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POOR BODIES DO NAETHING BUT MOW.

Tune—"The Campbells are Coming."

This is by Burns. Writing to Cleghorn (December 12, 1792), he says—"By our good friend Crossbie, I send you a song just finished this moment. May the d——l follow with a blessing. Amen!" To Thomson, in July, 1794, he writes—"The needy man, who has known better times, can only console himself with a song, thus— 'While princes and prelates,' &c," When he was called in question about his political opinions, he wrote the following to Graham of Fintry (January 5, 1793)—"A tippling ballad which I made on Prince of Brunswick's breaking up his camp, and sung one convivial evening, I shall likewise send you, sealed up, as it's not for everybody's reading. This last is not worth your perusal; but lest Mrs. Fame should, as she has already done, use and even abuse her old privilege of lying, you shall be the master of everything, le pour et le contre, of my political writings and conduct."

When princes and prelates,  And hot-headed zealots A' Europe had set in a lowe, lowe, lowe,  The poor man lies down,  Nor envies a crown, But contents himself wi' a mow, mow, mow.   And why shouldna poor bodies mow, mow, mow?  And why shouldna poor bodies mow? The rich they hae siller, and houses, and land,  Poor bodies hae naething but mow.  When Brunswick's great Prince  Gaed a crushing to France, Republican billies to cow, cow, cow,  Great Brunswick's strange Prince  Would have shown better sense, At hame wi' his Princess to mow, mow, mow.  And why shouldna, &c.