No More Learning

To The Beautiful Miss Eliza J--N

On her Principles of Liberty and Equality.


How, Liberty! girl, can it be by thee nam'd?
Equality too! hussey, art not asham'd?
Free and Equal indeed, while mankind thou enchainest,
And over their hearts a proud Despot so reignest.




On Chloris

Requesting me to give her a Spring of Blossomed Thorn.


From the white-blossom'd sloe my dear Chloris requested
A sprig, her fair breast to adorn:
No, by Heavens! I exclaim'd, let me perish, if ever
I plant in that bosom a thorn!




On Seeing Mrs. Kemble In Yarico

Kemble, thou cur'st my unbelief
For Moses and his rod;
At Yarico's sweet nor of grief
The rock with tears had flow'd.




Epigram On A Country Laird,

not quite so wise as Solomon.


Bless Jesus Christ, O Cardonessp,
With grateful, lifted eyes,
Who taught that not the soul alone,
But body too shall rise;
For had He said "the soul alone
From death I will deliver,"
Alas, alas! O Cardoness,
Then hadst thou lain for ever.




On Being Shewn A Beautiful Country Seat

Belonging to the same Laird.
We grant they're thine, those beauties all,
So lovely in our eye;
Keep them, thou eunuch, Cardoness,
For others to enjoy!




On Hearing It Asserted Falsehood

is expressed in the Rev. Dr. Babington's very looks.


That there is a falsehood in his looks,
I must and will deny:
They tell their Master is a knave,
And sure they do not lie.




On A Suicide

Earth'd up, here lies an imp o' hell,
Planted by Satan's dibble;
Poor silly wretch, he's damned himsel',
To save the Lord the trouble.




On A Swearing Coxcomb

Here cursing, swearing Burton lies,
A buck, a beau, or "Dem my eyes! "
Who in his life did little good,
And his last words were "Dem my blood! "




On An Innkeeper Nicknamed "The Marquis"

Here lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm'd,
If ever he rise, it will be to be damn'd.




On Andrew Turner

In se'enteen hunder'n forty-nine,
The deil gat stuff to mak a swine,
An' coost it in a corner;
But wilily he chang'd his plan,
An' shap'd it something like a man,
An' ca'd it Andrew Turner.




Pretty Peg

As I gaed up by yon gate-end,
When day was waxin' weary,
Wha did I meet come down the street,
But pretty Peg, my dearie!

Her air sae sweet, an' shape complete,
Wi' nae proportion wanting,
The Queen of Love did never move
Wi' motion mair enchanting.

Wi' linked hands we took the sands,
Adown yon winding river;
Oh, that sweet hour and shady bower,
Forget it shall I never!




Esteem For Chloris

As, Chloris, since it may not be,
That thou of love wilt hear;
If from the lover thou maun flee,
Yet let the friend be dear.

Altho' I love my Chloris mair
Than ever tongue could tell;
My passion I will ne'er declare--
I'll say, I wish thee well.

Tho' a' my daily care thou art,
And a' my nightly dream,
I'll hide the struggle in my heart,
And say it is esteem.