the author's earnest cry and prayer

to the right honourable and honourable scotch

representatives in the house of mons.

dearest of distition!st and best—

—how art thou lost!—

parody on milton.

ye irish lords, ye knights an' squires,

wha represent our brughs an' shires,

an' doucely manage our affairs

in parliament,

to you a simple poet's pray'rs

are humbly sent.

s! my roupit muse is hearse!

your honours' hearts wi' grief 'twad pierce,

to see her sittin on her arse

low i' the dust,

and scriechinhout prosaic verse,

an like to brust!

tell them wha hae the chief direction,

scond an' me's in great affliction,

e'er sin' theyid that curst restriction

on aqua-vitae;

an' rouse them up to strong conviction,

an' move their pity.

stand forth an' tell yon premier youth

the honest, open, naked truth:

tell him o' mine an' scond's drouth,

his servants humble:

the muckle deevil w you south

if ye dissemble!

does ony great man glunch an' gloom?

speak out, an' never fash your thumb!

let posts an' pensions sink or soom

wi' them wha grant them;

if honestly they canna e,

far better want them.

in gath'rin votes you were na ck;

now stand as tightly by your tack:

ne'er w your lug, an' fidge your back,

an' hum an' haw;

but raise your arm, an' tell your crack

before them a'.

paint scond greetin owre her thrissle;

her mutchkin stowp as toom's a whissle;

an' damn'd excisemen in a bussle,

seizin a stell,

triumphant crushin't like a mussel,

or limpet shell!

then, on the tither hand present her—

a ckguard ler right behint her,

an' cheek-for-chow, a chuffie vintner

colleaguing join,

picking her pouch as bare as winter

of a' kind coin.

is there, that bears the name o' scot,

but feels his heart's bluid rising hot,

to see his poor auld mither's pot

thus dung in staves,

an' plunder'd o' her hindmost groat

by gallows knaves?

s! i'm but a nameless wight,

trode i' the mire out o' sight?

but could i like montgomeries fight,

or gab like boswell,

there's some sark-necks i wad draw tight,

an' tie some hose well.

god bless your honours! can ye see't—

the kind, auld cantie carlin greet,

an' no get warmly to your feet,

an' gar them hear it,

an' tell them wi'a patriot-heat

ye winna bear it?

some o' you nicely ken thews,

to round the period an' pause,

an' with rhetoric use on use

to mak harangues;

then echo thro' saint stephen's wa's

auld scond's wrangs.

dempster, a true blue scot i'se warran';

thee, aith-detesting, chaste kilkerran;

an' that glib-gabbit hignd baron,

theird o' graham;

an' ane, a chap that's damn'd aulfarran',

dundas his name:

erskine, a spunkie nond billie;

true campbells, frederick and y;

an' livistone, the bauld sir willie;

an' mony ithers,

whom auld demosthenes or tully

might own for brithers.

see sodger hugh, my watchman stented,

if poets e'er are represented;

i ken if that your sword were wanted,

ye'd lend a hand;

but when there's ought to say anent it,

ye're at a stand.

arouse, my boys! exert your mettle,

to get auld scond back her kettle;

or faith! i'll wad my new pleugh-pettle,

ye'll see't orng,