ent glow'r [stare]
Sets up her horn,
Wail thro' the dreary midnight hour
Till waukrife morn! [wakeful]

O rivers, forests, hills, and plains!
Oft have ye heard my canty strains; [cheerful]
But now, what else for me remains
But tales of woe?
And frae my een the drapping rains [eyes]
Maun ever flow. [Must]

Mourn, Spring, thou darling of the year!
Ilk cowslip cup shall kep a tear: [catch]
Thou, Simmer, while each corny spear
Shoots up its head,
Thy gay green flow'ry tresses shear
For him that's dead!

Thou, Autumn, wi' thy yellow hair,
In grief thy sallow mantle tear!
Thou, Winter, hurling thro' the air
The roaring blast,
Wide o'er the naked warld, declare
The worth we've lost!

Mourn him, thou sun, great source of light!
Mourn, empress of the silent night!
And you, ye twinkling starnies bright, [starlets]
My Matthew mourn!
For through your orbs he's ta'en his flight,
Ne'er to return.

O Henderson! the man! the brother!
And art thou gone, and gone for ever?
And hast thou crost that unknown river,
Life's dreary bound?
Like thee, where shall I find another,
The world around?

Go to your sculptur'd tombs, ye great,
In a' the tinsel trash o' state!
But by thy honest turf I'll wait,
Thou man of worth!
And weep the ae best fellow's fate
E'er lay in earth.

SCOTCH DRINK

_Gie him strong drink, until he wink,
That's sinking in despair;
An' liquor guid to fire his bluid,
That's prest wi' grief an' care;

There let him bouse, an' deep carouse,
Wi' bumpers flowing o'er,
Till he forgets his loves or debts,
An' minds his griefs no more._
SOLOMON (Proverbs xxxi. 6, 7).

Let other Poets raise a fracas
'Bout vines, an' wines, an' drunken Bacchus,
An' crabbed names an' stories wrack us,
An' grate our lug; [ear]
I sing the juice Scotch bear can mak us,