* * * *

LXI.

TO MR. M'ADAM,

OF CRAIGEN-GILLAN.

[It seems that Burns, delighted with the praise which the Laird of
Craigen-Gillan bestowed on his verses,--probably the Jolly Beggars,
then in the hands of Woodburn, his steward,--poured out this little
unpremeditated natural acknowledgment.]

Sir, o'er a gill I gat your card,
I trow it made me proud;
See wha tak's notice o' the bard
I lap and cry'd fu' loud.

Now deil-ma-care about their jaw,
The senseless, gawky million:
I'll cock my nose aboon them a'--
I'm roos'd by Craigen-Gillan!

'Twas noble, Sir; 'twas like yoursel',
To grant your high protection:
A great man's smile, ye ken fu' well,
Is ay a blest infection.

Tho' by his[57] banes who in a tub
Match'd Macedonian Sandy!
On my ain legs thro' dirt and dub,
I independent stand ay.--

And when those legs to gude, warm kail,
Wi' welcome canna bear me;
A lee dyke-side, a sybow-tail,
And barley-scone shall cheer me.

Heaven spare you lang to kiss the breath
O' many flow'ry simmers!
And bless your bonnie lasses baith,
I'm tauld they're loosome kimmers!

And GOD bless young Dunaskin's laird,
The blossom of our gentry!
And may he wear an auld man's beard,
A credit to his country.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 57: Diogenes.]

* * * * *

LXII.

ANSWER TO A POETICAL EPISTLE

SENT TO THE AUTHOR BY A TAILOR.

[The person who in the name of a Tailor took the liberty of
admonishing Burns about his errors, is generally believed to have been
William Simpson, the schoolmaster of Ochiltree: the verses seem about
the measure of his capacity, and were attributed at the time to his
hand. The natural poet took advantage of the mask in which the made
poet concealed himself, and rained such a merciless storm upon him, as
would have extinguished half the Tailors in Ayrshire, and made the
amazed dominie

"Strangely fidge and fyke."

It was first printed in 1801, by Stewart.]

What ails ye now, ye lousie b----h,
To thresh my back at sic a pitch?
Losh, man! hae mercy wi' your natch,
Your bodkin's bauld,
I didna suffer ha'f sae much
Frae Daddie Auld.

What tho' at times when I grow crouse,
I gie their wames a random pouse,
Is