The Complete Works. Robert Burns

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      The neist cam in a sodger youth,

      And spak wi’ modest grace,

      And he wad gae to London town,

      If sae their pleasure was.

      He wad na hecht them courtly gifts,

      Nor meikle speech pretend;

      But he wad hecht an honest heart,

      Wad ne’er desert his friend.

      Then wham to chuse, and wham refuse,

      At strife thir carlins fell;

      For some had gentlefolks to please,

      And some wad please themsel’.

      Then out spak mim-mou’d Meg o’ Nith,

      And she spak up wi’ pride,

      And she wad send the sodger youth,

      Whatever might betide.

      For the auld gudeman o’ London court

      She didna care a pin;

      But she wad send the sodger youth

      To greet his eldest son.

      Then slow raise Marjory o’ the Lochs

      And wrinkled was her brow;

      Her ancient weed was russet gray,

      Her auld Scotch heart was true.

      “The London court set light by me—

      I set as light by them;

      And I wilt send the sodger lad

      To shaw that court the same.”

      Then up sprang Bess of Annandale,

      And swore a deadly aith,

      Says, “I will send the border-knight

      Spite o’ you carlins baith.

      “For far-off fowls hae feathers fair,

      And fools o’ change are fain;

      But I hae try’d this border-knight,

      I’ll try him yet again.”

      Then whiskey Jean spak o’er her drink,

      “Ye weel ken, kimmersa’,

      The auld gudeman o’ London court,

      His back’s been at the wa’.

      “And mony a friend that kiss’d his caup,

      Is now a fremit wight;

      But it’s ne’er be sae wi’ whiskey Jean,—

      We’ll send the border-knight.”

      Says black Joan o’ Crighton-peel,

      A carlin stoor and grim,—

      “The auld gudeman, or the young gudeman,

      For me may sink or swim.

      “For fools will prate o’ right and wrang,

      While knaves laugh in their sleeve;

      But wha blaws best the horn shall win,

      I’ll spier nae courtier’s leave.”

      So how this mighty plea may end

      There’s naebody can tell:

      God grant the king, and ilka man,

      May look weel to himsel’!

      CXIV. THE LADDIES BY THE BANKS O’ NITH

      [This short Poem was first published by Robert Chambers. It intimates pretty strongly, how much the poet disapproved of the change which came over the Duke of Queensberry’s opinions, when he supported the right of the Prince of Wales to assume the government, without consent of Parliament, during the king’s alarming illness, in 1788.]

      CXV. EPISTLE TO ROBERT GRAHAM, ESQ. OF FINTRAY: ON THE CLOSE OF THE DISPUTED ELECTION BETWEEN SIR JAMES JOHNSTONE AND CAPTAIN MILLER, FOR THE DUMFRIES DISTRICT OF BOROUGHS.

      [“I am too little a man,” said Burns, in the note to Fintray, which accompanied this poem, “to have any political attachment: I am deeply indebted to, and have the warmest veneration for individuals of both parties: but a man who has it in his power to be the father of a country, and who acts like his Grace of Queensberry, is a character that one cannot speak of with patience.” This Epistle was first printed in my edition of Burns in 1834: I had the use of the Macmurdo and the Afton manuscripts for that purpose: to both families the poet was much indebted for many acts of courtesy and kindness.]