A Dream（1 / 2）

a dream

thoughts, words, and deeds, the statute blames with reason;

but surely dreams were ne'er indicted treason.

on reading, in the public papers, the laureate's ode, with the other parade of june 4th, 1786, the author was no sooner dropt asleep, than he imagined himself transported to the birth-day levee: and, in his dreaming fancy, made the following address:

guid-mornin' to our majesty!

may heaven augment your blisses

on ev'ry new birth-day ye see,

a humble poet wishes.

my bardship here, at your levee

on sic a day as this is,

is sure an uncouth sight to see,

amang thae birth-day dresses

sae fine this day.

i see ye're complimented thrang,

by mony a lord an' lady;

“god save the king” 's a cuckoo sang

that's unco easy said aye:

the poets, too, a venal gang,

wi' rhymes weel-turn'd an' ready,

wad gar you trow ye ne'er do wrang,

but aye unerring steady,

on sic a day.

for me! before a monarch's face

ev'n there i winna flatter;

for neither pension, post, nor place,

am i your humble debtor:

so, nae reflection on your grace,

your kingship to bespatter;

there's mony waur been o' the race,

and aiblins ane been better

than you this day.

'tis very true, my sovereign king,

my skill may weel be doubted;

but facts are chiels that winna ding,

an' downa be disputed:

your royal nest, beneath your wing,

is e'en right reft and clouted,

and now the third part o' the string,

an' less, will gang aboot it

than did ae day.

far be't frae me that i aspire

to blame your legislation,

or say, ye wisdom want, or fire,

to rule this mighty nation:

but faith! i muckle doubt, my sire,

ye've trusted ministration

to chaps wha in barn or byre

wad better fill'd their station

than courts yon day.

and now ye've gien auld britain peace,

her broken shins to plaister,

your sair taxation does her fleece,

till she has scarce a tester:

for me, thank god, my life's a lease,

nae bargain wearin' faster,

or, faith! i fear, that, wi' the geese,

i shortly boost to pasture

i' the craft some day.

i'm no mistrusting willie pitt,

when taxes he enlarges,

(an' will's a true guid fallow's get,

a name not envy spairges),

that he intends to pay your debt,

an' lessen a' your charges;

but, god-sake! let nae saving fit

abridge your bonie barges

an'boats this day.

adieu, my liege; may freedom geck

beneath your high protection;

an' may ye rax corruption's neck,