Poem by Robert Burns

Extempore in the Court of Session

        LORD ADVOCATE.

HE clench’d his pamphlets in his fist,
	He quoted and he hinted,
Till in a declamation-mist,
	His argument he tint it:
He gaped for’t, he graped for’t,
	He fand it was awa, man;
But what his common sense came short,
	He eked out wi’ law, man.

        MR. ERSKINE.

Collected Harry stood awee,
	Then open’d out his arm, man;
His lordship sat wi’ ruefu’ e’e,
	And eyed the gathering storm, man:
Like wind-driv’n hail it did assail,
	Or torrents owre a linn, man;
The Bench sae wise, lift up their eyes,
	Half-wauken’d wi’ the din, man.

1. The Day Returns
2. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns
3. Peg-A-Ramsey
4. My Wife’s a Winsome Wee Thing
5. Nithsdale’s Welcome Hame

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