RAMSAY'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF, IN A POEM ADDRESSED TO MR. JAMES ARBUCKLE.

Imprimis, then, for tallness, I

Am five feet four inches high;

A black-a-vic'd, snod, dapper fallow,

Nor lean, nor overlaid wi' tallow;

Wi' phiz of a Morocco cut,

Resembling a late man of wit,

Auld gabbet Spec, wha was sae cunning,

To be a dummie ten years running.

Then for the fabric of my mind,

'Tis mair to mirth than grief inclin'd:

I rather choose to laugh at folly,

Than shew dislike by melancholy;

Weel judging a sour heavy face

Is not the truest mark of grace.

I hate a drunkard or a glutton,

Yet I'm nae fae to wine and mutton:

Great tables ne'er engaged my wishes

When crowded with o'er mony dishes;

A healthfu' stomach sharply set

Prefers a back-sey pipin het.

I never could imagine 't vicious

Of a fair fame to be ambitious:

Proud to be thought a comic poet, }

And let a judge of numbers know it, }

I court occasion thus to show it. }

Second of thirdly—Pray take heed,

Ye's get a short swatch of my creed.

To follow method negatively,

Ye ken takes place of positively:

Weel then, I'm neither Whig nor Tory,

Nor credit give to purgatory.

Frae twenty-four to five-and-forty,

My muse was neither sweer nor dorty,

My Pegasus would break his tether,

E'en at the shagging of a feather,

And through ideas scour like drift,

Streaking his wings up to the lift;

Then, then my soul was in a low,

That gart my members safely row;

But eild and judgment 'gin to say,

Let be your sangs, and learn to pray.

I.S.W.