Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet
January
While winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw,
An' bar the doors wi' driving snaw,
An' hing us owre the ingle,
I set me down to pass the time,
An' spin a verse or twa o' rhyme,
In hamely, westlin jingle.
While frosty winds blaw in the drift,
Ben to the chimla lug,
I grudge a wee the great-folk's gift,
That live sae bien an' snug:
I tent less, and want less
Their roomy fire-side;
But hanker, and canker,
To see their cursed pride.
It's hardly in a body's pow'r
To keep, at times, frae being sour,
To see how things are shar'd;
How best o' chiels are whiles in want,
While coofs on countless thousands rant,
And ken na how to wair't;
But, Davie, lad, ne'er fash your head,
Tho' we hae little gear;
We're fit to win our daily bread,
As lang's we're hale and fier:
"Mair spier na, nor fear na,"^1
Auld age ne'er mind a feg;
The last o't, the warst o't
Is only but to beg.
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