When Death’s dark stream I ferry o’er,
A time that surely shall come;
In Heaven itself I’ll ask no more
Than just a Highland welcome.
XV.
ON WILLIAM SMELLIE.
[Smellie, author of the Philosophy of History; a singular person, of ready wit, and negligent in nothing save his dress.]
Shrewd Willie Smellie to Crochallan came,
The old cock’d hat, the gray surtout, the same;
His bristling beard just rising in its might,
’Twas four long nights and days to shaving night:
His uncomb’d grizzly locks wild staring, thatch’d
A head for thought profound and clear, unmatch’d:
Yet tho’ his caustic wit was biting, rude,
His heart was warm, benevolent, and good.