Shandean proclivities for eccentric forward motion wholly unconducive to making a prosperous, if not a poetic, life.
A Dream
First printed in the Kilmarnock edition, 1786.
Thoughts, words, and deeds, the Statute blames with reason;
But surely Dreams were ne’er indicted Treason.
On reading, in the public papers, the Laureate’s Ode with the other parade of June 4th, 1786, the Author was no sooner dropt asleep, than he imagined himself transported to the Birth-day Levee; and, in his dreaming fancy, made the following Address: —
GUID-MORNIN to your MAJESTY!
May Heaven augment your blisses,
On ev’ry new Birth-day ye see,
A humble Poet wishes! (changed from Bardie in 1793)
5 My Bardship here, at your Levee,
On sic a day as this is, such
Is sure an uncouth sight to see,
Amang thae Birth-day dresses among they
Sae fine this day. so
10 I see ye’re complimented thrang, busily
By monie a lord an’ lady; many
‘God Save the King’ ’s a cuckoo sang song
That’s unco easy said ay: mighty
The Poets, too, a venal gang,
15 Wi’ rhymes weel-turn’d an’ ready, well-
Wad gar you trow ye ne’er do wrang, would make, think, wrong
But ay unerring steady,
On sic a day. such
For me! before a Monarch’s face,
20 Ev’n there I winna flatter; will not
For neither Pension, Post, nor Place,
Am I your humble debtor:
So, nae reflection on YOUR GRACE, no
Your Kingship to bespatter;
25 There’s monie waur been o’ the Race, many worse
And aiblins ane been better maybe one
Than You this day.
’Tis very true, my sovereign King,
My skill may weel be doubted; well
30 But Facts are chiels that winna ding, fellows, will not be upset
And downa be disputed: cannot
Your royal nest, beneath Your wing,
Is e’en right reft and clouted, torn & patched
And now the third part o’ the string,
35 An’ less, will gang about it go
Than did ae day. one
Far be’t frae me that I aspire from
To blame your Legislation,
Or say, ye wisdom want, or fire
40 To rule this mighty nation:
But faith! I muckle doubt, my SIRE, much
Ye’ve trusted ’Ministration
To chaps wha in a barn or byre who
Wad better fill’d their station,
45 Than courts yon day.
And now Ye’ve gien auld Britain peace, given old
Her broken shins to plaister; plaster
Your sair taxation does her fleece, sore
Till she has scarce a tester: sixpence
50 For me, thank God, my life’s a lease, a tenant farm lease
Nae bargain wearin faster, no
Or faith! I fear, that, wi’ the geese,
I shortly boost to pasture must
I’ the craft some day.
55 I’m no mistrusting Willie Pit,
When taxes he enlarges,
(An’ Will’s a true guid fallow’s get, good, breed
A Name not Envy spairges), bespatters
That he intends to pay your debt,
60 An’ lessen a’ your charges;
But, God sake! let nae saving fit no
Abridge your bonie Barges handsome
An’ Boats this day.
Adieu, my LIEGE! may Freedom geck sport
65 Beneath your high protection;
An’ may Ye rax Corruption’s neck,
And gie her for dissection! give
But since I’m here I’ll no neglect,
In loyal, true affection,
70 To pay your QUEEN, wi’ due respect,
My fealty an’ subjection
This great Birth-day.
Hail, Majesty most Excellent!
While Nobles strive to please Ye,
75 Will Ye accept a Compliment,
A simple Bardie gies Ye? gives
Thae bonie Bairntime, Heav’n has lent, that pretty brood
Still higher may they heeze Ye hoist
In bliss, till Fate some day is sent,
80 For ever to release Ye
Frae Care that day. from
For you,
