ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
J. M'D., "Lines written at Habby's How, 22d Sept. 1809" Scots Magazine 72 (January 1810) 48.
1719: William Hamilton of Gilbertfield
1720: C. T.
1722: David Mallet
1725: William Hamilton of Bangour
1728 ca.: William Somervile
1729: Joseph Mitchell
1753: Rev. John Werge
1758: Rev. James Grainger
1761: William Shenstone
1762: Robert Lloyd
1770 ca.: Adam Smith
1772: Dr. John Aikin
1773: Samuel Johnson
1774: William Richardson
1774: T. V.
1776: James Beattie
1778: J. H.
1778: J. O.
1780 ca.: Alexander Fraser Tytler
1783: Rev. Hugh Blair
1786: John Pinkerton
1787: Robert Burns
1790 ca.: Rev. Alexander Geddes
1791: John Learmont
1791: Robert Cumming
1791: Alexander Wilson
1791: Ebenezer Picken
1794: Joseph Ritson
1794: Robert Alves
1796: Gavin Turnbull
1797: George Dyer
1800 ca.: George Chalmers
1802: Anna Seward
1806: Charles Brockden Brown
1809: J. M'D.
1816: George Colman the Younger
1817: Leigh Hunt
1819: Thomas Campbell
1824: Bryan Waller Procter
1825: Allan Cunningham
1830: Rev. George Barrell Cheever
1832: John Wilson
1851: Dr. David Macbeth Moir
1860: George Gilfillan
1880: William Minto
1882: Epes Sargent
1882: Edmund Gosse
1809: Allan Ramsay
Ye lovers of the Scottish Muse,
Who warm at Ramsay's honour'd name,
Approach, survey the scene recluse,
That lighted his poetic flame.
Approach with fancy's eye, and view
Where now a heath, the rill and grove,
Where once the Gentle Shepherd breath'd
His sweet, his tender tale of love.
Oft on yon mountain's sloping side,
So bright with Phoebus' parting ray,
Where now the raven hoarsely croaks,
And screech-owl skims at twilight grey.
There at the shut of sober eve,
When toil had lent its turn to play,
And man enjoys his sweet reprieve,
Would Patie and his Peggy stray.
Or where yon hawthorn's flowery breast
Diffuses grateful odour round,
While Nature hush'd, retires to rest,
The youthful lovers would be found:
There to unfold no tale of art,
Nor passion known to cold controul;
Love flow'd in rapture from the heart,
And sacred lovers would be found:
O thou that hast a lover kind,
Some dear, some sweet, some lovely maid,
The Gentle Shepherd keep in mind,
Do all he did, say all he said.
What tho' the blind decree of fate
Has doom'd her to the russet gown,
While Fortune, smiling at thy gate,
Has made thee rest on bed of down.
See beauty beam on either eye,
See grace on every action dwell;
A bosom true to pity's sigh,
A heart humanity can swell.
And will the love of lucre vile,
"The world's dread laugh," or kindred's frown,
Make thee this treasure sweet forego,
And Nature's first impulse disown?
No, Nature, I will love thy works,
And love them for themselves alone;
Give me thy sweetest, fairest child,
And earthly bliss I'll call my own.
15th Oct. 1809.