Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Abbreviations
- General Editor’s Preface
- Allan Ramsay (c. 1684–1758)
- Introduction
- Poems (1721)
- Poems (1728)
- Notes to Poems (1721)
- Notes to Poems (1728)
- Index of First Lines
- The Edinburgh Edition of the Collected Works of Allan Ramsay
- Abbreviations
- Uncollected
- Dubia
- Notes
- Glossary
- Bibliography
- Index of First Lines
Uncollected
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 18 March 2025
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Abbreviations
- General Editor’s Preface
- Allan Ramsay (c. 1684–1758)
- Introduction
- Poems (1721)
- Poems (1728)
- Notes to Poems (1721)
- Notes to Poems (1728)
- Index of First Lines
- The Edinburgh Edition of the Collected Works of Allan Ramsay
- Abbreviations
- Uncollected
- Dubia
- Notes
- Glossary
- Bibliography
- Index of First Lines
Summary
To the Most Happy Members of the Easy Club, 1712
Were I but a prince or king,
I’d advance ye, I’d advance ye;
Were I but a prince or king,
So highly's I’d advance ye.
Great sense and wit are ever found
’Mong you always for to abound,
Much like the orbs that still move round,
No ways constrain’d, but easy.
Were I, &c.
Most of what's hid from vulgar eye,
Even from earth's center to the sky,
Your brighter thoughts do clearly spy,
Which makes you wise and easy.
Were I, &c.
Apollo's self unknown attends,
And in good humour re-ascends
The forkt Parnassus, and commends
You for being blythe and easy.
Were I, &c.
All faction in the church or state,
With greater wisdom still you hate,
And leave learn’d fools these to debate;
Like rocks in seas ye’re easy.
Were I, &c.
May all you do successful prove,
And may you never fall in love
With what's not firm for your behoof,
Or may make you uneasy.
Were I, &c.
I love ye well — O! let me be
One of your blythe society,
And, like yourselves, I’ll strive to be
Ay humorous and Easy.
Were I, &c.
On Andrew Brown Hanging Himself
Now what could be the carl's drift
to which auld Nick lent him a lift
Unless it were a wylie shift
To hain his bread
Now he’ll eat nane and that is thrift
Since he is dead
How coud the fallow be sa daft
to tye himsell up to the laft
at's awn bed fit, where he sa aft…
By heaven's it was cursedly uncivil
In a bout to prove his fathers Rivall
And then in Rage without Reprivall
his sire to send
with Cords down headlong to the devill
Oh fatall end
here be thou seiz’d with plague and pox
Even hell account thee heterodox
Just heaven inflict most grievous stro[kes]
Till thou perpends
thy sire below needs make no clocks
Where time nere ends
Cauld be your cast who curst your dad
May fleas ay bite you i’ your bed
be drawn when hanged in a sled
to gallow lee
After curst sauls to pluto fled
there ay hing ye.
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- Information
- Poems of Allan RamsayVolumes II and III, pp. 1 - 210Publisher: Edinburgh University PressPrint publication year: 2023