ON SEEING THE ARCHERS DIVERTING THEMSELVES AT THE BUTS AND ROVERS.

AT THE DESIRE OF SIR WILLIAM BENNET.

HIS DEMAND .

" The Rovers and the Buts you saw,
" And him who gives despotic law;
" In numbers sing what you have seen,
" Both in the garden and the green;
" And how with wine they clos'd the day,
" In harmless toasts, both blyth and gay:
" This to remember be 't thy care,
" How they did justice to the fair. "

THE ANSWER .

S IR , I with much delight beheld
The Royal Archers on the field;
Their garb, their manner, and their game,
Wakes in the mind a martial flame.
To see them draw the bended yew,
Brings bygane ages to our view,
When burnish'd swords and whizzing flanes
Forbade the Norwegans and Danes,
Romans and Saxons, to invade
A nation of nae foes afraid;
Whase virtue and true valour sav'd
Them bravely from their b'ing enslav'd:
Esteeming 't greater not to be,
Than lose their darling liberty.
How much unlike! — but mum for that,
Some beaux may snarl if we should prat.
When av'rice, luxury, and ease,
A tea-fac'd generation please,
Whase pithless limbs in silks o'er-clad,
Scarce bear the lady-handed lad
Frae 's looking-glass into the chair,
Which bears him to blaflum the fair,
Wha by their actions come to ken
Sic are but in appearance men.
These ill could bruik, without a beild,
To sleep in boots upon the field;
Yet rise as glorious as the sun,
To end what greatly they begun.
Nor could it suit their taste and pride
To eat an ox boil'd in his hide;
Or quaff pure element, ah me!
Without ream, sugar, and bohea.

Hail, noble ghosts of each brave sire!
Whose sauls glow'd with a god-like fire:
If you 're to guardian posts assign'd,
And can with greatness warm the mind;
Breathe manly ardours in your race,
Communicate that martial grace,
By which thro' ages you maintain'd
The Caledonian rights unstain'd;
That when our nation makes demands,
She may ne'er want brave hearts and hands.

Here, Sir, I must your pardon ask,
If I have started from my task;
For when the fancy takes a flight,
We seldom ken where it will light.

But we return to view the band,
Under the regular command
Of ane wha arbitrarly sways,
And makes it law whate'er he says:
Him honour and true reason rule,
Which makes submission to his will
Nae slav'ry, but a just delight,
Whiles he takes care to keep them right;
Wha never lets a cause depend
Till the pursuer's power 's at end;
But, like a minister of state,
He speaks, and there 's no more debate:
Best government, were subjects sure
To find a prince fit for sic pow'r.

But drop we cases not desir'd.
To paint the Archers now retir'd
From healthfu' sport, to cheerfu' wine,
Stength to recruit, and wit refine;
Where innocent and blythsome tale
Permits nae sourness to prevail:
Here, Sir, you never fail to please,
Wha can, in phrase adapt with ease,
Draw to the life a' kind of fowks,
Proud shaups, dull coofs, and gabbling gowks,
Gielaingers, and each greedy wight,
You place them in their proper light;
And when true merit comes in view,
You fully pay them what 's their due.

While circling wheels the hearty glass,
Well-flavour'd with some lovely lass;
Or with the bonny fruitfu' dame,
Wha brightens in the nuptial flame:

My lord, your toast, the preses cries;
To lady Charlotte, he replies:
Now, Sir, let 's hear your beauty bright;
To lady Jean, returns the knight.
To Hamilton a health gaes round,
And one to Eglinton is crown'd.
How sweet they taste! — Now, Sir, you say;
Then drink to her that 's far away,
The lov'd Southesk. — Neist, Sir, you name;
I give you Basil's handsome dame.
Is 't come to me? then toast the fair
That 's fawn, O Cockburn, to thy skair.
How hearty went these healths about!
How blythly were they waughted out!
To a' the stately, fair, and young,
Frae Haddington and Hopton sprung;
To Lithgow's daughter in her bloom,
To dear Mackay, and comely Home;
To Creightons every way divine,
To Haldane streight as any pine.
O how delicious was the glass
Which was perfum'd with lovely Bess!
And sae these rounds were flowing gi'en,
To sisters Nisbet, Nell, and Jean;
To sweet Montgomery shining fair;
To Priestfield twins, delightfu' pair;
To Katies four of beauteous fame,
Stuart and Cochran lady claim,
Third Hamilton, fourth Ardress name;
To Peggies Pentland, Bang, and Bell;
To Minto's mate, and lively Nell;
To Gordons ravishingly sweet;
To Maule, in whom the graces meet;
To Hepburn, wha has charms in store;
To Pringle, harmony all o'er;
To the polite Kinloch and Hay;
To Wallace, beautifu' and gay;
To Campbell, Skeen, and Rutherfoord;
To Maitland fair, the much ador'd;
To Lockhart with the sparkling een;
To bonny Crawford ever green;
To Stuarts mony a dazzling bairn,
Of Invernytie and Denairn;
To gracefu' Sleigh and Oliphant;
To Nasmith, Baird, Scot, Grier, and Grant;
To Clerk, Anstruther, Frank, and Graham;
To Deans, agreeing with her name.
Where are we now? — Come, to the best
In Christendom, and a' the rest.
Dear nymphs unnam'd, lay not the blame
On us, or on your want of fame,
That in this list you do not stand;
For heads give way: — but there's my hand,
The neist time we have sic a night,
We 'll not neglect to do ye right.

Thus beauties rare, and virgins fine,
With blooming belles, enliven'd our wine,
Till a' our noses 'gan to shine.

Then down we look'd upon the great,
Who 're plagu'd with guiding of the state;
And pity'd each phlegmatic wight,
Whose creeping sauls ken nae delight,
But keept themselves ay on the gloom,
Startled with fears of what 's to come.
Poor passion! sure by fate design'd
The mark of an inferior mind:
To Heav'n a filial fear we awe,
But fears nane else a man should shaw.

Lads, cock your bonnets, bend your bows,
And, or in earnest, or in mows,
Be still successful, ever glad,
In Mars's or in Venus' bed;
Sae bards aloud shall chaunt your praise,
And ladies shall your spirits raise.

Thus, Sir, I've sung what you requir'd,
As Mars and Venus have inspir'd:
While they inspire, and you approve,
I 'll sing brave deeds, and safter love,
Till great Apollo say, " Well done! "
And own me for his native son.