PoemsBy Allan Ramsay . nae ScantyAnd throu the Howms could whiiHe, ling and mifs her fair, till happily they findAnither in her Place fae good and Laffes wha did at her Graces mintHae by her Death their bonnieft Pattern tint;P ilka ane wha did her Bounty skair,Lament, for genrous Keitka is nae main COLIN: O Ringan, Ringan ! Things gang fae uneven, I canna well take up the Will of Heavn : Our Crofles teughly laft us mony a Year, But unco foon our Bleffings R 1 N G A tell thee, CoUn9 my laft Sundays Note,I tented well Mefs Thamas ilka Jot 5 m I 314 3 The Powe
PoemsBy Allan Ramsay . nae ScantyAnd throu the Howms could whiiHe, ling and mifs her fair, till happily they findAnither in her Place fae good and Laffes wha did at her Graces mintHae by her Death their bonnieft Pattern tint;P ilka ane wha did her Bounty skair,Lament, for genrous Keitka is nae main COLIN: O Ringan, Ringan ! Things gang fae uneven, I canna well take up the Will of Heavn : Our Crofles teughly laft us mony a Year, But unco foon our Bleffings R 1 N G A tell thee, CoUn9 my laft Sundays Note,I tented well Mefs Thamas ilka Jot 5 m I 314 3 The Powers aboon are cautious as theyre juft^And dinna like to gie oer meikle TruftTo this uaconftant Earth with whats divine.;]Left in laigh Damps they fhould their Luftre tine*Sae let*s leave affour Murmuring and Tears,And never value Life by Length of Years;But as we can in Ooodnefs it employ,Syne wha dies firft, firft gains eternal Joy;Come, Colin, dight your Cheeks, and banifli Care^pur Ladys happys tho with us nae * The beautiful Rofe Tree enclofed. With Aw and Pleafure we behold thy Sweets,Thy lovely Ftofes have their pointed Guards 5Yet tho the Gathrer Oppofition fragrant Purchafe all his Pain rewards* But hedgd about and watchd with warry Eyes9O Plant fuperior, beautiful and fair,We view thee like yon Stars which gem the Skies^But equally to gain we mult defpair*. Ah ! were thou growing on fome fecret FlalfyAnd found by me, how ravifht would I meetAll thy tranfporting Charms to eafe my Pain*And feaft my raptured Soul on all thats fweet. Thus fung, poor Sjmon: Symon was in LovesJfclis too afpiring Paffion made him fmart;The Rofe Tree was a Miftrefs far aboveThe Shepherds Hope, which broke his tender Heart, t 3«* I
Size: 1820px × 1373px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentu, bookdecade1720, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookyear1720
