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Poem by Thomas Walker


Answer I


1.

Ae morn the sun was rising hie
An while he blinked bonilie,
Your line came linking in to me
	Wi cooper John;
Said I, up muse! heres wark for thee,
	Whilk must be done.

2.

This twelve month thou hast lien at rest, 
Get up, I beg, and do thy best, 
That I may get my verses drest,
	Sir, to your pleating; 
For Fisher, yere a fashous pest
	For criticising.

3.

Gif ye were never far a fiel, 
But bred aside your mithers wheel, 
Wha mount Parnassus neer did speel,
	Then Im to blame 
Gif eer I kent o sic a chiel,
	Brought up at hame!

4.

Ye need na plaint upon your muse, 
Nor come to me to beg excuse, 
Be thankfu rather, and peruse
	Your noble gifts, 
An pity them wha sic abuse,
	By wicked shifts.

5.

Ye tell me I am nane o those, 
That lead the van wi heavens foes; 
Tis true, my pen does riot expose
	My soul in sin;
But Oh, alas! no mortal knows
	My heart within!
 
6.

But let me never lead astray, 
Poor mortals on in Satans way; 
Sic hellish houns that catch the prey
	For him sae fast, 
Are waiting on a dreadfu day,
	I fear, at last.

7.

How pitifu to see the sight      
The sprightly gallant, trim and tight, 
Whas heads a shining lamp o light,
	Wi bonny face; 
An heart as dark as mirk midnight,
	For want o grace!

8.

That heart is hard that never bleeds, 
To see the devils garden weeds, 
Wi learned lumber in their heads,
	Gaun doun the hill, 
To get their wages for their deeds,
	In torments still.

9.

I shudder at the awfu thought! 
A man to sell his soul for nought!   
This warlds gear by sic is bought
	At countless cost,
Since we can neer redeem by ought
	A soul when lost.

10.

O thou, my soul, come not unto 
The paths wherein destroyers go! 
Come riot into their secret, who
	By wicked rhymes, 
Ser Satan, our infernal foe,
	To please the times!

11.

Saints now a-days may weep and mourn, 
To think how ages yet unborn, 
Will fee religion turnd to scorn       
	By Robins books; 
And a the bible rest and torn
	By clergy fouks.

Hill of Ochiltree, March 15. 1789.

Thomas Walker


Thomas Walker's other poems:
  1. Epistle from a Taylor to Robert Burns
  2. Answer II


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