No More Learning

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LXXIII.

[These lines seem to owe their origin to the precept of Mickle.

"The present moment is our ain,
The next we never saw. "]


Here's a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad you wish for mair, man?
Wha kens before his life may end,
What his share may be o' care, man?
Then catch the moments as they fly,
And use them as ye ought, man?
Believe me, happiness is shy,
And comes not ay when sought, man.

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LXXIV.

[The sentiment which these lines express, was one familiar to Burns,
in the early, as well as concluding days of his life. ]


Though fickle Fortune has deceived me,
She promis'd fair and perform'd but ill;
Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me,
Yet I bear a heart shall support me still. --

I'll act with prudence as far's I'm able,
But if success I must never find,
Then come misfortune, I bid thee welcome,
I'll meet thee with an undaunted mind.

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LXXV.

TO JOHN KENNEDY.

[The John Kennedy to whom these verses and the succeeding lines were
addressed, lived, in 1796, at Dumfries-house, and his taste was so
much esteemed by the poet, that he submitted his "Cotter's Saturday
Night" and the "Mountain Daisy" to his judgment: he seems to have been
of a social disposition.
]


Now, Kennedy, if foot or horse
E'er bring you in by Mauchline Cross,
L--d, man, there's lasses there wad force
A hermit's fancy.
And down the gate in faith they're worse
And mair unchancy.

But as I'm sayin', please step to Dow's,
And taste sic gear as Johnnie brews,
Till some bit callan bring me news
That ye are there,
And if we dinna hae a bouze
I'se ne'er drink mair.

It's no I like to sit an' swallow,
Then like a swine to puke and wallow,
But gie me just a true good fellow,
Wi' right ingine,
And spunkie ance to make us mellow,
And then we'll shine.

Now if ye're ane o' warl's folk,
Wha rate the wearer by the cloak,
An' sklent on poverty their joke
Wi' bitter sneer,
Wi' you nae friendship I will troke,
Nor cheap nor dear.

But if, as I'm informed weel,
Ye hate as ill's the very deil
The flinty heart that canna feel--
Come, Sir, here's tae you!
Hae, there's my haun, I wiss you weel,
And gude be wi' you.

ROBERT BURNESS.

_Mossgiel, 3 March, 1786. _

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LXXVI.

TO JOHN KENNEDY.


Farewell, dear friend! may guid luck hit you,
And 'mang her favourites admit you!
If e'er Detraction shore to smit you,
May nane believe him!
And ony deil that thinks to get you,
Good Lord deceive him!

R.