Poem Themes •
Random Poem •
The Rating of Poets • The Rating of Poems
Poem by William M’Vitie
An Epistle to David Crawford
When ither people jaw away About politics o’ the day, Or how the French an’ Austrian play Do oft rehearse, Accept frae me this faint essay, In rustic verse. I hail thee, poet frae the Tweed, Who now tunes up thy aiten reed At Caledonia’s fountain-head In sonnets fine, Wi’ a’ my heart I wish thee speed, In thy design. Now, low amang surrounding urns, Caul i’ the dust lies Robie Burns; While for his loss auld Scotia mourns, And rives her duds, His name’s high risen to the starns, Aboon the cluds. Then, Crawford, follow his example, An’ o’er inferior poets trample, Ne’er stan’ at mountain, hill, or humple, ’Tween you an’ fame, But shaw the list’ning world a sample, Will raise your name. I hae nae time a deal to say, But for you I’ll sincerely pray, As lang as Phœbus shines by day, And night is dark, Fam’d be the bard that rhim’d away At Heriot’s Wark. Lang as the ocean swells in waves, Lang as the harvest mows the sheaves, Lang as the oak produces leaves, And tanners bark, May Crawford’s name the bard survive, Of Heriot’s Wark. As lang as I can blaw my nose, Or scart a cog o’ oat-meal brose, As lang as e’er anither’s woes Excite my pity, Till Death at last my een shall close, Yours, WILL. M’VITIE. Leith, Oct. 31. 1796.
William M’Vitie's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail email@example.com