James Fisher

An Epistle to Mr. John Lapraik

1.

As I my muse did gently straik,	
She in her noddle took a freak,	
An’ said, ’swith Sir, to John Lapraik
	A letter sen’;
Out o’ her head to pit the creak,
	I tak my pen.
	
2.

Sir, since wi’ you I’m no acquaint,
Ye’ll may be think I am na scant
O’ impudence – weel, that I grant,
	Yet me excuse,
For keenly I acquaintance want
	Wi’ your droll muse.
	
3.

At rhymin’ wark ye are na lame, 
Your beuk right high hath rais’d your fame, 
An’ far an’ brade hath spread your name,
	I hope for good, – 
I wat in it there’s mony a theme
	O’ merry mood.
	
4.

Ye’re a right queer diverting chiel’,
Although your joints be stiff wi’ eil; 
Up mount Parnassus ye can speel	
	Fou yaul, wi’ glee, 
A miller life to len’ the de’il
	’Gainst Burns, I see.
	
5.

I wat ye hae a curious noddle,
My muse o’ your’s wad mak’ a model;
I fain o’ you wad learn to toddle
	In poetry; 
At creeping I’m no worth a bodle
	In it, ye’ll see.
	
6.

For fame ye may wi’ poets rin,
When chiels like me maun creep ahin’: 
Lang threads ye frae your noddle spin,
	Fu’ tight an’ prime. 
Are ye o’ Ramsay’s kith or kin?
	Sae weel ye rhyme!
	
7.

Did ye drink at Parnaffus hill? 
O’ Helicon ye hae sic skill,
In poetry to use your quill!
	Or where suck’d ye 
Sic strong quintessence? at Moor-mill
	Can Heli’ be!
	
8.

I ken wi’ you is halsome air, 
I ance was at a Moor-kirk fair, 
But gif that sic a well be there
	Ye’ll surely ken, 
For o’ it ye hae drunk a skare –
	Witness your pen,

9.

Dear Sir, I wad be glad to fee 
You in my house at Ochiltree, 
Gif that convenient wad be;
	Sir, time allow,
For I like weel to crack a wee
	Wi’ chiels like you.
	
10.

These lines sae useless I will en’,
Sae now I stop my feeble pen; –	
Wad ye me twa three lines but sen’,
	I’ll tak it kin’:
The mony wrangs ye may amend
	That are in mine.