[Burns being called on for a song, by his brother volunteers, on a festive occasion, gave the following Toast.]
Instead of a song, boys, I’ll give you a toast—
Here’s the memory of those on the twelfth that we lost!—
That we lost, did I say? nay, by Heav’n, that we found;
For their fame it shall last while the world goes round.
The next in succession, I’ll give you—the King!
Whoe’er would betray him, on high may he swing;
And here’s the grand fabric, our free Constitution,
As built on the base of the great Revolution;
And longer with politics not to be cramm’d,
Be Anarchy curs’d, and be Tyranny damn’d;
And who would to Liberty e’er prove disloyal,
May his son be a hangman, and he his first trial.
XLIX.
ON A PERSON NICKNAMED
THE MARQUIS.
[In a moment when vanity prevailed against prudence, this person, who kept a respectable public-house in Dumfries, desired Burns, to write his epitaph.]
Here lies a mock Marquis, whose titles were shamm’d;
If ever he rise, it will be to be damn’d.