LXXXIII.

EPISTLE TO WILLIAM CREECH.

[A storm of rain detained Burns one day, during his border tour, at Selkirk, and he employed his time in writing this characteristic epistle to Creech, his bookseller. Creech was a person of education and taste; he was not only the most popular publisher in the north, but he was intimate with almost all the distinguished men who, in those days, adorned Scottish literature. But though a joyous man, a lover of sociality, and the keeper of a good table, he was close and parsimonious, and loved to hold money to the last moment that the law allowed.]

_Selkirk_, 13 _May_, 1787.

Auld chukie Reekie's[69] sair distrest, Down droops her ance weel-burnisht crest, Nae joy her bonnie buskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she lo'es best, Willie's awa!

O Willie was a witty wight, And had o' things an unco slight; Auld Reekie ay he keepit tight, An' trig an' braw: But now they'll busk her like a fright, Willie's awa!

The stiffest o' them a' he bow'd; The bauldest o' them a' he cow'd; They durst nae mair than he allow'd, That was a law; We've lost a birkie weel worth gowd, Willie's awa!

Now gawkies, tawpies, gowks, and fools, Frae colleges and boarding-schools, May sprout like simmer puddock stools In glen or shaw; He wha could brush them down to mools, Willie's awa!

The brethren o' the Commerce-Chaumer[70] May mourn their loss wi' doofu' clamour; He was a dictionar and grammar Amang them a'; I fear they'll now mak mony a stammer, Willie's awa!

Nae mair we see his levee door Philosophers and poets pour,[71] And toothy critics by the score In bloody raw! The adjutant o' a' the core, Willie's awa!

Now worthy Gregory's Latin face, Tytler's and Greenfield's modest grace; Mackenzie, Stewart, sic a brace As Rome n'er saw; They a' maun meet some ither place, Willie's awa!

Poor Burns--e'en Scotch drink canna quicken, He cheeps like some bewilder'd chicken, Scar'd frae its minnie and the cleckin By hoodie-craw; Grief's gien his heart an unco kickin', Willie's awa!

Now ev'ry sour-mou'd girnin' blellum, And Calvin's fock are fit to fell him; And self-conceited critic skellum His quill may draw; He wha could brawlie ward their bellum, Willie's awa!

Up wimpling stately Tweed I've sped, And Eden scenes on crystal Jed, And Ettrick banks now roaring red, While tempests blaw; But every joy and pleasure's fled, Willie's awa!

May I be slander's common speech; A text for infamy to preach; And lastly, streekit out to bleach In winter snaw; When I forget thee! Willie Creech, Tho' far awa!

May never wicked fortune touzle him! May never wicked man bamboozle him! Until a pow as auld's Methusalem He canty claw! Then to the blessed New Jerusalem, Fleet wing awa!

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 69: Edinburgh.]

[Footnote 70: The Chamber of Commerce in Edinburgh, of which Creech was Secretary.]

[Footnote 71: Many literary gentlemen were accustomed to meet at Mr. Creech's house at breakfast.]

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