Slow Signal Fade ebooks

O Woman lovely, Woman fair!
An angel form's faun to thy share,
'Twad been o'er meikle to gi'en thee mair--
I mean an angel mind.


Impromptu Lines To Captain Riddell
On Returning a Newspaper.
Your News and Review, sir.
I've read through and through, sir,
With little admiring or blaming;
The Papers are barren
Of home-news or foreign,
No murders or rapes worth the naming.
Our friends, the Reviewers,
Those chippers and hewers,
Are judges of mortar and stone, sir;
But of meet or unmeet,
In a fabric complete,
I'll boldly pronounce they are none, sir;
My goose-quill too rude is
To tell all your goodness
Bestow'd on your servant, the Poet;
Would to God I had one
Like a beam of the sun,
And then all the world, sir, should know it!


Lines To John M'Murdo, Esq. Of Drumlanrig
Sent with some of the Author's Poems.
O could I give thee India's wealth,
As I this trifle send;
Because thy joy in both would be
To share them with a friend.


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