fqllowlhg.poeiu was ritten by Mrs. J. Webb, of Scoílaiid, slxteen years apo, on the occasion of the wnpointmeiil of Henry Wiu.1 Beecher to lecture at tSe c.-lcliration of liurns' lüOth anniversary, Janu:irt, 18:] I learn the taak has fa'n to you To gie the liard o' Ayr his due ; But use him well ; 11e kept sweet charity in view E'eu for the De'iï. His few sroa' fan'ts ye needna tel! ; Folk say ye're no o'er guid yoursel'; But De'ü may care ; Gin ye're but half as guid as Eab, We'll ask na mnir. ThPTi dinna seek to find a ñavr ; But o'er Jus fau'ts a mantlc thraw, Anti leiivo the rost To him wlio made and tried the heai't ; He keus the best. A century henee, an' wha can teil What may beta' ver eaunie sel' ? Some holy preacher May tak' the cudgels up for aue Ca'cd Harry Beecher. I ha'e nae doubt ye'd like to keu AVlia 'tis thaftak's the auld quill pen To write this rhyme ; The knowledfie wad bo Kttle worth- I'm pttöt my prime. But when a lassie younjr and fair, I'ye wandored aft by bonnie Ayr VVi' heartsome glee, E're fate's stern mándate sent me ftirth Far o'er the sea. Still, Scotia's hills and Scotia's plains, Her poets and her poets' strsins, To me are dear - A desert spring within my heard - Thpy claim a tear.