FAREWELL ADDRESS TO BURNS. 629 



favourite Flighty silks, Flighty muffs,, bonnets a la Flighty, and 

 Flighty flannel petticoats. 



. Such was the glory that I acquired by my harangue, but even 

 celebrity like this could not satisfy me. I entered into the army, 

 and fought at all our most celebrated victories under the great duke. 

 While actively engaged with half a dozen French lancers (with whom 

 I played the devil), I was taken prisoner, and presented to Napoleon. 

 His penetration soon discovered my genius for war, and he would 

 have bribed me to turn my arms against my country ; but with indig- 

 nation I spurned the attempt, though accompanied with the offer of 

 being made marshal of France. I escaped and returned to England, 

 where for my services I was created a baron. At the battle of 

 Waterloo I fought again, and may be allowed to take the opportunity 

 of correcting an error into which some have fallen in confounding 

 me with the Marquis of Anglesey. It was 7 that led on the guards 

 in the gallant manner described it was / that beat down the French 

 cavalry ; in fact (a word in your ear, gentle reader, let it go no fur- 

 ther), it was I that gained the victory. I believe about this time I 

 was married to a princess of some place or other, but that has almost 

 escaped my memory. 



And now who shall say that I deserve not a niche as well as many. 

 True I have been the only gainer ; is not that the case with many ? 

 I blow at will my bubbles in the sun they glitter awhile and burst ; 

 how many reputations originate after the same fashion, and explode 

 after the same transitory existence ! My habits of Castle-building, at 

 all events, have allowed me to see much of life, associate with ex- 

 cellent company, and live a life of comparative pleasantry. I know 

 no maundering and grumbling. I eat the bread of comfort, and lie 

 down by the streams of happiness. My whole being is a delicious 

 sleep my whole experience a delicious dream and 



" Hors'd on the sightless couriers of the air," 



I ride away into the realms of blessedness. Oh ! happy is the man 

 who is a Castle-builder ! W. 



FAREWELL ADDRESS TO BURNS, 



BY ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 



My task is ended fareweel, Robin ! 

 My prentice muse stands sad and sobbin' 

 To think thy country kept thee scrubbin* 



Her barmy barrels, 

 Of strains immortal mankind robbin', 



And thee of laurels. 



Let learning's Greekish grubs cry humph ! 

 Hot zealots groan, cold critics grumph, 

 And ilka starr'd and garter'd sumph 



Yawn, hum and ha ; 

 In glory's pack thou art a trumph, 



And sweeps them a'. 



M.M. No. 108. 4 M 



