scots' prologue for mr. sutherland

on his benefit-night, at the theatre, dumfries.

what needs this din about the town o' lon'on,

how this new play an' that new sang isin?

why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted?

does nonsense mend, like brandy, when imported?

is there nae poet, burning keen for fame,

will try to gie us sangs and plays at hame?

foredy abroad he need to toil,

a fool and knave are plants of every soil;

nor need he hunt as far as rome or greece,

to gather matter for a serious piece;

there's themes enow in caledonian story,

would shew the tragic muse in a' her glory.—

is there no daring bard will rise and tell

how glorious wallace stood, how hapless fell?

where are the muses fled that could produce

a drama worthy o' the name o' bruce?

how here, even here, he first unsheath'd the sword

'gainst mighty england and her guilty lord;

and after mony a bloody, deathless doing,

wrench'd his dear country from the jaws of ruin!

o for a shakespeare, or an otway scene,

to draw the lovely, hapless scottish queen!

vain all th' omnipotence of female charms

'gainst headlong, ruthless, mad rebellion's arms:

she fell, but fell with spirit truly roman,

to glut that direst foe—a vengeful woman;