ON A
CELEBRATED
RULING ELDER.
Robert Burns
[Wee Johnny was John Wilson, printer of the Kilmarnock edition of
Burns's Poems: he doubted the success of the speculation, and the poet
punished him in these lines, which he printed unaware of their
meaning. ]
Whoe'er thou art, O reader, know,
That death has murder'd Johnny!
An' here his body lies fu' low--
For saul he ne'er had ony.
* * * * *
VI.
ON JOHN DOVE,
INNKEEPER, MAUCHLINE.
[John Dove kept the Whitefoord Arms in Mauchline: his religion is made
to consist of a comparative appreciation of the liquors he kept. ]
Here lies Johnny Pidgeon;
What was his religion?
Wha e'er desires to ken,
To some other warl'
Maun follow the carl,
For here Johnny Pidgeon had nane!
Strong ale was ablution--
Small beer, persecution,
A dram was _memento mori_;
But a full flowing bowl
Was the saving his soul,
And port was celestial glory.
* * * * *
VII.
ON A WAG IN MAUCHLINE.
[This laborious and useful wag was the "Dear Smith, thou sleest pawkie
thief," of one of the poet's finest epistles: he died in the West
Indies. ]
Lament him, Mauchline husbands a',
He aften did assist ye;
For had ye staid whole weeks awa,
Your wives they ne'er had missed ye.
Ye Mauchline bairns, as on ye press
To school in bands thegither,
O tread ye lightly on his grass,--
Perhaps he was your father.
* * * * *
VIII.
ON A CELEBRATED RULING ELDER.
[Souter Hood obtained the distinction of this Epigram by his
impertinent inquiries into what he called the moral delinquencies of
Burns. ]
Here souter Hood in death does sleep;--
To h--ll, if he's gane thither,
Satan, gie him thy gear to keep,
He'll haud it weel thegither.
* * * * *
IX.
ON A NOISY POLEMIC.
[This noisy polemic was a mason of the name of James Humphrey: he
astonished Cromek by an eloquent dissertation on free grace,
effectual-calling, and predestination. ]
Below thir stanes lie Jamie's banes:
O Death, it's my opinion,
Thou ne'er took such a blethrin' b--ch
Into thy dark dominion!
* * * * *
X.
ON MISS JEAN SCOTT.
[The heroine of these complimentary lines lived in Ayr, and cheered
the poet with her sweet voice, as well as her sweet looks. ]
Oh! had each Scot of ancient times,
Been Jeany Scott, as thou art,
The bravest heart on English ground
Had yielded like a coward!
* * * * *
XI.
ON A HENPECKED COUNTRY SQUIRE.
[Though satisfied with the severe satire of these lines, the poet made
a second attempt. ]
As father Adam first was fool'd,
A case that's still too common,
Here lies a man a woman rul'd,
The devil rul'd the woman.
