The Humble Petition of Bruar Water to the Noble Duke of Athole

The humble petition of Bruar Water to the noble
Duke of Athole ----

My Lord, I know your noble ear
Woe ne'er assails in vain,
Embolden'd thus I beg you'll hear
Your humble slave complain,
How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams
In flaming summer pride,
Dry-withering waste my foamy streams
And drink my chrystal tide. ----

The lightly-jumping, glowrin trouts
That thro' my waters play,
When in their random, wanton spouts
They near the margin stray,
If, hapless chance! they linger lang,
I'm scorching up sae shallow,
They're left the whitening stanes amang
In gasping death to wallow. ----

Last day I grat wi' spite and teen
Whn Poet B---- cam by,
That to a Bard I should be seen
Wi' half my channel dry:
A panegyric rhyme, I ween,
Even as I was, he shor'd me;
But had I in my glory been
He kneeling, wad ador'd me. ----

Here foaming down the shelving rocks
In twisting strength I rin;
There high my boiling torrent smokes,
Wild-roaring o'er a linn:
Enjoying large each spring and well
As Nature gave them me,
I am, altho' I say't mysel',
Worth gaun a mile to see. ----

Would then my noble Master please
To grant my highest wishes,
 

He'll shade my streams wi' towering trees
And bony spreading bushes:
Delighted doubly then, My Lord,
You'll wander on my banks,
And listen mony a grateful bird
Return you tuneful thanks. ----

The sober Laverock warbling wild
Shall to the skies aspire,
The Bardie, Nature's Music's youngest child,
Shall sweetly join the quire;
The Blackbird strong, the Lintwhite clear,
The Mavis mild and mellow
The Robin pensive Autumn chear
With all her locks of yellow. ----

This too a covert shall ensure
To shield them from the storms,
And coward Maukins sleep secure
Low in her grassy forms:
Here shall the Shepherd find amake his seat
To weave his crown of flowers

Or find a sheltering safe retreat
From prone-descending showers. ----

And here by sweet, endearing stealth
Shall meet the loving Pair,
Despising worlds with all their wealth
As empty, idle care:
The flowers shall vie in all their charms
The hour of Heaven to grace,
And birks extend their fragrant arms
To screen the dear embrace. ----

Here haply too, at vernal dawn
Some musing Bard may stray,
And eye the smoking, dewy lawn,
And misty mountain grey:
Or by the reaper's nightly beam
Mild-chequering thro' the trees,
Rave to my darkly-dashing stream
Hoarse-swelling on the breeze. ----