Chapter II: Canto I

Goff, and the _Man_, I sing, who, em'lous, plies
The jointed club, whose balls invade the skies,
Who from _Edina's_ tow'rs, his peaceful home,
In quest of fame o'er _Letha's_ plains did roam.
Long toil'd the hero, on the verdant field,
Strain'd his stout arm the weighty club to wield;
Such toils it cost, such labours to obtain
The bays of conquest, and the bowl to gain.
O thou GOLFINIA, Goddess of these plains!
Great Patroness of GOFF! indulge my strains;
Whether beneath the _thorn-tree_ shade you lie,
Or from _Mercerian_ tow'rs the game survey,
Or round the green the flying ball you chase,
Or make your bed in some hot sandy _face_:
Leave your much-lov'd abode, inspire his lays
Who sings of GOFF, and sings thy fav'rite's praise.
North from _Edina_ eight furlongs and more,
Lies that fam'd field, on _Fortha's_ sounding shore.
Here _Caledonian_ Chiefs for health resort,
Confirm their sinews by the manly sport.
_Macdonald_ and unmatch'd _Dalrymple_ ply
Their pond'rous weapons, and the green defy;
_Rattray_ for skill, and _Corse_ for strength renown'd,
_Stewart_ and _Lesly_ beat the sandy ground,
And _Brown_ and _Alston_, Chiefs well known to fame,
And numbers more the Muse forbears to name.
Gigantic _Biggar_ here full oft is seen,
Like huge behemoth on an _Indian_ green;
His bulk enormous scarce can 'scape the eyes,
Amaz'd spectators wonder how he plies.
Yea, here great _Forbes_,[1] patron of the just,
The dread of villains and the good man's trust,
When spent with toils in serving human kind,
His body recreates, and unbends his mind.
Bright _Phoebus_ now had measur'd half the day,
And warm'd the earth with genial noon-tide ray;
Forth rush'd _Castalio_ and his daring foe,
Both arm'd with clubs, and eager for the blow.
Of finest ash Castalio's shaft was made,
Pond'rous with lead, and fenc'd with horn the head
(The work of _Dickson_, who in _Letha_ dwells,
And in the art of making clubs excels),
Which late beneath great _Claro's_ arm did bend,
But now is wielded by his greater friend.
Not with more fury _Norris_ cleav'd the main,
To pour his thund'ring arms on guilty _Spain_;
Nor with more haste brave _Haddock_ bent his course
To guard _Minorca_ from _Iberian_ force,--
Than thou, intrepid hero, urg'd thy way
O'er roads and sands, impatient for the fray.
With equal warmth _Pygmalion_ fast pursu'd
(With courage oft are little wights endued),
'Till to GOLFINIA'S downs the heroes came,
The scene of combat and the field of fame.
Upon a verdant bank by _Flora_ grac'd,
Two sister Fairies found the Goddess plac'd;
Propp'd by her snowy hand her head reclin'd,
Her curling locks hung waving in the wind.
She eyes intent the consecrated green,
Crowded with waving clubs and vot'ries keen,
And hears the prayers of youths to her address'd,
And from the hollow face relieves the ball distress'd.
On either side the sprightly Dryads sat,
And entertained the Goddess with their chat.
First VERDURILLA, thus: O rural Queen!
What chiefs are those that drive along the green?
With brandish'd clubs the mighty heroes threat,
Their eager looks foretell a keen debate.
To whom GOLFINIA: Nymph, your eyes behold
_Pygmalion_ stout, _Castalio_ brave and bold.
From silver _Ierna's_ banks _Castalio_ came,
But first on _Andrean_ plains he courted fame.
His sire, a Druid, taught (one day of seven)
The paths of virtue, the sure road to heaven.
In _Pictish_ capital the good man passed
His virtuous life, and there he breath'd his last.
The son now dwells in fair _Edina's_ town,
And on our sandy plains pursues renown.
See low _Pygmalion_, skilled in GOFFING art,
Small is his size, but dauntless is his heart:
Fast by a desk in _Edin's_ domes he sits,
With _saids_ and _sicklikes_ length'ning out the writs.
For no mean prize the rival chiefs contend,
But full rewards the victor's toils attend.
The vanquish'd hero for the victor fills
A mighty bowl containing thirty gills;
With noblest liquor is the bowl replete;
Here sweets and acids, strength and weakness meet.
From _Indian_ isles the strength and sweetness flow,
And _Tagus'_ banks their golden fruits bestow;
Cold _Caledonia's_ lucid streams controul
The fiery spirits, and fulfil the bowl;
For _Albion's_ peace and _Albion's_ friends they pray,
And drown in _Punch_ the labours of the day.
The Goddess spoke, and thus GAMBOLIA pray'd:
Permit to join in brave _Pygmalion's_ aid,
O'er each deep road the hero to sustain,
And guide his ball to the desired plain.
To this the Goddess of the manly sport:
Go, and be thou that daring chief's support.
Let VERDURILLA be _Castalio's_ stay;
I from this flow'ry seat will view the fray.
She said: the nymphs trip nimbly o'er the green,
And to the combatants approach unseen.

END OF CANTO I.

[Footnote 1: Duncan Forbes, Lord President of the Court of Session in Scotland.]

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