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THE $}octtcat WORKS
ROBERT BURNS.
70 WHICH IS PREFIXED THE AUTHOR’S LIFE.
Eonfcon: TEIXTED FOU THE BOOKSELLERS: JtXD FOR J. KKNDREWy COLLIBRGATEj YORK, 1822. £ I ©DEg % 1980 LIFE OF ROBERT BURNS.
^Robert^vas born Burns,on the 25ththe subject January of these1759, memoirs, on the |to■banks which of Doon,stand theabout ruins two of miles Alloway from Kirk, Ayr, nearnow wShanter.pcelebrated by his admirable tale of Tam o’ His father, William Burns, originally from ^Kincardineshire,tuations, at last settledafter serving in Ayrshire in a variety as a ofgar- si- maintaineddener, but soona very afterwards respectable turned character. farmer. HeIn :17o7,Jhe first-born he married of this Agnes marriage. Brown. He Robertwas sent was to taughtSchool towhen read about English, six yearsand writeold, awhere little; he andwas ificiency.wt the age Heof eleven was taught he had the arrived rudiments at great of arith- pro. paeticJtus writes by his of father, his early in thedays, winter in his evenings. letter to Dr.He ■ Moore,javourite “ withAt those any yearsbody—I I was was by ano good means deal a iotedOmething for a inretentive my disposition, memory, and a stubborn an enthusiastic sturdy LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. thenidiot butpiety a ; child—ThoughIsay, idiot piety, it cost because the school-'I wa.t i Englishroaster somescholar; thrashings, and by theI madetime I anwas excellent. ten orv tives,eleven verbs, years ofand age, particles—In I was a critic my in infant substanJ andi boyishwho resided days, intoo, the I owedfamily, much remarkable to an old forwoman: her! ignorance,I suppose, credulity,the largest and collection superstition. in the Shecountry, had, offairies, tales brownies, and songs, witches, concerning warlocks, devils, spunkies, ghosts,, ritions,kelpies, cantraips,elf-candles, giants, dead-lights, enchanted wraiths, towers, appa- dra- t gons,latent andseeds other of poetry trumpery. ; but hadThis so cultivated strong an dieeft nocturnalfeet on my rambles, imagination, I sometimes that to this keep hour, a insharp my ii bodylook outcan inbe suspicious more sceptical places; than and 1 amthough in suclno- itf tomatters, shake yetoff theseit often idle takes terrors.” an effort of philosophy t Young Burns had now acquired a great proj l,, pensityever book for fell reading, in his wayand :eagerly but still perused he had whan no( I discoverednor betrayed any the signs smallest of that inclination striking toready poetry wit i,Ij bothlasting of whichfame. haveMr. sinceMurdoch, conferred who upon instructed: him i , himbert in(his English brother) and always writing, appeared remarks, to possessthat Gil i- witmore than lively Robert.” imagination, Robert's and toface be was more generallj of thi ( live,grave, and and thoughtful expressive mind—Gilbert’s of a serious, contemplq face saici , ifMirth any withperson, thee who I mean knew to live!—andthe two boys, certainly ha LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. beento court asked the whichMuses, of he them would was surely the mostnever likely have supposedkind.” that Robert had a propensity of that The first circumstance which induced our youthfulis very interesting, poet to warble on hisaccount “ wild of artless the elegantnotes,” simplicityscription of which his harvestdistinguishes partner: the following“ She was de- a i bonnie,gether, unwittinglysweet, sonsie to lass. herself, In short,initiated she me alto- in - , disappointment,that delicious passion, gin-horse which, prudence, inspite and of luke-acid joys,warm ourphilosophy, dearest blessing I hold hereto be below.the first Indeed,(f human I rp5 *\ loiterdid not behind know withmyself her, why when I likedreturning so much in theto voiceevening made from my our heart-strings labours ; why thrill the like tones an of yRo- her liansuch harp; a furious and ratan, particularly, when I lookedwhy my and pulse fingered beat ’>' stingsher and little thistles. hand, t pick out the cruel nettle poetry;Thus,” which says at timeshe, “ havewith mebeen began my only, love and tillenjoyment. within the last twelve months, my highest farmIt that is during my little the timestory thatis most we livedeventfuL on this I 'i .'was,' most atungainly the beginning awkward of thisboy period,in the perhapsparish—no the j'if.)1b '. ■world.solitaire was less acquainted with the ways of the ters“ Ina brush, my seventeenth I went to a year,country to dancing-school*give my man. 6 LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. against—My fatherthese meetings,had an unaccountableand my going was,antipathy what; i towishes. this momentMy father I repent, was subject in opposition to strong to pas-his i hesions took ; from a dislike that instanceto me, which,of disobedience I believe, in me,wasl succeedingone cause ofyears. the dissipationI say dissipation, which marked compara- myj gularitytively with of presbyterianthe strictness, country and sobriety, life ; for andthough: reJ thewere will-o’-wisp almost the solemeteors lights ofof mythoughtless path, yet whim; early afterwardsengrained pietywithin .and the virtue line keptof innocence. me several years:The) 1great had misfortunefelt early some of my stirrings life was of to ambition, want an aim.buti clopsthey wereround the the blind walls gropings of his cave.of Homer’s I saw Cy-Imyj bour.father’s Thesituation only twoentailed openings, on me by whichperpetual I could la- entergardly the economy, temple ofor fortune,the path was of thelittle gate chicaning of nig-j aperture,bargain-making: I never couldThe firstsqueeze is so myself contracted into itaiv thetion last in theI always very entrance. hated—there Thus was abandoned contaminaJ of aim,sociability, or view as in well life, from with native a strong hilarity, appetite as from fon tionala pride melancholy, of observation or hypochondriasm, and remark ; a thatconstitu- made melife, fly my. solitude; reputation add tofor these bookish incentives knowledge, to social aj thought,certain wildsomething logical like talent, the rudimentsand strength of good of sense,generally and ait welcomewill not seemguest surprising where I visited,that 1 was or| anythree greatmet wonder,together thatthere always was I whereamong two them! or LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 7 j But far beyond all other impulses of my heart •-t humain.was, vn penchantMy heart a radorablcwas completely muiticc tinder, du genre and e, otherwas eternally ; and as, lighted in every up otherby some warfare goddess in this or is j1 world, my fortune was various, sometimes I was v 1 tidedreceived with with a repulse. favour, andAt sometimesthe plough, I scythe,Was mor- or ■t.a ; reaping-hook,I set absolute wantI feared at defiance no competitor, ; and as and I r. thus:ver ■iyn i)i caredactual fartherexercise, for I my spent labours the thanevenings while in I awas way in rs } after my own heart.” itu jS hisAbout father, a twelvemonthBurns, who previoushad then to attained'histhe death of ...',, | twenty-fourthin a situation year,to enable became him anxious to marry. to be fixedHis a-id J1 heldbrother a small Gilbert portion and ofhe land had fromfor severaltheir father, years ng.. |' ?fon thewhich produce they chieflyof their raised labour, flax. our AuthorIn disposing took ...an , itaccordingly into his head continued to commence at that business flaxdresser for aboutHe ...of [ forsix themonths, shop butsome it timeproved after an taking unlucky fire, concern was ut- ; .,t: terly destroyed, and he was left not worth a six- il4 pence. e Immediately before the death of their father, :id, i giel,Burns consisting and his brotherof 118 acres,took theat £90 farm per of annum, Mcss- 'of?1 savingsIt was stockedof the bywhole the family,property and and was individual a joint il:,t. concern.£” per annum The eachallowance ; and tofor the four two years, brothers at wasthis jt . timeresidence as well with as duringhis father the periodat Lochlea, of seven his years ex- byhe wassubscription. advised to publishWith thea volume first fruits of his poem*of his purchasedpoetical labours, a few hearticles had ofpaid clothing, his passage, &c. andflu LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. Q chest was already on the way to Greenock, when abation letter offrom the Dr Poems, Blacklock, and signifyingan assurance his appro- that burghBurns forwould a second meet withedition, encouragement completely inchanged Edin- hisSoon intentions. after his arrival in Edinburgh, his Poems procuredPersons of him rank the and admiration power were of notall aboveconditions. tak- ingname notice of Burns of him; was celebratedand, in aover short all time,the king- the dom.nour, thatIt ought he had here been to inbe Edinburghmentioned onlyto his a fewho- whenmonths, he anderected was astill monument in the midstin the ofCanongate poverty, butChurch-yard unfortunate to poet,the memory Fergusson. of the celebrated In Edinburgh, Burns beheld mankind in a newbis light.days wereSurrounded passed onin allthe sides company by admirers, of the lifegreat, he his led evenings nearly in a dissipation.twelvemonth, This when kind his of afriends permanent suggested establishment. to him the necessity of seeking in HavingFebruary settled 1788, with Burns his foundpublisher, himsalf Mr. master Creech, of allnearly his expenses.live hundred Two pounds, hundred after pounds discharging he im- hadmediately taken advancedupon himself to his the brother support Gilbert, of his agedwho mother,ties in the and farm was of struggling Mossgiel. withWith many the difficul-remain- derfits fromof this his sum, Poems, and somehe determined farther eventual on settling pro- andhimself took for from life inMr. the Milleroccupation of Dalswinton, of agriculture, the 10 LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. Kith,farm ofsix Ellisland, miles above on Dumfries,the banks toof whichthe river he enteredviously onrecommended Whitsunday to 171M1. the BoardHaving of been Excise, pre- forhis thename humble had been office put of on a gaugerthe list or of exciseman candidates ; formationand he immediately necessary forapplied filling to thatacquiring office, the when in- theemploy honourable him. HeBoard expected might judgeto be it called proper into to tuated,service inand the vainly district hoped in which to unite his withfarm success,was si- theexciseman. labours of the farmer with the duties of the When Burns bad in this manner arranged his- plansthe object for futurity, of his mosthis generous ardent attachment,heart turned and to listeningnour and toaftection, no considerations, he joined with but herthose in aof pub- ho- union,lic declaration and rendering of marriage; it permanent thus legalizing for life. their moveIt was immediately not convenient from Ayrshire, for Mrs andBums our to poet re- land,therefore to preparetook up forhis theresidence reception alone of athis Ellis- wife andof tire children, year. who joined him towards the end riodIt ofis histo be life, lamented our poet that, was withoutat this criticalthe society pe- takenof his placewife andin his children. situation A; his great old habitschange werehad brokenwas placed, ; and were the newcalculated circumstances to give ain new which direc- he plicationtion to his to thoughts the cares and and conduct. labours Butof his his fadm ap- LIFE OF THE AUTHOB. 11 ; was interrupted by several visits to his family in i aAyrshire; single day’s and journey, as the distance he generally was too spent great a night for : atsometimes an inn on fell the into road. company, On such and forgotoccasions, the re-lie I solutionstation assailed he had him formed. nearer home.In a little while temp. 1 His fame naturally drew upon him the atten- '1 neraltion of acquaintance his neighbours, in theand districthe soon informed which a ge-he onlived. the subjectThe public of his voice talents; had thenow receptionpronounced he *‘ hadcurrency met withwhich in Edinburgh,fashion bestows; had given he hadhim sur-the }j mountedbirth ; and the he prejudices was received arising at thefrom tables his humbleof the ?| kindness,gentlemen and of evenKithsdale, with respect.with welcome, Their socialwith <» partieshours and too hisoften rustic seduced fare, himoverthrew' from his the rustic unsteady la- J pensities,fabric of hiswhich resolutions, temperance and might inflamed have those weaken- pro- ; noted, andlong, prudence therefore, ultimately before Burns suppressed. began toIt view was 1; hiswith farm disgust. with dislike and despondence, if, not Unfortunately, he had for several years look- j' edof livelihood,to an office shouldin the excise,his other as expectations a certain means fail. . commendedAs has already to thebeen Board mentioned, of Excise, he hadand beenhad re- !, tuation.ceived the Heinstructions now applied necessary to be employed; for such aand, si- |! byappointed the interest exciseman, of Mr. or Graham as it is vulgarlyof Fintra, called, was [ gauger, of the district in which he lived. His LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. farm was after this, in a great measure, aban- donedthe duties to servantsof his new while appointments. he betook himselfHe at last to soldto Dumfries. his stock and farming utensils, and removed whenIn Autumnhe was at 1795, such hea distance lost his as only prevented daughter, him fromHe hadpaying scarcely the last begun melancholy to recover duties from to her.this vereshock, rheumatic when he fever.again becameAs soon the as victimhe was of able a se- to ofventure sea-bathing. abroad, heFor was thisadvised purpose, to try aboutthe effect the shoreend of of June Solway 179fi, Frith, he where went heto continued Brow, on about the threehis return weeks to without Dumfries, reaping he anywas advantage. seized with On a lifenew and attack sufferings of the offever, tins whichgreat, butterminated ill-requited the genius,the thirty-eight on Thursday, year of the his 21st age. of July, 1799, in stance,Though yet Burnshis integrity died in and very honest indigent pride, circum- with theBurns, frugality, prevented industry, him from and runningprudence into of debt.Mrs. forSoon his after widow his anddeath children, a subscription in most ofwas the opened prin- cipalconsiderable cities of fund the Unitedwas raised. Kingdoms, The profitsby which aris- a ingWorks, from in Dr. four Currie’s large volumes, valuable were edition also devotedof his tothus the been same procured charitable for purpose. the widow, An annuitywhich willhas enablesuitable her to tothe bringcondition up herof their children worthy in father. a way LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 13 There Is no need for us to say what Burns was—ortold us in what immortal he was language: not: This and he hasthe himselffollow, ingsilence most both pathetic his friends and sublime and his enemies—ifstanza ought ene- to miesdowed. there For can while, indeed with be toall athe man proud so conscious-nobly en- nessgifts ofwhich genius (iod and had virtue, bestowed he there on him, glories there in thetoo doesture,” he, own, “with in prostrationcompunctious of visitingsspirit, that of na-the fromlight heaven.”which led him astray was not always “light “ WasThe poorquick Inhabitant to learn and below wise to know. And aft had felt theAnd kindly safter glow. flame; But thoughtless folliesAnd laid stained him hislow, name.’* 14 ON THE DEATH OF BURNS. ON THE DEATH OF BURNS. BY MR. ROSCOE. RearThy highshelter’d thy bleakvalleys majestic proudly hills, spread. And,And Scotia, wave thypour heaths thy thousand with blossoms rills, red ; But,Thy ah airy ! what heights, poet nowthy woodlandshall tread reign. SinceThat he ever the breath’dsweetest bardthe soothing is dead strain ? AsAs green clear thy thy towering streams pinesmay speedmay grow, along, AsAnd bright wake thy again summer thy sunsfeathery may throng;glow. ButAnd now, dull unheeded and lifeless is the all song, around, ForAnd his coldwild theharp hand lies thatall unstrung, wak’d its sound. WhatIn arts tho’ and thy arms vig’rous thy sonsoffspring excel; rise; Tho’And beauty health in in thy every daughters’ feature dwell;eyes, YetIn whostrains shall impassion’d, now their praises fond and tell, free, SinceTo helove, no andmore liberty, the song and shall thee swell! WithHis step-damehapless youth eye andwhy frowndidst thousevere view ? ForAnd all allthy his joys vows to him to thee were were dear. due: NorIn greater opening bliss youth’s his bosom delightful knew, prime, ON THE DEATH OF BURNS. IS ThanTo listenwhen tothy his favouring chanted earrhyme. he drew ThyTo lonely him were wastes all andwith frowning rapture fraught;skies HeThat heard waked with joyhim theto sublimertempest risethought 5 AndWhere oft thy wild winding flowers dellspour’d he their sought, rathe perfume, AndTo with thee sincerethe summer’s devotion earliest brought bloom. But,His ah unprotected ! no fond maternalyouth enjoy’d: smile HisHis limbs days inur’d with earlyto early hardships toil. tried: AndAnd more bid tohim mark feel thehis gloomymisery. void, BeforeDay-dreams his infant of eyesimmortality. would glide Yet,With not sinewyby cold arm neglect he turn’d depress’d, the soil, SunkAnd with met the at momevening his sun earliest to rest, smile. Wak’dThe powersby his rusticof fancy pipe, came meanwhile along. AndWith sooth’d native his wit lengthen’d and sprightly hour ofsong. toil .—AhWhen ! days vigorous of bliss, health too fromswiftly labour fled, springs, AndAnd bland sleep contentment his ready opiate smooths brings the ;bed. AndFloat hovering the light round forms on ofairy young wings desire, ThatThe of soft unutterable and shadowy things hope inspire. 16 ON THE DEATH OF BURNS. NowBid spells brighter of mightier phantoms power round prepare. him dance; LetAnd flattery fame spread attract her his viewless vagrant snare,glance : LetUnveil’d sprightly her pleasure eyes, unclasp’d too advance. her zone, TillHe lost scorn in love’sthe joys delirious his youth trance has known. LetExpanding friendship allpour the her bloom brightest of soul; blaze, AndAnd mirth point concentre them from all herthe sparklingrays, bowl; AndIn letsocial the pleasurescareless moments unconfin’d, roll AndUnlock confidence the inmost that spurnssprings control. of mind. AndWhere lead hiselegance steps withthose splendour bowers among. vies. OrTo science more bidsrefin’d her sensationsfavour’d throngrise; BeyondAnd freedthe peasant’s from each humbler laborious joys. strife. ThereThat let waits him thelearn sons the of bliss polish’d to prize life. ThenWith whilst every his impulse throbbing of delight. veins beat high DashAnd from shroud his lipsthe scenethe cup in ofshades joy. of night ; AndDisclose let despair, the yawning with wizard gulph light, below. AndHer pour spectred incessant ills andon his shapes sight, of woe: AndWith shew sorrowing beneath hearta cheerless and streaming shed, eyes, ON THE DEATH OF BURNS. 1? In Thesilent partner grief whereof his droopsearly joys; her head, AndHis let fond his infants’parental tendersuccour cries claim. AndA husbandbid him hearand ain father’s agonies name. JTis! His done, high the reluctant powerful spirit charm bends succeeds ; ; In[) Norbitterness longer of with soul his he fate bleeds, contends. ^n1 As idiot genius laugh thus the degraded welkin rends lies ; Tilli That pitying shrouds Heaven the Poet’sthe veil ardent extends eyes. % ThyRear shelter’dhigh thy valleysbleak majesticproudly hills,spread, ?And, And Scotia, wave thypour heaths thy thousand with blossoms rills, red ; but[ Thy never airy more heights, shall thy poet woodland tread reign, fSince That he ever the breath’dsweetest bardthe soothing is dead strain. DEDICATION. TO THE NOBLEMEN AND GENTLEMEN OF THE CALEDONIAN HUNT. My Lords and Gentlemen, Awhose Scottish highest am-bitionBard, proudis to singof the in name,his Coun- and fortry’s patronage, service—where as to theshall illustrious he so properlynames of look his inheritnative land;the virtues those of whotheir bearAncestors the honours? The Poetic and pheticGenius bard of myElijah Country did EHsha—at found me, theas Ploughthe pro- ; andme singthrew the her loves, inspiring the joys, mantle the over rural me. scenes, She hade and tongue:rural pleasures I tuned of my my wild, native artless soil, notes in my as shenative in- spiredMetropolis She of whispered Caledonia, me and to laycome my to Songs this ancient under tates.your honoured protection : I now obey her dic- do Thoughnot approach much you, indebted my Lords to your and goodness,Gentlemen, I infor thepast usual favours style { thatof dedication, path is so hackneyedto thank youby prostitutedashamed of Learning,it. Nor do that I present honest thisRusticity Address is DEDICATION. m with the venal soul of a servile Author, looking j forto the a continuation Plough, and of am those independent. favours : I Iwas come bred to ^illustriousclaim the commonCountrymen Scottish ; and name to tell with the worldyou, thatmy Country,I glory in that the thetitle. blood I ofcome her toancient congratulate Heroes stillmy knowledge,runs uncontaminated; and public andthatfromyourcourage,spirit, she may expect pro- “_ tection,I come wealth,to protfer and myliberty. warmest In thewishes last toplace, the * Universe,Oreat Fountain for your of Honour,welfare and the happiness. Monarch of the When you go forth to waken the Echoes in .: the ancient and favourite amusement of your ' andForefathers, may Social may Joy Pleasure await everyour be return of your : party;When ! | harassedbad men inand courts bad or measures, camps with may the jostlingsthe honest of ! .consciousnessturn to your ofnative injured seats; Worth and attendmay Domesticyour re. atHappiness, your gates with ! May a smiling Corruption welcome, shrink meet at youryou |: kindling, indignant glance; and may tyranny ' iI inequally the Ruler, find you and an licentiousness inexorable foe in ! the People, : • I have the honour to be, ‘ ; With the sincerest gratitude, and highest respect, My Lords and Gentlemen, Your most devoted, humble Servant, ROBERT BURJfS. AprilEdinburgh, 4th, 1787. V$ CONTENTS.
The Twa Dogs, a Tale 25 Scotch Drink 323fi The Author’sHoly Fair Earnest Cry and Prayer 42 DeathThe Brigs and ofDoctor Ayr Hornbook : 5349 The CalfOrdination 65Cl AddressThe Death to andthe DyingDeil YY’ords of Poor Mailie : 6670 PoorTo James Mailie’s Smith, Elegy Merchant, ... Mauchline... 7275 AThe Dream Vision 82711 AddressTam Samson’s to the UncoElegy Guid 9391 TheHalloween Auld Farmer’sY New-Year Morning 97 ToSalutation a Mouse to his Auld Mare Maggie .... 109106 EpistleA YVinter to Davie,Night a Brother Poet 114111 Despondency,The Lament an Ode 116120 Winter,The Cotter’s a Dirge Saturday Night .»... 123122 AMan Prayer, was made in the to Prospect Mourn, ofa Dirge Death 131129 VersesStanzas left on atthe a sameFriend’s Occasion House 133132 CONTENTS. 21 To a Mountain Daisy 134 To RumMiss Logan 135136 LpistleOn a .Scotch to a YoungBard, goneFriend to the West Indies 139137 ATo Dedication a Haggis to Gavin Hamilton, Esq. ... 141142 AddressTo a Louse to Edinburgh 146147 EpistleTo the sameto J. Lapraik, an old Scottish Bard 149153 EpistleTo AVilliam to J. Rankin,Simpson, enclosing Ochiltree some Poems 1561G2 Ode,Writtenin sacred Friars-Carsc to the Memory Hermitage, of Mrs Nithsideof — 1C4166 ^LamentElegy on of Captain Mary*Queen Matthew of HendersonScots 167171 'ToLament Robert for Graham,James, Earl Esq. of of Glencairn Fintra 175172 Lines,foord, sent Bart, to Sir with John the AYhitefoord foregoing ofWhite-Poem ... 177 OnTam seeing o’ Shanter, a Wounded a Talc Hare limp by me ... 134176 AddressOn the late to theCaptain Shade Grose’s of Thomson Peregrinations ib. Tothrough Miss Cruikshanks, Scotland a very young Lady 137133 OnJohn reading M‘Leod, in a Newspaper Esq the Death of 186 OnThe scaring Humble some Petition Water-Fowl of Bruar in Loch-TuritWater .... 189192 i Writtenpiece ofwith the aInn Pencil at Kenmure, over the TaymouthChimney- 193 Writtenof Fyers, with near a Pencil Loch-Ness standing by the Fall 194 OnSecond the EpistleBirth of to a Davie,Posthumous a Brother Child Poet... 1U6195 22 CONTENTS. Epitaph on a celebrated Ruling Elder ...... 197 , , onon aWee Noisy Johnny Polemic ib.198 forfor the Robert Author’s Aitken, Father Esq ib.ib. A,-r Eard’s for Epitaph Gavin Hamilton, Esq. ib.
SONGS. JohnA Fragment, Barleycorn, “ When a Ballad Guilford gude,” &c. 201199 NowThe Rigswestlin o’ Barleywinds, and slaught’ring guns 203204 GreenMy Nannie, grow theO Rashes, a Fragment 207208 AgainThe gloomy rejoicing night Nature is gath’ring sees fast 208209 TheFrom Farewell thee, Eliza, to the I mustBrethren go of St. James’ 210 NoLodge, Churchman Tarbolton am I for to rail and to write 211ib. AuldThe Jolly Lang Beggars, Syne a Cantata 213224 ForBannockburn, a’ that and Bruce’s a’ that Address to his Army 226225 FarewellThe Banks to o’Ayrshire Boon 227ib. OnSic athe Wife Seas as and Willie Far Awayhad 229228 JohnMillie Anderson Brew’d a my Peck Jo o’ Maut 231230 TheI Love Blue-Eyed my Jean Lassie 232ib. CONTENTS. 23 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. jines on an Interview with Lord Daer 233 Powersfo Dr. CelestialBlacklock .... 23<>234 Sketch—New> Year’s Day 237 . toemthe Authorwritten toa Newspaper,a Gentleman and who oiFered had sent to Mdress■ continue to itthe free Toothach of Expense 239238
POEMS, CHIEFLY SCOTTISH.
THE TWA DOGS,
■’TwasThat bears in that the placename o’o’ Scotland’sAuld King isle, Coil, iJponWhen awearing bonny daythrough in June, the afternoon, Twaforgather’d dogs, that ance were upon na a thrang time. at hame, rTheas keepit first I’llfor hisname, Honour’s they ca’d pleasure him Cottar,; His"hew’d hair, he his was size, nane his o’ mouth, Scotland’s his lugs,dogs, Inhereut whalpit sailors some gang place to fish far forabroad. cod. (hew’dHis lockit, him the letter’d, gentleman braw andbrass scholar; collar, Thelut thoughfient a pride,he was nae o’ highpride degree,had he ; Sutr wad hae spent an hour caressin Kti’ kirk ony ortinkler market, gypsey’s mill or messin: smiddie, *iae^ut hetawted wad tyke,stan’t, though as glad e’er to seesae him,duddie, ‘indThe stroan’t tither wason stanes a ploughman’s and hillocks collie, wi’ him. ti’ha rhyming, for his ranting,friend and roving comrade-had billie, him, id ia his freaks had LuatUB ca’d him. t 26 burns’ poems. WasAfter madesome langsyne—Glidedog in Highland kenssang, howlang. * AsHe ever was lap a agash sheugh and orfaithfu’ dyke ;tyke, AyeHis honest,gat him sonsie, friends baws’nt in ilka face,place. WeelHis breast clad wi’was coatwhite, o’ glossyhis tousie black; back HungHis gawcie o’er histail, hurdies wi’ upward wi’ a swirl.curl, AndNae unco doubt pack but and they thick were thegither fain o’ ither,; WhilesWi’ social mice nose and whyles moudieworts snuff’d theyand snowkit;howkit; AndWhiles worried scour’d ither awa in in diversion lang excursion, ; UponUntil wi’a knowe daffin they weary sat grown, them down. AboutAnd there the beganlords o' a thelang creation. digression. C.tCSAlt. WhatI’ve aften sort wonder’d,o’ life poor honest dogs likeLuath, you have 2 AndWhat when way thepoor gentry’s bodies liv’dlite I ava.saw, K isOur coals, Laird his getskain, in and his a’racket his stents rents, : HisHe risesflunkies when answer he likes at thehimsel; bell: He drawsca’s his a coachbonny : silkenhe ca’s purse, his horse; AsThe lang’s yellow-letter’d my tail, whare, Geordie through kecks. the steek*. AtFrae baking, mom roasting, to e’en it’sfrying, nought boiling but ;toiling. AndYet e’enthough the theha’ gentryfock fill first their are pechan stechin, • Cuchullin’s dog in Ossian's Fingal. burns’ poem*. 27 'I Wi’That’s sauce, little ragouts, short o’ anddownright siclike wastrie.trash trie, ji OurPoor whipper-in,worthless elf, wee it blastiteats a dinnerwonner, ' HisBetter Honour than onyhas tenantin a’ the man lan’: | IAnd own what it’s pastpoor mycot-folk comprehension. pit their painch in, LUATH. ,,} Trowth,A cottar howkinCffisar, whilesin a sheugh, they’re fash’t eneugh ; [i Wi’Baring dirty a quarry,stanes biggin and siclike; a dyke, g. AHimsel’ smytrie a wife,o’ wee he duddie thus sustains, weans, l* AndThem nought right andbut tighthis han’ in thackdarg, andto keep rape. i.i LikeAnd loss when o’ health they meetor want wi’ o’sair masters. disasters, : AndYe maist they wadmaun think, starve a o’wee cauld touch and langer, hunger; j.i ButThey’re how maistlyit comes, wonderfu’ I never kendcontented; yet, ;| AndAre bredbuirdly in sicchiels, a way and as cleverthis is. hizzies, C.ESAR. ’ ButHow then, huff’d, to seeand how cuff’d, ye're and negleckit, disrespeckit» j1 "j L—dFor delvers, man ! ditchers,our gentry and care sic saecattle little ; j t ,TheyAs I wadgang by as asaucy stinking by poorbrock. fock, AndI’ve mony notic’d, a time on ourmy heart’sLaird’s beencourt-day. wae, PoorHow tenantthey maun bodies, thole scant a factor’s o’ cash. snash ; ‘ He’ll apprehendstamp and threaten,them, poind curse their and gear; swear. i $8 burns’ poems. AndWhile hear they it mauna’, and stan’, fear wi*and aspecttremble humble. ButI see surely how folk poor live folk that maun hae beriches wretche*. ; LUATH. ThoughThey’re naeconstantly sae wretched’s on poortith’a ane wad brink, think ; TheThey’re view sae o’t accustom’d gies them littlewi’ the fright. sight, They’reThen chanceaye in lessand orfortune mair areprovided sae guided, ; AndA blink though o’ rest’s fatigued a sweet wi’ enjoyment.close employment, TheirThe grushiedearest weanscomforts and o’ faithfu’ their lives, wives; ThatThe prattling sweetens thingsa’ their are fire-side. just their pride, CanAnd mak whyles the bodies twalpenny unco happyworth o’; nappy TheyTo mind lay theaside Kirk their and private State cares,affairs : They’llWi’ kindling talk o’ fury patronage in their and breasts priests, ; AndOr tell ferlie what at new the folktaxation’s in Lon'on. comin. TheyAs bleak-fac’dget the jovial, Hallowmas rantin kirns. return*. UniteWhen inrural common life, o’recreation every station, ; LoveForgets blinks, there’s Wit Care slaps, upo’ and the socialearth. Mini* TheyThat bar merry the doorday theon frostyyear begins. wins ; AndThe nappysheds areeks heart-inspiring wt’ mantling steam ream. ; AreThe handedlunting roundpipe, andwi’ rightsneeshing gude-will; mill. The cantyyoung auld anes folks rantin cracking through crouse. the honee —< burns’ poems. *9 MThat y heart I for has joy been hae barkitsae fain wi’ to thern.see them. SicStill game it’s is owre now trueowre that aften ye play’d. hae said. O’There’s decent, mony honest-fassont a creditable fock, stock AreSome riven rascal’s out pridefu’baith root greed and tobranch. quench, WhaIn favour thinks wi’ to some knit gentlehimsel Master, the faster, jjWha,Tor Britain’s aiblins, gudethrang his a-parliamcntin. saul indentin.— CiESAB. ’Haith,For Britain'x lad, ye glidelittle ken! gude about faith, it; I doubt it! iSayAnd rather; sayiny gaun,ay or asno's Premiers they bid lead him him,: AtMortgaging, operas and gambling, plays parading, masquerading; 'OrTo Haguemaybe, orin Calaisa frolic taks daft, a waft, To learnmak abon tour, ton, and and tak see a whirl.the warl.’ lieThere, rives hisat father’sVienna orauld Versailles, entaiLs; OrTo bythrum Madrid guitars he andtakes fecht the rout,wi’ nowt; M^h-re-huntingDr down Italian amangvista startles, groves o’ myrtles; j' ThenJo mak b useshimsel drumly look fairGerman and fatter,water, findLove-gifts clear theof Carnivalconsequential signoras. sorrows, (tVTFor Britain'sdissipation, gude feud, ! forand her faction. destruction t I.UATH. [TheyBachman! waste saedear monie sirs ! ais braw that estatethe gate ? 30 burns’ poems. AreFor gearwe sae to foughtengang that anil gate harass’d at last ? AndO wadplease they themsels stay aback wi’ country frae courts. sports, ItThe wad Laird, for every the Tenant, ane be better,and the Cottar ! ForFient time haet frank, o’ them’s rantin, ill-hearted rambl’n fellows,billies, JSxceptOr speakin for breakinlightly o’o’er their their limmer, timmer, TheOr WBootin ne’er ao’ bit a harethey’re or illmoor-cock, to poor fock. SureBut great will folk’sye tell life’s me, aMaster life o’ Cictar,pleasure ! TheNae verycauld thought nor hunger o’t needna e’er can fear steer them. them, CAESAR. The1/—d, gentles man ! yewere wad ye ne’er but envywhiles ’em. whare I am, Thro’It’s winter’strue, they cauld, needna or simmer’sstarve or sweat,heat; AndThey’ve fill auldnae sairage warkwi’ grips to craze and theirgranes: banes, ForBut a’human their collegesbodies are and sic schools, fools, ThatThey whenmak enownae real themselves ills perplex to vex them, them ; InAnd like aye proportion the less they less haewill tohurt sturt them them, : HisA country acres till’d, fellow he’s at theright pleugh, eneugh ; HerA country dizzens lassie done, at she’s her wheel,unco weel; Wi’But ev’ndownGentlemen, want and o’ Ladies wark arewarst, curst. ThoughThey loiter, diel lounging,haet ails them, lank andyet lazyuneasy} ; Their daysnights insipid, unquiet, dull, lang, and and tasteless restless; ; burns' poems. 31 . And ev’n their sports, their balls, and races, 1 ! 'There’sTheir gallopping sic parade, through sic pomp public and places;art, • The joymen can cast scarcely out in partyreach matches,the heart. AeThen night souther they’re a’ inmad deep wi’ debauches: drink and wh-ring, , NiestThe ladies day their arm-in-arm, life is past in enduring.clusters, ■.As’But great hear andtheir gracious absent thoughua’ as sisters; o’ ither. : They’re a’ run deils and jades thegither. 1 Whyles,They sip owrethe scandal the wee potion bit cup pretty and plaitie,; OrPore lee-lang owre the nights, deevil’s wi’ picture-beuks;crabbit leuks, , ! AndStake cheat on a likechance onie a unhang’dfarmer’s stack-yard, blackguard. ButThere’s this is someGentry’s exception, life in mancommon. and woman ; AndBy darker this, the gloamin sun was brought out o’ thesight, night; ■1 The bum-clockkye stood rowtin humm’d i’ the wi’ loanlazy ; drone, 1 [j Jtejoic’dWhen up they they were gat andna men shook but their dogs; lugs, AndResolv’d each to took meet aff some his several ither day. way, 3? SCOTCH DRINK.
O thou, my Mute! gude auld Scotch Drink ! WhetherOr, richly thro’ brown, wimpling-worms ream owre the thoubrink, jink. Inspire me, till I lisp and wink,
Perfume the plain, Lee*e me on thee,Thou John king Barleycorn, o’ grain ! InOn souplethee aft scones, Scotland the chowswale o’ her food cood, ! Or tumblin in theWi’ boiling kail andflood beef; But when thou poursThere thy thou strong shines heart’s chief. blood, burns’ poems. 35 FoodTho’ life’sAlls the a giftwame, no worthand keeps receivin, us Hvin} When heavy dragg’dBut, wi’oil’d pine by thee.and grievin ; The wheels o’ lifeWi’ gae rattlin down glee.hill, scrievin, Thou cheersclears thethe headheart o’ o’ doiteddrooping Lear Care $ ; Thou strings the At’snerves weary o’ Labour toil; sair, Thou ev’n brightensWi’ darkgloomy Despair smile. Aft,Wi’ Oentlesclad in massythou erects siller thyweed, head; Yet humbly kind,The in timepoor o’man’s need, wine ; His wee drap parritch,Thou kitchensor his bread. fine. ButThou thee, art thewhat life were o’ public our fairs haunts and ;rants ? Ev’n godly meetingsBy thee o’ the inspir’d, saunts, ; When gaping thevAre besiege doubly the fir’d. tents, OThat sweetly merry then night thou we reams get the the corn horn in, in ! Or reekin on a New-yearIn cog or mornin bicker, And just a wee drapAnd sp’ritualgusty sucker! burn in, AndWhen ploughmen Vulcan gies gather his bellows wi’ their breath, graith, O rare! to see theeI’ the fizz luggit and freath caup f 34. burns’ poems. Then liurnevin At* comes every on chaup. like death "NaeThe mercy,brawnie, then, bainie, for ploughmanaim or steel: chiel, _ Urings hard owrehip,The strongwi’ sturdy forehammer. wheel. Till block and studieWi’ dinsomering and clamour.reel, WhenThou maksskirlin the weantes gossips see clatter the light. bright. How fumblin cuifsM'ae their worth dearies the nameslight; ! Hae howdie gets Ora social plack night, frae them. AndWhen just neebours as wud angeras wud at cana plea, be, How easy can theCement barlcy-bree the quarrel! It’s aye the cheapestTo taste lawyer’s the barrel.fee, AlakeTo wyte ! thatour countrymene’er my Muse wi’ has treason reason ! Hut monie daily Wi’weet liquorstheir weason nice, And hardly, in aE’er winter’s spier season. her price. FellWae sourceworth o’that monie Brandy, a pain burnln and brash trash ! ! Twins monie a poorO’ haufdoylt his drucken days ; hash And sends, beside,To auld her warstScotland’s faos. cash propriate* pumewin—the-wind—the title. Blacksmith—»n ap- burns’ poems. 3i ' YeVc Scot’s,chief, to wha you wish my taleauld IScotland tell, well! Poor plackless deevils,It sets likeyou mysel!ill, Wi’ bitter, dearthfu’Or foreign wines gill.to mell, MayAnd goutsgravels torment round hishim blather inch by wrench. inch, Wha twists his gruntleO’ sour wi’ disdain, a glunch D Out-owrc a glassWi’ o’ whisky honest punch,men. AcceptO Whisky a Bardie’s ! soul humbleo’ plays thanksand pranks! ! When wanting thee,Are mywhat poor tuneless verses cranks ! ■ Thou comes Atthey ither’s rattle a i’ theirs! ranks Scotland,Thee, Ferintosh, lament frae! O coastsadly tolost! coast! Now colic grips, Mayand barkingkill us a’;hoast. ; For loyal Forbes’Is charter’d ta’en awa! boast ’. ThaeWha makcurst thehorse-leeches Whisky stells o’ th’ their Excise, prize ! Haud up thy han’,There, Deil! seize ance, the twice,blinkers; thrice! And bake them upFor in poor brunstane d—n’d pies.drinkers. Fortune ! if thou’ll but gie me still AndHale routhbreeks, o’ arhyme scone, to and rave Whisky at will, gill, 1 Tak a’ the rest, And deai’t aboutDirects as thy blindthee best. skill 36 burns’ poems.
EARNEST CRY AND PRAYER* IS IN THE HOUSE
WhaYe Scottish represent Lords, our brughsye Knights and shires.and Squires, And doucely manageIn Parliament, our affairs To you a simple ArePoet’s humbly prayers sent. burns' poems. 37 StandThe honest, forth, andopen, tell naked yon Premiertruth ; Youth, Tell him o’ mine Hisand servantsScotland’s humble; drouth, The muckle deevilIf yeblaw dissemble! ye south, SpeakHoes ony out, great and mannever glunch fash your and thum:gloom ! Let posts and pensionsWi’ them sink, who or soomgrant ’em : If honestly they Farcanna better come, want ’em. In gath’rin votes you were na slack ; Ne’erNow stand claw asyour tightly ’ by 1your tack; back, But raise your arm,Before and them tell youra’. crack HerPaint mutchkin-stoup Scotland greeting as loom’sowre her a whissel;thrissel. And damn’d Excisemen,Seizin a stell,in a bussel, Triumphant, crush’ntOr lampit like ashell. mussel AThen, blackguard on the titherSmuggler hand, right present behint her; her, And cheek-for-chow,Colleaguing a chuffie join, Vintner, Picking her pouchOf as a’ barekind as coin. winter ButIs there, feels thathis heart’sbears the blude name rising o’ Scot, hot, To see his poor auldThus Mither’s dung in pot staves. And plunder’d Byo’ her gallows hindmost knaves groat ? IS burns’ poems. AlasTrod ! i’I'm the butmire a cleannameless out- o’wight, sight! But could I like OrMontgom'rie gab like Boswell, fight. There’s some sark-necksAnd tie someI wad hose draw well. tight. TheGod blesskind, yourauld, honours! cantie Carlin can yegreet, see’t. And no get warmlyAnd to gar your them feet, hear it, And tell them, wi’He a winna patriot bear heat, it ? SomeTo round o’ you the nicely period ken and the pause, laws, And wi’ rhetoric Toclause mak on harangues; clause Then echo thro’ AuldSt. Stephen’s Scotland’s wa’s wrangs. Dempster,Thee, aith-detesting, a true-blue chaste Scot I’seKilkerran warran ;•; And that glib-gabbetThe LairdHighland o’ Graham Baron, ,•■}■ And ane, a chap Dundasthat’s d—n’d his name auldfarran, TrueErskine, Campbells, a spunkie Frederick, Norland billie;and Hay ; And Livingstone,And the monie bauld ithers,Sir Willie; Wham auld DemosthenesBlight own or for Tully brithers. Arouse,To get auld my boys!Scotland exert back your her mettle. kettle ; f• TheSir Adam present Ferguson, Duke of Montrose. burns’ poems. *9 Or faith, I’ll wadYou’ll my new see’t pkugh-pettle. or lang, She’ll teach you, Anitherwi’ a reekin sang. whittle, \ HerThis lostwhile Militia she’s beenfir’d herin crankous blude ; mood, j (Deil na they neverPlay’d mair her do thatgude. pliskie !) t And now she’s likeAbout to rin her red-wud Whisky. * AndHer tartanL—d, petticoatif ance they she’ll pit kilt, her till’t, ‘ And durk and pistolShe’ll at takher thebelt, streets, j And rin her whittleI’ the to thefirst hilt she meets! . AndFor Godsake, straik her Sirs cannie ! then wi’ speakthe hair. her fair, And to the mucklewi’ houseinstant repair, speed, i And strive, wi’ a’To your get witremead. and lear, i YonMay ill-tongu’dtaunt you wi’tinkler, his jeers Charlie and mocks;Fox, “ But gie him’t het,E’en my cowehearty the cocks caddie. ! And send him toAnd his dicing-boxsportin lady. I’llTell be yon his gude debt bhidc twa mashlum o’ auld Boconnock’t. bannocks. And drink his healthNine intimes auld a-week, Nanse Tmnoek's* : ♦ A worthy old Hostess of the Author’s in Mauchline. gudewhere auld he Scotchsometimes Drink. studied Politics over a ghws « 40 burns’ poems. If he some scheme,Wad like kindly tea and seek. winnock*, I’llCould pledge he some my aithcommutation in gude braid broach, Scotch, He needna fear theirNor foulerudition, reproach, Yon mixtie-maxtie,The queer Coalition. hotch-potch. AuldShe’s justScotland a deevil has wi’a raucle a rung tongue; ; And if she promiseTo auldtak theiror young. part, Tho’ by the neckShe’ll she should no desert. be strung, AndMay nowstill yourye chosen Mither’s Five-and-Forty, heart support ye; Then, though a ministerAnd kick grow your dorty, place, Ye’ll snap your fingers,Before hispoor face. and hearty, GodWi’ blesssoups your o’ kail Honour’s and brats a’ o’your claise. days, In spite o’ a’ theThat thievish haunt kaes St. Jamie'11 Your humble PoetWhile sings Rab and his prays. name is. POSTSCRIPT. SeeLet future hauf-starv’d wines rich slaves, clust’ring in warmer rise; skies, Their lot auld ScotlandBlythe andne’er frisky, envies, She eyes her free-born,Tak aff martial their Whisky. boys, burns’ poems. 41 'W'hatWhile thoughfragrance their blooms, Phoebus and kinder beauty warms, charm*! When wretches rangeThe scented in famish’d groves. swarm* Or hounded forth,In dishonourhungry droves. arms TheirThey downagun’s abide burden the stinkon their o’ powther;shouther; Their bauldest thought’sTo stan’ aor hank’ring rin, swithet Till skelp—a shot—they’reTo save their aff, skin. a’ throwther, ClapBut bring in his a cheek Scotsman a Highland frae his gill, hill, Sap, sic is royal AndGeorge's there’s will, the foe; He has nae thoughtTwa but at howa blow. to kill NaeDeath cauld comes faint-hearted !—wi’ fearless doublings ee he seestease him; him; Wi’ bluidy hand Anda welcome when hegies fa’s, him; His latest draughtIn o’ faint breathin’ huzzas. lea’es him SagesAnd raise their a solemn philosophic een may reek, steek, And physically causesIn clime seek, and season ; But tell me Whisky'sI’ll tell name the reason.in Greek, Scotland,Tho’ whyles my ye auld moistify respected your Mither leather. ! Till whare ye sit,Ye on tine craps your o’ heather,dam; freedom and WhiskyTak aff gang your thegither, dram! 42 burns’ poems. THE HOLY FAIR* A robe of seeming truth and trust And^secreUiung,Hid crafty Observation, with poinson'd crust. Hypocrisy a-la-Mode. Up ok a simmer Sunday morn, I walkedWhen Nature’sforth to view face theis fair, corn. TheAnd rising snuff sun the o’er cauler Gahton air: muirs, TheWi’ hares glorious were lighthirpling was down glintin; the furs, The lav’rocks IVthey sweetwere thatchantin day. As lightsomely I glowr’d abroad. ThreeTo seeHiizies, a scene early so gay, at the road. T waCam had skelpin manteeles up the o’ dolefu’way ; black. TheBut third, ane wi’that lyart gaed lining a-wee ; a-back, Was in the fashioniV gay shining, that day. TheIn twafeature, appear’d form, like and sisters claes; twin, TheirAnd visage, sour as wither’d ony slaes lang s and thin laud* Holyfor a FairSacramental is a common occasion. phrase in the West of Scot, burns' poems. 45 Tlie third cam up, hap-stap-and-loup, ‘AndAs wi’ light a kurtchieas ony lambie, low did stoop. As soon as e’er sheFu’ saw kind me, that day. Wi’ bannet aff, quoth I, “ Sweet lass, I’mI thinksure I’ve ye seem seen tothat kenr bonny me; face, i Quo’But she, yet andI cannie laughin name as ye.”she spak, “ Ye,And for taks my me sak, by haethe gi’enhands, the feck Of a’ the ten commandsA screed some day. “ My name is Fun—your cronie dear, AndThe this nearest is Superstition friend ye haehere, ; I’mAnd gaun that’s to ••••***•* Hypocrisy. Holy Fair, GinTo ye’ll spend gae an there, hour yon in daffinrunkl’d : pair,**■ We will get famousAt themlaughin this day.” ' ' Quoth I, “ Wi’ a’ my heart, I’ll do’t; AndI’ll meet get myyou Sunday’s on the haly sark Spot; on, ThenFaith, I gaed we’se hame hae fineat crowdie-time, rcmarkin !” ForAnd roads soon were I made clad, mefrae ready; side to side, Wi’ mony a wearyIn body,droves that day. GaedHere farmershoddin bygash, their in cottars;ridin graith, There,Are springinswankies o’er young, the gutters.in braw braid claith, burns’ poems. The lasses, skelpin barefoot, thrang, Wi’In sweet-milksilks and scarlets cheese, glitter; in mony a whangs And far Is bak’d IVwi’ butter,crump that day. When by the plate we set our nose, A Weelgreedy heaped glow’r up Black wi’ ha’pence,Bonnet throws. ThenAnd in we we maun go to draw see the our show, tippence. SomeOn carryingevery side dales, they’re some gatherin, chairs and stools. And some are busyRight blethrin loud that day. Here stands a shed to fend the show’rs. ThereAnd racerscreen Jess our andcountra twa threeGentry, wh-res, HereAre gits blinkin a raw at of the tittlin entry. jades, AndWi’ there heaving a batch breast o’ wabsterand bare lads, neck. Biackguardin fraeVox K fun thisck. day. Here some are thinking on their sins. AneAnd curses some feet upo’ that their fyl’d claes; his shins, OnAnither this hand sighs sits and a chosen prays: swatch, •OnWI* that, screw’d a set o’up chaps, grace-proud at watch, faces; Thrang winkin onTo the chairs lasses that day. O happyNae wonder is that that man it andpride blest! him ! Wha’sComes ain clinkin dear lass, down that beside he likes him. beet, burns’ poems. 4*- Wi’ arm repos'd on the chair hack, Which,He sweetly by degrees, does compose slips round him. her neck, And’s loot’ upon Unkendher bosom, that day. Now a' the congregation o'er ForIs M***iesilent expectation; speels the holy door, ShouldWi’ tidingsIlurnie, o’ asd-mn-t—n. in ancient days, The'Mang rery sonssight o’ o’ G— M***ie’s present face, him, To’s ain het hameWi’ had fright sent thathim day. Hear bow he clears the points o’ faith, NowWi’ meekly rattiin calm,and wi’ now thumpin wild in ! wrath, HisHe’s lengthen’d stampin, chin, and hishe’s turn’d jumpin up ! snout, OhHis ! how eldritch they squeelfire the and heart gestures, devout. Like cantharidianOn plaisters, sic a day. But hark ! the tent has chang’d its voice ; ForThere’s a’ the peacereal judges and rest rise. nae ianger ; S**thThey opens canna out sit his for cauld anger. harangue* AndOn aff practice the godly and pour-inon moraW"; thrangs, To gie the- jars andA liftbarrels that day. WhetO’ moral signifies powers his barren and reason shine ? HisArs English a’ clean style, out ando’ season. gestures fine, 46 BURNS’ POEMS. Like Socrates or Antonine, TheOr moral some manauld hePagan does heathen,define. But ne’er a wordThat’s o’ faith right in that d*f. In gude time comes an antidote ForAgainst P**bles, sic fraepoison’d the water-fit, nostrum ; See,Ascends up he’s the got holy the rostrumword o’ :G—, WhileAnd Common-Sensemeek and mim has ta’enview’d the it, road, And aff, and up Fast,the Cowgate*, fast, that day. Wee M****r, neist, the guard relieves, ThoughAnd Orthodoxy in his heart raibles, he weel believes, ButAnd faith thinks ! the it birkie auld wives’wants afables manse, : AlthoughSo cannily his hecarnal hums wit them and ; sense Like hafflins-waysAt o’ercomes times that him, day. Now butt and ben the change-house fills Here’sWi’ cryingyill-caup out commentators: for bakes and gills. WhileAnd thickthere andthe pint-stoupthrang, and clatters loud and ;• lang, TheyWi’ raise Logic a din,and thatwi’ Scripture,in the end Is like to breed aO’ rupture wrath that day. LeezeThan me either on Drink School ! itor gies College, us mair * A street so called, which faces the tent in S—. burns’ poems. 4.7 It kindles Wit, it waukens Lear, Be’tIt pangswhisky us gill, fu’ oro’ pennyKnowledge: wheep, It Ornever ony fails, stronger on drinking potion, deep, To kittle up our Bynotion, night or day. The lads and lasses, blythely bent SitTo round mind the baith table, saul weel and content, body. OnAnd-steer this ane’s about dress, the and toddy. that ane’s leuk, WhileThey’re some making are cozie observations; i’ the neuk, And forming assignations,To meet some day. But now the L—d’s ain trumpet touts. AndTill echoes a’ the back hills return are rairin, the shouts: HisBlack piercing R****l words, is na like sparin; Highland swords. HisDivide talk ofthe hell, joints whare and deevilsmarrow; dwell, Our very sauls doesWi’ harrow fright that! * day. A vast, unbottom’d, boundless pit. WhaseFill’d ragin fu’ o’ flame, lowin and brunstane, scorchin heat. TheWad hauf melt asleep the starthardest up whun-stanswi’ fear, t When,And thinkpresently they it hear does it appear, roarin, ’Twas but some neighbourAsleep that snoria day. Shakspeare’s Hamlet. 48 burns’ poems. ’Twad be owre lang a tale, to tell AndHow how monie they storiescrowded past, to the yill,, HowWhen drink they gaed were round, a’ dismist; in cogs and caup*, AndAmang cheese the and furms bread, and frae benches, women’s laps, Was dealt about Andin lunches, dauds, that day. In comes a gaucie, gash gudewife. SyneAnd draws sits downher kebbuck by the tire,and her knife ; TheThe auld lasses gudemen, they are about shyer. the grac*, TillFrae some side ane to byside his they bannet bother, lays, And gies them’t Fu’like langa tether, that day. Waesuck’s for him that get’s nae lass ! Sma’Or lassesneed has that he hae to saynaething a grace, ! O Orwives melvie ! be hismindfu’, braw claithing.ance yoursei, AndHow dinna, bonnie for ladsa kebbuck-heel, ye wanted, Let lasses be affrontedOn sic a day. Now Clinkumbell, wi’ rattlin tow, SomeBegins swagger to jow hame and thecroon; best they dow AtSome slaps waitthe billiesthe afternoon. halt a blink, Wi’Till faith lasses and strip hope, their and shoon love and; drink. They’re a’ in famousFor crack tune that day. burns’ poems. *9 How monie hearts this day converts, TheirO’ sinnershearts o’and stane, o’ lasses gin night! are gane There’sAs saft some as ony are fleshfou o’ is. love divine; AndThere’s mony some jobs thatare fou day o’ begin, brandy ; May end in houghmagandieSome ither day. i DEATH AND DR. HORNBOOK. A TRUE STORY. SomeAnd some books great are lieslies werefrae endnever to penn’dend. ; Ev’n ministers, theyIn hae holy been rapture, ken’d, , A rousing whid, at Andtimes, nail’t to vend, wi’ Scripture. ; 1 ButWhich this lately that Ion am a nightgaun tobefel. tell, Is just as true’s theOr Deil’s Dublin in hell, city i That e’er he nearer’S comes a muckle oursel pity. Theil was Clachan na fou, yillbut hadjust madehad plenty me canty, ; il stacher’d whyles, Tobut free yet thetook ditches tent ay, ; And hillocks, stanes,h'rae and ghaists bushes, and ken’d witches. ay The distantrising moon Cumnock began hills to glowr out owre; 50 burns’ poems. To count her horns,I wi’set mysel;a’ my pow’r, But whether she hadI cou'dnathree or tell. four, AndI was todlin come downround on about Willie's the hill, mill, Setting my staff, wi’To a’ keep my skill,me sicker; . Though leeward whyles,I took againsta bicker.. my will, IThat there put wi’ me something in an eerie did swither forgather, ; An awfu’ scythe, out-owreClear-dangling, ae shouther, hang; A three-taed leisterLay, on the large ither and lang. TheIts stature queerest seem'd shape lang that Scotch e’er 1 ellssaw, twa, l or Sent a wame itAnd had thenava ! its shanks, They were as thin, Asas sharp,cheeks ando’ branks sma, ! “ Gude-een,” quo’ I; “ Friend! hae ye been;; When ithermaVin, fock are busy sawin ?”* It seem’d to mak a Butkind naething o’ staun. spak ; S At length, says I, “Will Friend ye gae! whare back ye?” gaun ? > ButIt spak be naright Hey’d”—Quoth bowe:—“ My I, name “ Gude is Death-*! faith ! t Ye’re maybe come Butto stap tent my me, breath billie; ; ' . ^ * This rencounter happened in seed-time, 17*1*. i burns’ poems. «I red ye weel, tak care o’ scaith,i’s a gully !” H “ Gudeman,” quo’ he, “ put up your whittle, ,I’mBut noif Idesign’d did, I wad to try be itskittle mettle; I wadna mind it, onTo that be mislear’dspittle 52 burns’ poems. The weans baud outAnd their pouk fingers, my hips.laughin. “They See, haehere’s pierc’d a scythe, mony and a gallant there’s heart; a dart. But Doctor Hornbook,And wi’cursed his artskill, Has made them baithDamn’d no worth haet a they’ll f—t, kill. “1 threw'Twas abut noble yestreen, dart at nae ane farther ; gane, Wi’ less, I’m sure,But I’ve dcil-ma-care, hundreds slain ; It just play’d dirl onBut the did banc, nae mair. And“ Hornbook had sae wasfortified by, wi’the readypart, art, That when I lookedIt towas my sae dart, blunt, Kent haet o’t wad haeO’ apierc’d kail-runt. the heart I“ near-handI drew my cowpitscythe wi’in sicmy a hurry, fury, But yet the bauld ApothecaryWithstood the shock ; 1 might as weel haeO’ tried hard a whin-rock.quarry Although“ Ev’n them their he face canna he getne’er attended, had ken'd it. Just in a kail-blade,As soon’s and he send smell’st, it; Baith their disease,At and ance what he willtells’u mend it. •*Of And a’ dimensions, then o’ doctor’s shapes, saws and and mettles. whittle*. burns’ poems. 53 ft.’ kinds o' boxes, mugs,He’s sure and to bottles, hae: r Latin names Asas fastA, B,he C.rattles rueCalces sal-marinum o’ fossils, earth,o’ the andseas trees;; ’he farina o’ beansHe and has’t pease, in plenty; ■qua-fontis, what youHe canplease, content ye. ^Forbye soi ise newo’ capons uncommon ; weapons, mite-hor: shavings,Distill’d filings, per scrapingsse; M al-alkali o’ midge-tailAnd clippings.mony mae.” ;uoth.. „„„ I, “ forIf thatJohnny the newsGed's he Hole true *! now.” lis braw calf-ward,£ae whare white gowans and bonny, grew fae doubt they’ll riveThey’ll it wi’ ruin the Johnnyplow ; /” thdhe creaturesays, “ Yegraned needna an eldritchyoke the laugh, pleugh, irk yards will soonTak be yetill’d nae eneugh, fear ; ^bey’ll a’ be trench’dIn twa-three wi’ mony year.a sheugh iy’ Whare loss o’ Iblude, kill’d orane want a fair o’ straebreath, death, 'his night I’m freeThat to tak Hurnbook'i my aith, skill tas clad a score in Bytheir drap last and claith, pill. * The gravEwtiggei. 54 burns’ poems. Whase“ An honest wife’s Wabster twa nieves to hiswere trade, scarce wecl-bred,
And pour your creeshie nations ; 1 | AndOf ye a’ whadenominations leather rax ; and draw, 'i SwithAnd to there the Laightak up Kirk,your stationsane and ; a’, burns’ poems. Then aff to Begbie's in a raw. And pour divine libations*For joy this day. Curst Common-Sense, that imp o’ hell. ButCam Oliphant in wi’ Maggieaft made Lauder,* her yell. ThisAnd day Russel M‘Kinlay sair misca’d taks the her flail. ; . He’llAnd clap he’s a theshangan boy will on herblaud tail, her, And set the bairns Wi’to daub dirt herthis day. Mak haste and turn King David owre. O’And double lift versewi’ holy come clangor; gie us four, ThisAnd day skirl the up Kirk the kicks Bangor up :a stoure, ForNae Heresy mair isthe in knaves her ppw’r, shall wrang her, And gloriously she’llWi’ whang pith thisher day. Come, let a proper text be read, HowAnd graceless touch it Ham aff wi’ -J- leughvigour, at his dad, OrWhich PhineasX made drove Canaan the murderinga Niger; blade, OrWi’ 7Apporah\\, wh-re-abhorring the scaulding rigour; jade, Was like a bluidy tigerI’ the inn that day. There,And trybind mettle him downon the wi’ creed. caution, admission» Alluding of theto a late scoffing Reverend Ballad and which worthy was M r.made L onto Laigh Kirk. t Genesis, ch. ix. ver. 22. Ii Exodus,Numbers, ch. ch. iv. xxv. ver. ver.23. 8. burns’ poems. 63 That stipend is a carnal weed AndHe gie taks him but o’er for thethe flockfashion to feed,; EspecialAnd punish rams thateach crosstransgression the breed, ; (lie them sufficientSpare threshin, them nae day. Now auld Kilmarnock cock thy tail, NaeAnd mair toss thou’lt thy horns rout fu’out-owre canty ;the dale, ForBecause lapfu’s thylarge pasture’s o’ gospel scanty; kail AndShall runts fill o’thy grace crib thein plenty, pick and wale, No gien by way Buto’ dainty. ilka day. Nae mair by Babel's streams we’ll weep. AndTo hing think our upon fiddles our upZion to ;sleep. Come,Like screwbaby-clouts the pegs a-drying: wi’ tunefu’ cheep, Oh,And rare o’er ! to the see thairms our elbucks be trying wheep. ; And a’ like lamb-tailsFu’ fast flyin this day ! Lang Patronage, wi’ rod o’ airn. AsHas lately shor’d Fenmck, the Kirk’s sair forfaim,undoin. OurHas Patron, proven honest to its manruin :! Glencairn, AndHe like saw amischief godly elect was bairn.brewin ; He’s wal’d us outAnd a true sound ane, this day. NowBut Robinson steek your harangue gab for naeever mair, ; 6* burns’ poems. Or try the wicked town o’ Ayr, Or,For nae there reflection they’ll on think your you lear. clever ; OrYou to the may Nethcrton commence repair, a Shaver; And turn a carpet-weaverAfF-hand this day. Mutrie and you were just a match, AuldWe Hornie never had did sicthe twa Laigh drones; Kirk watch, AndJust ay likehe catch’da winkin the baudrons: tither wretch, ButTo now fry histhem Honour in his mauncaudrons detach, ; Wi’ a’ his brimstoneFast, squadrons,fast this day. See, see, auld Orthodoxy’s faes, Hark,She’s how swingein the nine-tail’d through thecat city,she plays ! ThereI vow Learning, its unco wi’pretty his ; Greekish face, AndGrunts Common-Sense out some Latin is gaun, ditty she ; says, To mak to JamieHer Beattie ’plaint this day. But there’s Morality himsel’ Hear,Embracing how he a’gies opinions; the tither yell, See,Between how she his peels twa thecompanions skin, and ; fell, NowAs there—they’reane were peelin packed onions: aff to hell. And banish’d ourHenceforth dominions, this day. O Comehappy bouseday ! aboutrejoice, the rejoice porter ! ! burns’ poems. 65 Morality’s demv M'-Kinlay,Shall here Rus na( irea the quarter:boys They’ll gie her on a rape a hoyse, And cow her measureBy th’ shorter head somf for aither conclusion, mutchki ■' ToFrom ev’ry this New ti Light*' ’ mother’s ! init athem spunk, aff andin fusion ev’ry s
ForGod insta k kndAs should bless you some wi’ patron a kirk, be so kind. doubtYe’re na, but then we’ll findk! 66 burns’ poems. ForbidYou e’erit, every should heavenly be a Slot! Power, Tho\Your when but-and-ben some kind, adorns. connubial dear, TheA likenoble has head been, o’ hormthat you ! may wear AndTo in hear your you lug, roar most and reverend rowte. Jamet, FewTo men rank o’ amang sense willthe Nowtedoubt your! claims AndBelow when a ye’regrassy number’d hillock, wi’ the dead. Wi’“ Herejustice lies they a famous may mark Bullock your head-— ADDRESS TO THE DEIL. O Prince ! O Chief of many throned Pow’rs, That led the embattled Seraphim to war Milton. AuldO thou, Hornie, whatever Satan, title Nick, suit or thee, Clootie, Wha in yon cavernClos’d grim andunder sootie, hatches, Spairges about the Tobrunstane scaud poor cootie, wretches! AndHear letme, poor auld damned Hangie, bodies for abe; wee, I’m sure sma pleasureE’en it tocan a deil.gie. To skelp and scaudAnd poor hear dogs us like squeel! me. FarGreat kend is thy and pow’r, noted andis thy great name thy ; fame, burns' poems. 67 [" And tho’ yon IowanThou heugh’s travels thy farhame. ; I And faith, thou’s neitherNor blate lag nornor scaur.lame, i, MTiyles, rangin like a roarin lion, |8 ForWhyles, prey, ona’ theholes strong-wing’d and corners tryin;tempest flyin, I Titling the kirks; I Whyles, in the humanUnseen bosom, thou pryin. lurks. W I’veIn lanely heard glens my rev’rend ye like toGramme stray ; say, Or whare auld-ruin’dNod castles, to the gray.moon,
‘. WhenTo say twilighther pray’rs, did mydouce, Grannie honest summon woman, i Aft yont the dyke she’sWi’ eerieheard drone! you bummin, Or, rustlin, thro’ theWi’ boortries heavy groancomin, ! AeThe dreary, stars shot windy, down winter wi’ sklentin night, light, Wi’ you, mysel, I Ayontgat a fright, the loch ; Ye, like a rash-bush,Wi’ stood waving in sight, sugh. ?; EachThe cudgel bristled in hairmy stoodnieve didlike shake,a stake, i When wi’ an eldritchAmang stoor thequaick—quaick-a springs Awa ye squattered, Onlike whistling a drake, wings. LetTell warlockshow wi’ yougrim, on and ragweed wither’d nags, hags. 68 burns’ poems. They skim the muirsWi’ and wicked dizzy speedcrags, ; And in kirkyards renewOwre theirhowkit leagues, dead. MayThence, plunge countra and wives,plunge wi’ the toil kirn and in pain.vain, for, O ! the yellowBy treasure’s witchin taenskill; And dawtit, twal-pintAs yell’sHawkie's the Bill.gaen OnThence young mystic gudemen, knots makfond, greatkeen, abuse. and crouse When the best wark-loomBy cantrip i’ the wit, house, Is instant made no Justworth at a the louse, bit. AndWhen float thowes the jinglindissolve icy-board, the snawy hoord. Then Water-kclpicsBy haunt your thedirection. foord And ’nighted travelersTo their are allur’ddestruction. And aft your naoss-traversing Spunkiet DecoyThe bleezin, the wight curst, that mischievous late and drunk monkiea is; Till in some miry sloughDelude he his sunk eyes, is. WhenIn storms Masons' and tempests mystic wordraise andye up, grip. Some cock or cat yourOr, ragestrange maun to tellstop. l The youngest BlitherAff ye straight wad whup to hell l WhenLang syne, youthfu’ in Eden's lovers bonnyfirst were yard, pair’d, burns’ POEMS. 69 And a’ the soul of loveThe theyraptur’d shar’d. hour. Sweet on the fragrant,In shadyflowery bow’r: swaird, YeThen cam you, to Paradiseye auld sneak-drawin incog. dog 1 And played on man(Black a cursed be brogue,your fa’ !) And gied the infant’Maist warld ruined a shog, a’. D’ye mind that day, when in a bizz, I Wi’ reekit duds, and restit gizz. Ye did present your’Mang smoutie better phiz, fock, And sklented on theYour man spitefu’ of Uz joke ? And howbrak yehim gat out him o’ i’house your and thrall. hall, While scabs and blotchesWi’ bitter did himclaw. gall, And loos’d his ill-tongu’d,Was warst wicked ava! scawl,, YourBut a’ wily your snares doings and to fechtinrehearse. fierce. Sin’ that day Michael*Down did to youthis pierce,time, Wad ding a LallanIn tongue, prose oror rhyme.Erse, AndA certain now, Bardie’sauld Clooti, rantin, I ken drinkin. ye’re thinkin, Some luckless hourTo will your send black him pit;linkin But, faith f he’ll turnAnd a cheatcorner, you jinkin, yet. 70 burns’ poems. But,O wad fare ye yetak weel, a thought auld Nickie-bcn and men’! t Ye aiblins might—IStill dinna hae ken—a stake— I’m wae to think upo’Ev’n yon for den,your sake!
THE DEATHOF POOR AND MAILIE, DYING WORDS THE AUTHOR’S ONLY PET YOWE. An unco' Mournfu' Tale. AsAY ereMailie ae day and nibbling her lambs, on the thegither, tether. AndUpon owre her clootshe warsl’d she coost in athe hitch, ditch : WhenThere, Hug-hoc*groaning, hedying, came she doytin did lie.by. PoorWi’ Ilughoc glowrin like een, a andstatue lifted stan’s, ban’s. But,He saw wees her my days heart! were henear-hand cou’dna endit,mend it! AtHe lengthgaped widepoor Mailiebut naething silence spak brak: ! Appears“ O thou, to mourn whase my lamentable woef'u’ case face ! AndMy dyingbear themwords to attentive my Master hear. dear: As“ muckle Tell him, gear if as e’er buy again a sheep, he keep Wi’O, bid wicked him neverstrings tie o’ them hemp mair or hair ! AndBut ca’let themthem outwander to park at their or hill. will; SoTo mayscores his o’ flocklambs increase, and packs and o’ grow woo. . neighbour herd-callan. burns’ poems. 71 And“ Tellaye washim, gude he was to mea Master and mine kin’. ; AndMy helpless now my lambs dying Icharge trust themI gie wi’him. him. Frae“ O, dogs, bid andhim tods,save andtheir butcher’s harmless knives! lives, GieTill themthey beo’ gudefit to cow-milkfend themsel; their fill, AndWi’ teatstent themo’ hay duly, and e’enrips o’and corn. morn, | Of“ ither And vilemay wanrestfu’ they never pets learn ! the gaet* AtTo stacksslink thro’ o’ pease, slaps, or and stocks reave o’ andkaiL steal SoFor may monie they, a year like cometheir thro’great theforbears. sheers : AndSo wives bairns will greet gie forthem them bits when o’ bread. they’re dead. O,“ bid My him poor breed toop-lamb, him up my wi’ son care! and heir, AndTo pit if somehe live havins to be ina beast,his breast! AndTo stay warn content him, whatwi’ yowes I winna at hame; name. AndLike noither to rinmenseless, and wear graceless, his cloots, brutes. Gude“ And keep neist, thee myfrae yowie, a tether silly string! thing, (),Wi' may ony thou blastit, ne’er moorland forgather toop up ; Wi’Hut ayesheep keep o’ creditmind tolike moop thysel. and mell I leave“ And my now, blessin my bairns,wi’ you wi’baith my ; last breath, AndMind when to be you kind think to ane upon anither. your mither, To“ tell Now, my honest master Ilughoc, a’ my tale dinna ; fail And bidfor thyhim pains burn thou’sthis cursed get my tether; blether.” 7* burns’ poems. AndThis clos’d said, her poor een Mailie amang turn’d the dead her ! head. POOR MAILIE’S ELEGY. Wi’I.amext saut tearsin rhyme, trickling lament down in your prose, nose; Our bardie’s fatePast is at a’ a remeadclose, ; The last sad cape-stanePoor Mailic's of his woes; dead 1 ThatIt’s no could the losssae bittero’ warld’s draw gear, the tear, Or-mak our bardie,The dowie, mourning wear weed. He's lost a friendIn and Mailic neebour dead. dear, AThro’ lang a’ half-mile the town she she could trotted descry by him him ; ; Wi’ kindly bleat,She when ran shewi’ didspeed spy ; him. A friend mair faithfu’Than ne’erMailie cam dead. nigh him. AndI wat could she was behave a sheep hersel o’ sense,wi’ mense; I’ll say’t, she neverThro’ brak thievish a fence greed, Our bardie, lanely,Sin’ keeps Mailie's the spencedead. HerOr, ifliving he wanders image, upin herthe yoree,howe, Comes bleating toFor him, bits owre o’ bread the knowe,; And down the brinyFor Mai/itpearls rowedead. burns’ poems. 73
TO JAMES SMITH, MERCHANT, MAUCHLINE.
empted stealth or rief, ae someOwre warlock-breef human hearts; me, I swear by sun and moon, S-nd every star that blinksD aboon, 7+ burns’ Poems. Ye’ve cost me twentyJust gaunpair o’to shoon,see you ; And every ither pairMair that’s ta'en done,I’m wi’ you. ToThat make auld amends capricious for carlin,scrimpit Nature, stature, She’s turn’d you Onaff, hera human Jirst plan. creature And in her freaks,She’s on everywrote—the feature, Man. MyJust barmie now I’ve noddle’s ta’en aworking fit of rhyme, prime, IVIy fancy yerkit VTi’up sublime hasty summon t Hae ye a leisure Tomoment’s hear what’s time comin ? Some rhyme (vaina neebour’s thought name !) forto lashneedfu’ ; cash ; Some rhyme to courtAnd theraise countra a din ; clash, For me, an aim I neverrhyme fash— for fun. The star that rules my luckless lot, AtldHas fateddamn'd me mythe fortunerusset coat, to the groat; Has blest me wi’O’ a randomcountra shotwit. ThisTo try while my fatemy notion’sin gude ta’enblack aprent; sklent. ' But still the mairSomething I’m that waycries, bent. “ Hoolie! I red you, honestYe’ll man, shaw tak tent!your folly. Far“ There’s seen in ither Greek, poets, deep much men your o’ letters, betters. burns’ poems. 75 Hae thought theyA’ had future insur’d ages their ; debtors Now moths deform,their in unknown shapeless pages.” tatters, ThenTo garland fareweel my hopes poetic o’ brows laurel-boughs, ! Henceforth I’ll roveAre wherewhistling busy thrang, ploughs And teach the lanelyMy rusticheights sang. and howes I’llHow wander never-halting on, wi’ tentlessmoments heed speed, Till Fate shall snapThen, the allbrittle unknown, thread; I’ll lay me with th’Forgot inglorious and gone! dead, JustBut why,now we’reo’ Death, living, begin sound a tale and ? hale: Then top and maintopHeave crowdCare o’erthe side!sail, And large, beforeLet’s Enjoyment’s tak the tide. gale, Isa’This life,enchanted sae far’s fairy-land, I understand, Where Pleasure That,is the magicwielded wand, right, Maks hours like Danceminutes, by handfu’ light. in hand, F’or,The magicance that wand'then five-and-forty’s let us wield: speel’d, See, crazy, weary,Wi’ joyless wrinkl’d eild, face, Comes hoastin, hirplinWi’ creepin owre thepace. field, W’henThen fareweelance life's vacant day drawscareless near roamin; the gloamin, 76 burns’ poems. And fareweel cheerfu’And socialtankards noise; foamin. And fareweel, dearThe deluding joy o’ joys -.coman, ! YoungO Life !Fancy’s how pleasant rays the in hillsthy morning.adorning ! Void-Causing Caution’sWe frisk lesson away, scorning. Like school-boysTo at joyth’ expectedand play. warning. We eyewander the rosethere, upon we wanderthe brier. here, Unmindful that theAmang thorn the is leaves;near And tho’ the punyShort wound while appear. it grieve*. Some,For which lucky, they find never a flow'ry toil’d spat.nor swat; They drink the sweet,But care and or eat pain the ; fat, And, haply, eye Wi’the barrenhigh disdain. hut Wi’Keen steady hope doesaim, everysome sinewFortune brace chase; ; Thro’ fair, thro’ Andfoul, seizethey theurge prey the :race Then canie, in someThey cozie close place. the day. AndPoor ithers,wights like! nae your rules humble nor roads servan’, observin To right or left, eternalThey zig-zag swervin, on; Till curst wi’ age,They obscure aften and groan. starvin, AlasBwt truce ! what wi’ bitter peevish, toil poorand strainin complainin !— ! burns’ poems. 77 Is Fortune’s fickleE’en Luna let waninher gang ? ! Beneath what lightLet’s she sing has ourremainin, sang. MyAnd pen kneel, I here “ Ye fling pow’rs to the ! anddoor, warm implore, Though I shouldIn wander all her terra climes, o’er. Grant me but this,Aye I rowthask no o’ more, rhymes. Till“ Gie icicles dreeping hing roasts frae their to countra beards lairds,; Gie fine braw claesAnd to maidsfine life-guards. of honour: And yill and whiskyUntil gie they to cairdssconner. A“ Agarter tide, gieDempster to Willie merits Pitt it; ; Gie wealth to some,In be-leger’dcent, per cent. cit, But gie me real SterlingAnd I’m wit. content. “I’ll While sit down ye areowre pleased my scanty to keep meal me hale, Be’t water-brose,Wi’ or muslin-kail,cheerfu’ face, As lang’s the MusesTo say dinna the failgrace.” AnBehint anxious my lug, ee I ornever by my throws nose ; I jouk beneath Misfortune’sAs weel’s I blowsmay; Sworn foe to sorrow,I rhyme care, away.and prose, Grave,O ye douce tideless-blooded, fock, that live calm by andrule, cool, T8 burns’ poems. Compar’d wi’ you—0How much fool! unlikefool! !fool! Your hearts are justYour a livesstanding-pool, a dyke ! Nae hair-brain’d sentimental traces In yourarioio unletter’d trills and nameless graces ! faces ! 'Tint gravissimo, Yesolemn hum bassesaway. NaeYe are ferly sae tho’ grave, ye donae despise doubt ye’re seite, The hairum-scairum,the rattlin ram-stam squad: boys, I see you upwardYe cast ken your the eyes—•road Wi’Whilst you I—but I’ll scarce I shall gang hand ony me ■where— there—, Then, Jamie, I Butshall quat say naemy mair,sang, Content with youWhare’er to mak a Ipair, gang. A DREAM. ButThoughts,words,andtleeds.rhestatuteblames surely Dreams were ne’er indicted treason. with reason. [On reading, in the public papers, the LAUREAT’S ODE, waswith no the sooner other droptPARADE asleep, of thanJune he 4, imagined1786, the himselfAuthor ingtransported fancy, made to the the Birth-day following Levee; Address.] and, in his dream- GDDE-MORNINGMay Heav’n augment to your your Majesty blisses, f OnA every humble new poet Birth-day wishes 1ye see, burns’ poems. ■79 My hardship here, at your levee, Is Onsure sic an a uncouthday as this sight is, to see, Amang thae Birth-daySae fine dresses this day. I see ye’re complimented thrang, “ GodBy mony save thea lord King and !” lady ’s a : cuckoo &«ng, TheThat’s poets, unco too, easya venal said gang, aye : WadWi’ gar rhymes you trow weel ye turn’d ne’er and do wrangready. But aye unerringOn steady sic a day. For me ! before a monarch’s face, ForEv’n neither there pension, I winna post, flatter; nor place, Sae,Am nae I yourreflection humble on yourdebtor; grace. There’sYour kingshipmony waur to bespatterbeen o’ the ; race, And aiblins aneThan been you better this day. ’Tis very true, my sov’reign king. ButMy facts skill are may chiels weel that be winnadoubted ding, ; YourAnd royal downa nest, be beneathdisputed: your wing, AndIs e’ennow rightthe third reft partand clouted,o’ the string, And less, will Thangang aboutdid ae itday- FarTo be’t blame frae yourme that legislation, I aspire OrTo say, rule ye thiswisdom mighty want, nation or fire, ! 80 burns’ poems. r.ut faith ! I muckle doubt, tny Sire, ToWve chaps, trusted wha, in’ministration a barn or byre. Wad better tillThan their courtsstation yon day. And now ye’ve gien auld Britain peace, YourHer sair broken taxation shins does to plaster; her fleece, ForTill me, she thank has scarceGod ! mya tester; life’s a lease, Or.Nae faith bargain ! fear, wearing that, wi’ faster, the geese, I shortly boost1’ to the pasture craft some day. I’rri no mistrusting Willie Pitt, (AndWhen Will's taxes a hetrue enlarges, gude fallow’s gett, ThatA namehe intends not envy to pay spairges), your debt. ButAnd G-d-sake lessen a' ! letyour nae charges saving ; fit Abridge your bonnyAnd boats barges this day. Adieu, my Liege ! may freedom geek AndBeneath may ye your rax highCorruption’s protection neck. ; ButAnd since. gie I’mher forhere, dissection. I’ll no neglect, ToIn nay loyal, your true Queen, affection, with due respect, My fealty and Thissubjection great Birth-day. whileMajesty nobles Most strive Excellent to please ! ye. WillA simpleye accept poet a giescompliment ye ? ThaeStill bonny higher bairntime, may they Heav’nheeze ye has lent, burns’ poems. 81 In bliss, fill Fate some day is sent, For ever to releaseFrae yecare that day. For you, young potentate of Wales, DownI tell Pleasure’s your Highness stream, fairly, wi’ swelling sail*, ButI’m some tauld day ye’re ye maydriving gnaw rarely; your nails, ThatAnd e’er curse ye brakyour Diana'sfolly sairly, pales. Or rattled diceBy wi’ night Charlie, or day. Yet aft a ragged corote's been known To mak a noble aiver ; ffv SaeFor ye a’may their doucely clish-ma-claver fill a throne, : There,Few betterhim* wereat Agincourt or braver wha ; shone, And yet, wi’ funny, queer Sir John ■\x. He was an uncoFor shaver mony a day. For you, right rev’rend Osnaburg, AlthoughNane sets a ribbandthe lawn-sleeve at your lug,sweeter. AsWad ye disown been ayon dress paughty completer dog 4 Then,That swith bears ! theand keys get ofa wife Peter, to hug, . Or, troth! ye’llSome stain luckless the mitre day. * YoungYe’ve royal lately Tarry come Breeks,athwart Iher learn. ; A Weelglorious rigg’d galley for X, Venus' stem andbarter; stem, • f Sirfolm Falstaff. See Shakspeare’s Henry IV. Sailorsi Alluding amour. to the Newspaper account of a certain Royal 82 burns’ poems. But first hang out, then she’ll discern, ThenYour heave hymeneal aboard charter, your grapple aim. And, large upo’Come her fullquarter, that day. Ye, lastly, bonny blossoms a’, lleav’nYe royal mak lasses you gudedainty, as weel as braw, ButAnd sneer gie nayou British lads a-plenty: boys awa. AndFor German kings are Gentles unco scantare but aye sma\ ; They’re better Onjust ony than day. •want aye. God bless you a’! consider now ButYe’re ere theunco course muckle of lifedautit; be through, An’It Imay bae beseen bitter their sautit: coggie fou. ButThat or theyet dayhae wastarrow’t done, at I it;trow. The laggen theyIV hae clean clautet that day. THE VISION.. I>UAN FIRST*. The curlersSun had quat clos’d their the roaring winter play. day, And hunger’d maukinTo kail-yardsta’en her way green. While faithless snawsWhare ilk step she betrayhas been. ♦ Duan, a term of Ossian's for the diflhront divisions ofM'Pherson's a digressive Translation. poem. Sec iiis Cath-Loda, vol. 2d. of burns’ poems. 83 (- The thresher’slee-Iang day weary had flingin-tree tired me; And whan the day Farhad i’clos’d the west, his ee, * Ben i’ the spencc, right1 gaed pensivelie. to rest. ' IThere, sat, and lanely ee’d by the the spewin ingle reek,cheek That fill’d, wi’ hoast-provokingThe auld clay smeek. biggin 5 V And heard the restlessAbout rattons the riggin.squeek A’I backwards in this motty, mus’d misty on wastet clime, time, How I had spent myAnd youthfu’ done naething, prime, * But stringing blethersFor upfools in torhpme. sing. IHad might, I to bygude this, advice hae ledbut aharkit, market. Or struttit in a bank,My and cash-account; clarkit , While-here, half-mad,Is a’ half-fed, th’ amount. half-sarkit, , AndI started, heav’d mutt’ring, on high myblockhead waukit ! loof,coof! 51 To swear by a’ yonOr starry some roof, rash aith, That I, henceforth,Till wad my be lastrhyme-proof breath— Si WhenAnd jee click ! the ! thedoor string gaed theto the sneck wa’; did draw ; L And by my ingle-loweNow I bleezingsaw, bright, j, A tight, outlandishCome hizzic, full braw, in sight. a burns’ poems. YeThe needna infant doubt,aith, half-form’d, I held my whisht;was crusht; I glowr’d as eerie’s InI’d some been wild dusht glen ; When sweet, like modestAnd steppet worth, ben. she blush’t. WereGreen, twisted, slender, gracefu’, leaf-clad round holly-boughs. her brows; I took her for someBy Scottish that same Muse, token; And come to stop thoseWad recklesssoon been vows broken. WasA “ hair-brain’d,strongly marked sentimental in her face trace,” ; A wildly-witty, rusticShone grace. full upon her ; Her eye, ev’n turn’dBeam’d on empty keen space. wi’ honour. DownTill half flow’d a leg her was robe, scrimply a tartan seen sheen. ; And sic a leg ! my Couldbonny only Jean peer it; Sac straught, sae taper,Nane tight, else cam and nearclean, it. MyHer gazingmantle wonderlarge, o’ chiefly greenish drew; hue, Deep lights and shades,A lustre bold-mingling, grand; threw And seem’d, to myA astonish’d xeell-knoten view. land. Here,There, rivers mountains in the tosea the were skies lost; were tost: Here, tumbling billowsWi’ surgingmark’d foam;the coast, There, distant shoneThe Art’s lordly lofty dome. boast, burns’ poems. 85 Here, Doon pour’d down his far-fetch’d floods ; AuldThere hermit well-fed Ayr Irwitie staw throughstately thuds his woods, ! And mony a lesser Ontorrent to the scuds, shore ; Low, in a sandy valley spread. AnStill, ancient as in Scottishborough storyrear’d read, her head, To every nobler virtueShe bred,boasts a race,
MyTo seeheart a racedid *glowin heroic transport wheel, feel, And brandish roundIn the sturdy deep-dy’d blows; steel While back-recoilingTheir seem’d southern to reel foes. BoldHis Cottktry’s Richardton'sX SAViounf, heroic swell; mark him well; The chief on Sark\\,In whohigh glorious command; fell, And He, whom ruthlessHis native fates land.expel 86 burns’ poems. Stalk’dThere, whereround ahis scepter’d ashes lowly Pictish* laid, shade I mark’d a martial Inrace, colours pourtray’d strong ; Bold, soldier-featur’d,They undismay’d; strode along. NearThrough many many a hermit-fancy’d a wild romantic cove, grove-}-, (Fit haunts for Friendship,In musing or mood,for Love), And aged Judge, I Dispensingsaw him rove, good. WithThe learned deep struck, sire and reverential son I saw, awe,J To Nature’s God, andThey Nature’s gave their law, lore; This, all its source That,and end to adore.to draw, Brydone'sBeneath old brave Scotia’s ward smiling || I well eye could ; spy, Who call’d on Fame,To lowhand standing him on. by. Where many a patriot-nameAnd hero onshone. high DUAN SECOND. IWith view’d musing the heav’nly-seeming deep, astonish’d /hir stare, ; A whisp’ring throbOf did kindred witness sweet, bear KyleV Coihis, is said King to take of the its Piets,name, from lies whomburied, the as districttradition of tield,says, nearwhere the his family burial-place seat of isthe still Montgomeries shewn. . of Coils- ti Barskimming,Catrine, the seat the of seat the oflate the Doctor, late Lord ami Justice-Clerk. present Pro- ] Colonel Kullarton. burns’ poems. 87 When with an elderShe sister’s did me air greet. ]“ n All me hail!thy native my own Muse inspired regard Bard ! ! IS’or longer mourn thyThus fate poorly is hard. low I come to gie thee suchAs we reward bestow. i “Has Know, many the a light,great geniusaerial band, of this land Who, all beneath hisHarmoniously, high command, As arts or arms theyTheir understand, labours ply. Some“ They fire Scotia's the soldier race onamang to dare them ; share ; Some rouse the patriotCorruption’s up to bare heart Some teach the bard,The a darlingtuneful care,art. “They, 'Mongst ardent, swelling kindling floods spirits of reeking pour; gore, Or, ’mid the venal They,senate’s sightless, roar, stand, To mend the honestAnd patriot-lore, grace the land. “Charm And whenor instruct the bard, the futureor hoary age, sage, They bind the wildIn poetic energy, rage Or point, the inconclusiveFull on page the eye. “Hence Hence Dempster's Fullarton, zeal-inspired the brave and tongue young ; ; PS burns’ poems. Hence, sweet, harmonious,His ‘ Minstrel Beattie lays sung Or tore, with noblerThe ardour sceptic's stung, bays. “The To humbler lower orders ranks are of assign’dHuman-kind, The rustic Bard, theThe lab’ring Artisan Hind, ; All choose, as variousThe they’re various inclin’d, man. “The When threat’ning yellow wavesstorm thesome heavy strongly grain, rein ; Some teach to meliorateWi’ tillagethe plain. skill; And some instruct Blythethe shepherd owre the train,' hilL Some“ Some grace hint the the Maiden’s Lover’s harmless artless smile; wile ; Some sooth the Lab’rer’sFor humble weary gainstoil And make his cottage-scenesHis cares andbeguile pains. Explore“ Some, atbounded large Man’s to a district-space, infant race, To mark the embryoticOf rustic trace Bard ! And careful note eachA guide op’ning and grace, guard. Anil“ Of thisthese district am I—Coila as mine my I claim.name ; Where once the Campbells,Held ruling chiefs pow’r; of fame, I mark’d thy embryoThy tuneful natal flame,hour. Found,“ With onfuture thy hope,little earlyI oft ways,would gaze, burns’ poems. 89 I Thy rudely-carol’d,In chiming uncouth phrase, rhymes, I Fir'd at the simple Ofartless other lays times. j1 “I saw thee seek the sounding shore, i I>elightedOr when the with north the dashinghis fleecy roar; store * I saw grim Nature’sDrove visage through hoar sky, • ' v Struck thy young -eye. fi Warm“ Or, when cherish’d the deep every green-mantl’d ftow’ret’s birth, earth i And joy and music Inpouring ev’ry grove,forth J I saw thee eye the gen’ralWith boundless mirth love. |j Call’d“ When forth ripened the reapers’ fields, andrustling azure noise, skies, I saw thee leave theirAnd ev’ning lonely joys.stalk, To vent thy bosom’sIn swelling pensive risewalk. “ When youthful Love, warm-blushing, strong, i| Keen-shiveringThose accents, gratefulshot thy tonerves thy tongue, along, I taught thee how toTh’ pour adored in song Name 1 To sooth thy flame. fj “Wild I saw send thy thee pulse’s Pleasure’s maddening devious play, way, ■ Misled by Fancy’s Bymeteor passion ray. driven! j But yet the light thatWas led light astray from Heaven. i “IThe taught loves, thythe manners-paintingways of simple swains, strains, 90 burns' POEMS. Till now, owre all myThy wide fame domains. extends ; And some, the prideBecome of Coila's thy friends.plains. To“ Thou paint eanst with notThomson's learn, nor landscape can I show, glow, Or wake the bosom-meltingWith Shenstonc's throe art; Or pour, with Gray,Warm the moving on the heart.flow The“ Yet lowly all beneath daisy sweetly th’ unrivall’d blows ; rose, Though large the forest’sHis army monarch shade, throw* Yet green the juicyAdown hawthorn the grows,glade. Strive“ Then in never thy humble murmur sphere nor repine to shine; ; And trust me, not Potosi'sNor king’s mine, regard, Can give a bliss o’ermatchingA rustic Bard. thine, “Thy To tunefulgive my flame counsels still allcareful in one, fan ; Preserve the dignityWith of Man, soul erect! And trust, the UniversalWill all Plan protect. And“ And bound wear thethou Holly this,"—she round my solemn head said, : The pplish’d leaves,Did and rustling berries playred, ; And, like a passingIn thought, light away. she fled burns’ poems. 91 ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID; OR, THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS. My son, these maxims make a rule. TheAmi Rigid lump Righteous them ay thegither;is a fool. TheThe cleanest Rigid Wisecorn thatanither: e’er was (light. May haea somefellow-creature piles o’ caff slight in ; For random fits Solomoo’ daffin. O Saeye whapious, are and sae tjaeguitl holy, yoursel, Ye’veYour nought neebour’s to do fauts hut andmark folly and ! tell WhaseSupply’d life iswi’ like store a weel-gaun o’ water, mill, TheAnd heapit still happer’sthe clap ebbingplays clatter. still. HearAs me,counsel ye venerablefor poor mortals,core, ThatFor frequent glaiket Folly’spass doucp portals: Wisdom’s door, I, Wadfor their here thoughtless, propone defences, careless sakes, TheirTheir donsie failings, tricks, and their mischances. black mistakes, YeAnd see yourshudder state at wi’ the theirs niffer; compar’d, ButWhat cast makesa moment’s the mighty fair regard, differ ; f)2 burns’ poems. DiscountThat purity what yescant pride occasion in, gave. AndYour what’s better aft art mair o’ hiding.than a’ the lave) Think,Gies nowwhen and your then castigated a wallop, pulse WhatThat ragings still eternal must gallop:his veins convulse, Wi’Right wind on and ye tidescud fair your i’ sea-wayyour tail. ; ButIt inmaks the anteeth unco o’ baithlee-way. to sail, SeeA’ Social joyous Life and and unthinking, Glee sit down, Till,Debauchery quite transmugrify’d, and drinking; they’re grown O Th’wad eternalthey stay consequences; to calculate OrDamnation your more ofdreaded expenses! hell to state, YeTied high, up exalted, in godly virtuous laces, dames, BeforeSuppose you agie change pooi frailtyo’ cases names, ; A Adear treacherous lov’d lad, inclination convenience snug, ButYe’re, let me aiblins, whisper nae i’ temptation.your lug, ThenStill gently gentler scan sister your woman brother ; man, Tho’To theystep mayaside gangis human: a kennin wrang, OneThe point moving must why still theybe greatly do it; dark, AndHow just far as perhaps lamely canthey ye rue mark, it. burns’ poems. 93 ■W'ha made the heart, ’tis He alone H eDecidedly knows each can chord, try ns, its various tom ThenKacb at spring,the balance its various let’s be bias mute, :
TAM SAMSON’S* ELEGY.
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Klknarnock lang may grunt and grane, And sigh,deed andher bairns,sab, and man, greet wife, her lane,and wean. 94 burns’ poems. MayThe brethrenhing their o’ headthe mystic in woefu’ level. bevel. While by their noseLike the ony tears bead; will revel, Death’s gien the TamLodge Samson’s an unco .dead devel, ! AndWhen binds winter the muffles mire up up like his acloak. rock ; When to the loughsWi’ thegleesome curlers speed, flock, Wha will they stationTam Samson’sat the cock dead! ? lieTo guard,was the or king draw, o’ a’or thewick core, a bore, Or up the rink likeIn timeJehu o’ roar need ; But now he lags Tamon death’s Samson’s hog-score, dead! AndNow troutssafe the bedropp’d stately saumont wi’ crimson sail, hail, And eels, weel kendAnd for geds souple for greed, tail, Since dark in death’sTam jisA-cm-f Samsorf dead we wail, ! YeRejoice cootie ye muircocks, birring paitricks crousely a’; craw ; Ye maukins, cockWithoutten your fuds fu’dread; braw, Your mortal fae Tamis now Samson’s awa’, dead. That woefu’ morn be ever mourn’d WhileSaw him pointers in shooting round graith impatient adorn’d. bum’d, Krae couples freed ; 1 But, och ! he gaedTam and Samson’s ne’er return’d dead ! burns' poems. 95 In vain auldthe gout age hishis anclesbody batters; fetters; In vain the burnsAn cam acre down braid! like waters. Now ev’ry auld wife,Tam greetin,Samson’s clatters, dead ! AndOwre ay monie the tithera wearie shot hag he hethumpit, limpit. Till coward deathWi’ behint deadly him feide; jumpit, Now he proclaims,Tam wi’ Samson’s tout o’ trumpet, dead! WhenHe reel’d at hishis heartwonted he bottlefelt the swagger. dagger, But yet he drew Wi’the mortalweel-aim’d trigger heed ; “ Lord, five,” heTam tried, Samson’s and owre dead! did stagger ; Ilk hoarysportsman-youth hunter mourn’d bemoan’d a brither! a father? Yon auld gray stane,Marks amang out his the head, heather, Whar Burns hasTam wrote, Samson's in rhymin dead blether, ! I! PerhapsThere, low upon he hislies, mouldering in lasting rest;breast Some spitefu’ muirfowlTo hatch bigs and her breed nest. ! Alas ! nae mair Tamhe’ll themSamson’s molest! dead ! WhenAnd sportsmen August windswander the by heather yon grave, wave, Three vollies let O’his pouthermem’ry an’crave lead ; Till Echo answerTam frae Samson’sher cave, dead! 96 burns’ poems. HeavenIs th’ wish rest o’ his mony sauJ, mae whare’er than mehe ;be 1 He had twa fauts,Yet or whatmaybe remead three. ? Ae social honest Tamman wantSamson’s we dead ! T//£ EPITAPH. TamYe Samson’scanting zealots weel-worn spare him clay ! here lies, If Ye’llhonest mend worth or in ye heaven win near rise. him. PER CONTRA. Thro’Go, Fame, a’ the and streets canter and like neuks a filly o’ KUlie *, Tell every social Tohonest cease billie his grievin ; For yet, unskaith’dI'am by Samson's death’s gleg Twin gullie, ! for•Ttiilie Kilmarnock. is a phrase the country folks sometimes
‘98 burns’ poems. Whar Bruce * ance rul’d the martial ranki, SomeA.nd merry, shook friendly,the Carrick countra spear. focks, ToTogether burn their did nits, conveen, and pou their stocks, And haud theirkV Halloween, blythe that night. The lasses feat, and cleanly TheirheirMair faces braw blytlblythe, tillthan whenfu’’ sweetly they’re kythe. fine }. TheHearts lads saeleal, trig, and wi’warm, wooer-babs, and kin’; . SomeWeel unco knotted blate, on and their some garten, wi’ gabs, Gar lasses heartsWhyles gang faststartin, at night. Then, first and foremost, thro’ the kail, TheyTheir steek slocks their -f- een,maun and a’ begraip sought and anciwal PoorFor hav’rpl muckle Will anes, fell and aff straight the drift, anes. AndAnd pou’t, wander’d forewarn thro’ o’ thebetter bow-kail. shift, burns’ poems. 99 Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane, TheThey very roar wee-ihings, and cry a’todlin, throu’ther; rip, AndWi’ gif stocks the custock's out-owre sweet their orshouther sour, ; SyneWi’ coziely, joctelegs aboon they the taste door, them; Wi’ cannie careTo they’ve lie that plac’d night. them TheTo lasses pou theirstaw stalksfrae ’mang o’ corn them * ; a’. ButBehint Rab slipsthe muckle out, and thorn jinks : about ■ He grippit Nelly hard and fast; ButLoud her tap-pickleskirl’d a’ the maist lasses was ; lost. When kittlin i’Wi’ the himfause-house-f- that night. The auld Gudewife’s weel hoordit nits %, AndAre monia round lads and and round lasses divided, fates SomeAre kindle,there that couthie, night side decided: by side. SomeAnd start burn awa, thegither wi’ saucy trimly pride. ; And jump out-owreFu’ high the thatchimlie night. teveral• Thev times, g(1 toa stalkthe barn-yard,of oats. Ifand the pull third each stalk at wantsthree the top-pickle,irtj? in qucf that 4i~' is, will the co grain e toat the marriage-beitop of the stalk, greent When or wet, the the corn stack-builder, is in a doubtful by means state, of by old being timber, too ing*c. inmakes the side a large which apartment is most inexposed his stack, to thewith wind an ;open- this he+ calls Uuming 3 fause-house. the nuts is a favourite charm. They name d'and _id lass accordingly to each particular as they bi nub n asquietly they togettlay them ter start courtship from besidewill be. one another, the 100 burns’ poems. Jean slips in twa, wi’ tentie ee; ButWHa this ’twasis Joe*, she andwadna thi, tell; is me, HeShe bleez’d says owrein to her,hersel: and she owre him, ’TillAs fuft'!they wadhe started never upmair the part; lum. And Jean had Toe’en see’t a sair that heart night. Poor Willie, wi’ his bow-kail runt, AndWas AI allie,burnt, nae wi’ doubt, primsie took Mallie; the drunt. Mali'sTo be nit compar’d lap out, towi’ Willie; pridefu’ fling, WhileAnd Willieher ain lap,fit it and brunt swore it; by jing, ’Twas just theTo way be he that wanted night. Kell had the fause-house in her min’. In Sheloving pits bleeze hersel theyand sweetlyRob in ;join, Kell’sTill heartwhite wasin ase dancin they’re at thesohbin view : ; Rob,She stowlins, whisper’d pried Rob her to leukbonny for’t: mou, IV cozie in theUnseen neuk for’t,that night. But Merran sat bchint their backs. SheHer lea’es thoughts them gashinon Andrew at their Bell; cracks, SheAnd thro’ slips the out yard by the hersel: nearest taks, AndAnd darklins to the kilngraipit she for goes the then, banks. And in the blue-due*Right fear’t throwns that then.night. strictly* Whoever observe would, these directions;with success, Steal try out, this all spell, alot BURNS POEMS.
“Willee Jenny yegaewi’ to her Grannie me, Grannie says, ?
“Ye little skelpie-limmer’s face I AsI seekdaur the you foul try thiefsic sportin, ony place, NaeFor doubt him butto spae ye mayyour get fortune: a sight ! ForGreat monie cause a ane ye hashae gottento fear a it; fright, And liv’d and Ondi’d sic deleeret. a night. 102 burns’ poems. 1 was a gilpey then, I’m sure TheI wassimmer nae pasthad beenfifteen cauld : and wat, AndAnd aye stuff a rantin was uncokirn greenwe gat, ; And just on HalloweenIt fell that night. “ Our stibble-rig was Rab M‘Graen, HisA sinclever gat sturdyEppie Simfallow wi’ ; wean, HeThat gat hemp-seed*,liv’d in Achmacalla I mind ;it weel. ButAnd monie he madea day unco was hylight himsel, o’t; He was sae sairlyThat frighted vera night.” Then up gat fechtin Jamie Fleck, ThatAnd he he could swore saw by hemp-seed his- conscience, a peck, The auld gudeman raught down the pock. SyneAnd bade out hima handfu’ slip frae gied ’mang him ;the fock, Some time whenAnd nae try’t ane that see’d night. him, HeTho’ marfches he was thro’ something amang the sturtin; stacks, TheAnd graip haurls he forat his a harrow curpin taks,: * Steal out, unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp, draweeetl, afterharrowing you. itRepeat, with any now thing and youthen, can “ Hemp-seedconveniendy I issaw to thee, he mvheinp-seed true-love, I saw come thee; after and me him and (or pou her) thee." that Klook neeover of your the personleft shoulder, invoked, and in theyou attitude will see of thepulling ap- thee,"L thatSome is, showtraditions thyself; say, in“ Comewhich after ease me,it simply and shaw ap- terpears. me, Othersand harrow omit thee.’the harrowing, and say, “ Come af- BURNS POEMS. 103 And every now and then, he says, And“ Hemp-seedher that is toI sawbe my thee. lass. Come after me,As and fast draw this thee,night.” He whistl’d up Lord Lenox’ march. AlthoughTo keep his his hair courage began cheery to arch, ;. TillHe presently was sae fley’dhe hears and a eeriesqueek, : HeAnd by histhen shouther a grane gaeand a gruntle keek, : And tumbled wi’Out-owre a wintle that night. He roar’d a horrid murder-s AndIn youngdreadfu’ and desperation auld cam ri! To hear theis sad hilchin narration , [1> stop crouchie ! she Merrantrotted thro’Humphie, them a’;
MegTo fainicin' wad three tc •wechtsthe barn o' haenaething* gane, j tlittle the deilfaith her in: lane, 101 eunN-S’ POEMS. She gies the herd a pickle nits, ToAnd watch, twa whilered-cheekit for the apples, barn she gets,' In hopes to seeThat Tam vera Kipples nighu She turns the keys wi’ cannie thraw. ButAnd first owre on Sawniethe threshold gies a ca’,ventures; A Syneration bauldly rattled in up she the enters: wa’, AndAnd ran she thro’ cried, midden-hole L—d preserve an’ a’, her! And pray’d wi’Fu’ zeal fast and that fervour, night. They hoy’t out Will, wi’ sair advice : It Theychanc’d hecht the himstack some he faddom't fine braw thrice* ane ! IIeWas taks timmer a swirlie propt auld for moss-oak. thrawin: AndFor loot some a winze, black grousomeand drew acarlin stroke. : Till skin in blypesAff’s cam nieves haurlin that night. A wanton widow Leevie was. But,As ochcantie ! that as a night, kittlin amang ; the shaws. SheShe thro’ gat thea fearfu’ whins, settlin and by ! the cairn, WhareAnd owrethree thelairds' hill landsgaed scrievin,met at a burn,f To dip her leftWas sark bentsleeve that in, night. »taek,• Take and anfathom opportunity it three oftimes going, round. unnoticed, The last to fathom,n llcar- ofance the of last your time, future you conjugal will catch yoke-fellow. in your arms the appear- a south-runningt You go out, spring,one or more,or rivulet, for thiswhere is a “ social Three spell, lairds’ to burns’ poems. 105 Whyles
WhenSharp shivers biting through Boreas, thefell leafless and doure, bow’r ; When Phoebus giesFar a southshort-liv’d the lift, glow’r Dim-dark’ning throughOr whirling the flaky drift: show’r, AePoor night Labour the stormssweet in the sleep steeples was locked,rocked, While burns, wi’Wild-eddying snawy wreathes swirl, up-choaked, Or through the miningDown headlongoutlet bocked, hurl. List’ning,1- thought methe ondoors the andourie winnocks cattle, rattle, Or silly sheep, whaO’ winterbide this war, brattle And through theBeneath drift, deep-lairing, a scar. sprattle ThatIlk happing in the merrybird, wee,months helpless o’ spring, thing ! Delighted me to Whear hat thee comes sing, o’ thee ? Whare wUt thou Andcow’r close thy thycluttering ee ? wing. 112 BURNS’POEMS. Ev’nI,one youfrom on your murd’ring savage homeserrands exil’d, toil’d, The blood-stain’dMy roost, heart and forgets, sheep-cote spoil’d, While pitiless theSore tempest on you wild beats. Now,Dark muffl’d,Phcebe, inview’d her midnight the dreary reign, plain, Still crowding thoughts,Rose in amy pensive soul, train, When on my earSlow, this plaintivesolemn, stolestrain, — And“ Blow, freeze, blow, thou ye bitter-bitingwinds, with heavierFrost! gust f Descend,Not a! your ye chilly,rage, as smothering now united, Snows shows ! VengefulMore hard Malice, unkindness, unrepenting. unrelenting, Than heav’d-illumin’dstows. Man on brother Man be. SeeOr stern mad Oppression’s Ambition’s goryiron grip.hand. Sending,Wo, want, like andblood-hounds murder, o’er from a landthe slip, ! Truth,Ev’n in weeping, the peaceful tells rural the mournful vale, tale, HowThe pamper’d parasite empoisoningLuxury, Flatt’ry her ear,by her side. HooksWith o’er all proudthe servile Property wretches extended in the wide rear, ; AndWhose eyes toil the upholds simple, the rustic glittering Hind, show, SomeA creature coarser of substance,another kind. unrefin’d, Plac’dWhere, for herwhere lordly is Love’suse thus fond, far, thustender vile throe, below. WithThe lordly pow’rs Honour’s you proudly lofty own brow, ? burns’ poems. 113 CanIs there, harbour, beneath dark, Love’s the selfish noble aim,name, MarkTo blessMaiden-innocence himself alone a? prey ThisTo boastedlove pretending Honour turnssnares away, ; RegardlessShunning of soft the Pity’s tears risingand unavailing sway, pray’rs! ShePerhaps, strains this your hour, infant in Mis’ry’sto her joyless squalid breast, nest. And withblast! a mother’s fears shrinks at the rocking FeelOh not ye a! wantwho, butsunk what in beds yourselves of down, create, Think,Whom for friends a moment, and fortuneon his wretchedquite disown fate, ! IllStretch’d satisfied keenon his Nature’s straw he clam’rous lays himself call, to sleep. WhileChill, thro’ o’er thehis slumbers,ragged roof piles and the chinky drifty wall. heap ! WhereThink onGuilt the anddungeon’s poor Misfortune grim confine, pine! Guilt,But shall erring thy man,legal relentingrage pursue view ! TheBy cruel wretch Fortune’s already undeservedcrushed low blow ? AAffliction’s brother to sons relieve, are brothers how exquisite in distress; the bliss !'* I heardShook nae aff mair,the pouthery for Chanticleer snaw, AndA cottage-rousinghail’d the morning craw. wi’ a cheer, ButThrough deep this all truth His worksimpress’d abroad, my mind— TheThe heart most benevolent resembles and God. kind 114 BURNS* POEMS* EPISTLE TO DAVIE,* A BROTHER POET. January • — AndWhile bar windsthe doors frae wi’ aff driving Ben-Lomond snaw, blaw. I setAnd me hing down us toowre pass the the ingle, time, AndIn spinhatnely a verse westlin or twa jingle. o’ rhyme, WhileBen frostyto the windsehimla blaw lug, in the drift, I grudgeThat live a wee sae thebien great and folk’ssnug : gift, I tentTheir less, roomy and fire-side;want less ButTo hanker see their and cursed canker pride. ToIt’s keep,hardly at in times, a body's frae powerbeing sour. HowTo bestsee howo’ chiels things are are whyles shar’d; in want, WhileAnd coofskenna on how countless to wair’t; thousands rant, ButThough Davie, we lad, hae ne’er little fash gear. your head, We’reAs lang's fit to we’rewin our hale daily and bread, fier : MairAuld speerAge ne’erna, tier mind fear a na,”-{* feg ; TheIs lastonly o’t, for theto beg. warst o’t, To lie in kilns and bams at e’en. WhenIs doubtless, banes are great craz'd, distress and blude! is thin. thor* David of a Volume Sillar, oneof Poems^rnthe of the club atScottish Tarbolton, dialect. and au* burns’ POEMS. 115 Yet then content could mak us blest; Ev’nO’ then,truest sometimes,happiness. we’d snatch a taste TheIntended honest heartfraud that’sor guile. free frae a’ HoweverHas ay Fortunesome cause kick to the smile; ha’, AndA mindcomfort still, this you’ll nae sma’; find still, NaeNae mair farther then, can we’ll we carefa’. then, WeWhat wander tho’ like out, commoners we know not of air,where, YetHut Nature’s either housecharms, or thehall hills ? and woods, TheAre sweeping free alike vales, to all. and foaming floods, In Anildays blackbirdswhen daisies "whistle deck clear,the ground. Wi’To honest see the joy coming our hearts year :will bound, OnWe’ll braes sitwhen and wesowth please, a tune then. ; SyneAnd rhyme sing’t till’t, when we’ll we hae time done. till’t, It’s no in titleswealth nor like in Lon’onrank ; bank, It’sTo no purchase in makin peace muckle and mair rest; : It’sTo no mak in books, us truly it’s blest: no in lair, If Andhappines centre hae in notthe herbreast, seat WeBut may never be wise,can be or blest: rich, or great, NaeCould treasures, mak usnor happy pleasures, lang ; TheThat heart mak’s aye’s us the right part or aye, wrang. 116 BURNS* POEMS. ThinkWha drudge ye, that and sift .drive as you thro’ and wet I, and dry, Think'Wi’ ye,never-ceasing are we less toil; blest than they, AVhaAs scarcelyhardly worth tent ustheir in theirwhile way, ? Alas!God’s how creatures aft in haughtythey oppress mood, ! OrThey else, riotneglecting in excess a’ !that’s gude, BaithOf eithercareless heav’n and fearlessor hell; EsteemingIt’s a an andidle deemingtale ! NorThen mak let usour cheerfu’ scanty pleasuresacquiesce less.; And,By evenpining should at our misfortuneis state; come, I, And’shere wha thankfu’ sjt, hae for met them wi’ yet some, TheyThey gie let the us witken o’ oursel; age to youth ; TheyThe mak real usgude see andthe nakedill. truth, Tho’Be losses,lessons andright crosses, severe, There’sYe’ll findwit there,nae other ye’ll where. get there. But(To tentsay oughtme, Davie, less wad ace wrang o’ hearts, the cartes. ThisAnd life flatt’ry has joys I detest), for you and I, AndAnd joys joys that the riches very best.ne’er could buy, There’sThe lover a’ the and pleasures the frien’; o' the heart, YouAnd hae I youriny darling Meg, yourJean dearest! part, burns’ poems. 117 It Towarms mention me, itbut charms her name me, ; It heatsAnd setsme, meit beetsa’ on me,flame. O,O Thou,ail ye pow’rs,whose very who self rule art above love ! TheThou life-blood know’st’my streaming words thro’ sincere my heart,I OrIs my not more more dear fondly immortal dear ! part, WhenDeprive heart.corroding my soul of rest.care and grief HerAnd dear solace idea tobrings my breast.relief, ThouO hear Being, my ferventAll-seeing, pray’r ; StillThy take most her, peculiar and make care! her TheAll hail, smile ye of tender love, thefeelings friendly dear tear. ! DongThe since sympathetic this world’s glow; thorny way* HadHad number’d it not been out formy youweary ! days, FateIn stillevery has care blest and me ill; with a friend. AndA tieoft morea more tender endearing still. band, It Thelightens, tenebrific it brightens scene, ToMy meet Davie with, and and my greet Jean. with O,The how words that come name skelpin inspires rank my andstyle file, f TheAmaist ready beforemeasure I ken! rins as fine. AsWere Phtcbus glowrin and theo’er famous my pen. Nine 118 burns’ poems. MyTill spaviet ance Pegasushe’s fairly will het; limp, AndAnd then fin he’ll an unco hilch, fit; and stilt, and jimp, ButShould lest then, rue thisthe beasthasty then,ride. I’llHis light sweaty now, wizen’dand dight hide. now THE LAMENT, Occasioned by the unfortunateAmour. Issue of a Friend's AlasAm 1 0 Whilethou care-untroubledpale orb, that silent mortals shines, sleep ! ThouAnd see’st wanders a wretch here tothat wail inly and pines. weep ! AVithBeneath Wo Ithy nightly wan, vigilsunwarming keep, beam; AndHow mourn, Life andin lamentation Love are all deep. a dream. 1 joylessThe faintly-marked view thy rays distantadorn hill; I joylessReflected view in thythe tremblinggurgling rill:horn MyThou fondly-fluttering busy power, heart,Remembrance, be still! cease ! AhFor ! must ever thebar agonizingreturning peace!thrill NoMy idly-feigrt’d sad, love-lorn poetic lamentings pains, claims; burns’ poems. tI9 NoNo shepherd’s fabled tortures, pipe—Arcadian quaint and strains tame; ; TheThe plighted oft-attested faith ;Powers the mutual above; flame ; TheThese promis'd were Father'sthe pledges tender of my name love ; ! EncircledHow have in herthe claspingraptur’d arms,moments flown ! HowFor have her dearI wish’d sake, for and fortune’s hers alone charms, ! AndMy must sacred I thinkheart’s it! exulting is she goneboast! ? AndAnd does is dieshe ever,heedless ever hear lost my? groan ? O So! can lost she to bearHonour, so base lost ato heart. Truth, AsThe from plighted the fondest husband lover of part, her youth! AlasHer ! waylife’s may path lie may through be unsmooth rough distress ! ! . ; Then,Her whosorrows her share,pangs andand makepains themwill sooth.less ? YeEnraptut’d winged hours more, that the o’er more us past,enjoy’d, YourMy dear fondly-treasur’d remembrance thoughts in my breast. employ’d. ThatFor breast, her too how scanty dreary once now, of room and void,! Ey’nAnd every not aray wish of hopeto gild destroy’d, the gloom ! TheAwakes morn thatme up warns to toil th’ andapproaching wo: day, I seeThat the I hoursmust insuffer, long lingering, array, slow. FullKeen many Recollection’s a. pang and direfulmany atrain, throe. MustShall ring kiss my the soul, distant, ere Phoebus,western main.low, 120 burns’ poems. AndSore-harass’d when my nightly out with couch care Iand try, grief. MyKeep toil-beat watchings nerves, with and the tear-worn nightly eye.thiefr Or,Reigns if 1 slumber, haggard-wild, Fancy, in chief, sore affright: EvenFrom day, such all-bitter, a horror-breathing brings relief, night, O,-Now thou highestbright reign’st,Queen, who with o’er boundless the expanse, sway OftObserv’d lias thy us,silent-marking fondly-wand’ring, glance stray; TheWhile time, Love’s unheeded, luxurious sped away,pulse beat high. BeneathTo mark thy the silver-gleaming mutual-kindling ray, eye. OhScenes, ! scenes never, in strong never, remembrance to return; set! Scenes,Again if I in feel, stupor again I forget,I burn! FromLife’s every weary joy valeand I’llpleasure wander torn, through; AndA faithlesshopeless, woman’scomfortless, broken I’ll vow.mourn DESPONDENCY. ANT ODE. Oppress’dA burden more with than grief, I can oppress’d bear, with care O ILife! set me Thou down art and a gallingsigh : load, AlongTo wretches a rough, such a weary as I road.! DimWhat backward sick’ning as Iscenes cast my appear! view. WhatToo sorrowsjustly I yetmay may fear pierce l me through. BL'RNS’ POEMS. 121 StillMust caring, be my despairing, bitter doom ; MyBut woes with here the shall closing close tomb. ne’er, , Happy,Who, equal ye sons to the of busybustling life, strife, |i EvenNo whenother theview wished regard end') ; denied, ,■ l etThey while bring the busytheir meansown reward are plied, : if4 WhilstUnfitted I, a with hope-abandon’d an aim, wight, > MeetAnd every joyless sad morn returning the same. night, i You,Forget bustling, each griefand justling, and pain ; 5, 4 1 listless,Find every yet restless,prospect vain. 1f Who,How blest all-forgetting, the Solitary’s all-forgot, lot, I1 TheWithin cavern his wild, humble with cell,tangling roots, I SitsBeside o’er his his newly-gather’dcrystal well! fruits, f Or,By haply, unfrequented to his evening stream, thought, j> TheA waysfaint-collected of men are dream distant : brought, j' WhileHis thoughtspraising, toand Heaven raising on high. f AsHe wand’ring, views the meand’ring, solemn sky. ;i f■ ThanWhere I, never no lonely human hennit footstep plac’d trac’d, i | TheLess lucky fit tomoment play the to part;improve, ; AndWith just self-respecting to stop, andjwst art; to move, 122 burns’ poems. 15utWhich ah ! thoseI too pleasures,keenly taste, loves, and joys, TheCan Solitary want, andcan yetdespise, be blest! HeOr needs human not, love he heedsor hate, not. WhilstAt perfidy I here, ingrate must !cry here. "WhenOh ! enviable, dancing thoughtlessearly days, Pleasure’s maze. HowTo illcare, exchanged to guilt forunknown riper times, ! ToOf feel others, the follies, or my orown the ! crimes YeLike tiny linnetselves that in theguiltless bush, sport, YeWhen little knowmanhood the illsis your ye court, wish ! TheThe losses, active the man crosses. engage ! TheOf fears dim-declining all, the tears age all, ! * WINTER, A DIRGE. TheAnd Wintry hail and west rain extends does blaw his blast.; Or,The the blinding stormy Northsleet and sends snaw driving : forth WhileAnd tumblingroars frae brown,bank to the brae; burn comes down, AndAnd bird pass and the beast heartless in covert day. rest, ‘ TheThe sweeping joyless Winter-day, blast, the sky o’ercast*,’ * Dr. Young. burns’ poems. 123 .'l COTTER’S SATURDAY NIGHT, iftlv lov’d, my honour’d, much respected friend f «With No honestmercenary pride, Bard I scorn his homage each selfish pays end,; •tTo My you dearest I sing, meed, in simple a friend’s Scottish esteem lays. and praise} TheThe native lowly feelings train in strong, life’s sequester’dthe guileless scene ways, : AhWhat ! tho’ Aitkcn his worth in a cottagenknown, would fa? happierhave been; there, fifovemberThe shortening chill blaWs winter loud day wi’ is angrynear asugh close : ; 124 burns’ poems. TheThe miry blackening-trains beasts retreating o' fraecraws the to pleugh their repose ; TheThis toil-worn night hisCotter weekly frae moil his labouris at an goes, end, CollectsHoping his the spades, morn hisin easemattocks, and rest and to his spend. hoes, And weary,ward o’erbend. the muir, his course does haras At length his lonely Cot appears in view, Th’lleneath expectant the urc-things, shelter of antoddlin, aged tree;stacker throng HisTo wee-bit meet their ingle Dad, blinkin wi’ fiichterinbonnilie. noise and gle TheHis lisping clean infanthearthstane, prattling his onthrifty his knee. JVi/ie's smii AndDoes makes a* his him weary quite carking forget his cares labour beguile. and his toi Belyve the elder bairns come drappin in. SomeAt serviceca’ the outplough, amang some the herd, farmers some roun’; tentie ri TheirA cannie eldest errand hope, theirto a neebourJenny, womantown : grown,! ComesIn youthfu’ hame, perhaps,bloom, loveto shew sparklin a braw in hernew ee,govs ToOr help deposite her Parents her sair-won dear, if penny-fee, they in hardship ' Wi’ joy unfeign’d brothers and sisters meet, TheAnd social each hours, for other’s swift-wing’d, weelfare unnotic’dkindly spiers, fleet jj TheEach Parents, tells the partial, uncos ce that their he hopefu’sees or hearsyears: ; j TheAnticipation Mother, wi’ forward her needle points and the her view sheers, : TheGars Father auld mixesclaes look a’ wi’ amaist admonition as weel’s due. the ne TheirThe Master’syounkers and a’ aretheir warned Mistress’s to obey command, ; BURNS POEMS. 125 itid mind their labours wi’ an eydent hand, | AndAnd O ne’er, ! be suretho’ outto fear o’ sight, the Lord to jauk alway or play ! ; estAnd in mindtemptation’s your duty path duly ye gangmorn astray.and night! 'heyImplore never his sought counsel in vainand assistingthat sought might: the Lobd hark ! a rap comes gently to the door, ‘ellsJenny, how whaa neebour kens the lad meaning came o’er o’ thethe moor,same, 'he wilydo somemother errands, sees the and conscious convoy herflame hame. rSparkle in Jenny's ee, and flush her cheek ; Whileith heart-struck Jenny hafflins anxious is afraidcare inquires to speak, his name, ^’eel-pleas’d,worthless the rake. Mother hears, it’s nae wild Vi’A kindlystrappan welcome youth ;Jenny he taks brings the Mother’s him ben ;eye; llythe, The FatherJenny seescracks the o’ visit’s horses, no pleughs, ill taen ;and kye. ?heBut Voungster’s blate and laithfu’,artless heart scarce o’erflows can weel wi’ behave: joy. ' "heWhat Mother, makes wi’ the a youthwoman’s sae bashfu’wiles, can and spy sae grave: ' Veel-pleas’dlave. to think her bairn's respectit like tire • i.I Ohappy heartfelt love raptures! where love! bliss like beyond this is compare found ! ; 'veAnd paced sage much Experience this weary, bids mortalme this round. declare— IfOne Heaven cordial a draughtin this melancholy of heavenly vale, pleasure spare. ITisIn whenother’s a youthful,arms, breathe loving, out modest the tender pair. tale, leneathing the gale.’ milk-white thorn that scents the even, 126 burns’ poems. Is Athere, Wretch in human ! a Villain form, ! thatlost bearsto love a heart—and truth ! ThatBetray can, sweet with studied,Jenny's sly,unsuspecting ensnaring youth art, ? (CurseAre Honour,on his perjur’d Virtue, arts) Conscience, dissembling all exil'd smooth ? ! Is Pointsthere no to Pity,the Parents, no relenting fondling Ruth, o’er their child ? Then paintswild ? the ruin’d Maid, and their distractionl But now the supper crowns their simple board, i TheThe soupe healsome their onlypurrilck, Harvlcie chief does o’ Scotia'safford, food ^ TheThat Dame ’yont brings the hallanforth, snuglyin complimental chows her mood, cood : i AndTo aft grace he's the prest, Lad, andher weel-hain’daft he ca’s it kebbuck guid; fell. ! HowThe ’twas frugal a towmond Wide, garrulous, auld, sin’ lintwill was tell. i’ the belL The cheerfu’ Supper done, wP serious face, , TheThey Sire round turns theo’er, ingle wi’ patriarchalform a circle grace, wide; J HisThe bonnet big ha'JBible,rev’rently anceis laid his aside, father’s pride s i ThoseHis lyartstrains haffets that oncewearing did sweetthin and in Zionbare; glide, • AndHe ‘ walesLet us a •worship portion Godwith judicious!’ he says, care. with solemij They chant their artless notes in simple guise : PerhapsThey tuneDundee's their wild-warblinghearts, by far themeasures noblest rise aim ; j OrOr noble plaintive Elgin Martyr's, beets the heaven-wardworthy of the flame, name j i Compar’dThe sweetest with these,far of ItalianScotia's trills holy are lays« tame; NaeThe unison tickl’d hae ears they no with heartfelt our Creator'sraptures raise;praise. ^ burns' poems- 127 the priest-like father reads the sacred page, •, DrHow Motes Abram bade waseternal the warfareFriend wage,of God on high ; DrWith how theAmalck's royal Bardungracious did groaning progeny lie ; 'Pr Beneath Job’s pathetic the stroke plaint, of H and eaven’s wailing avenging cry ; ire; DrOr other rapt holy Isaiah's Seers wild", that tuneseraphic the sacredfire ; lyre. Perhaps|) How guiltless the Christian blood forVolume guilty is manthe theme,was shed ; Ilowi Had He, not who on earthbore inwhereon Heaven to the lay second his head name, : flowThe his precepts first followers sage they and wrote servants to many sped, a land : fflow Saw he, in whothe sunlone a inmighty Patmos angel banished, stand; idnd heardHeaven’s great command.Bab'lon's doom pronounc’d by thenkneelingdo wntoll eaven’sEternalKiSc, opeThe ‘ Saint,springs the exulting Father, on and triumphant the Husbahd, wing*,’ prays: There:i That ever thus bask they in all uncreated shall meet rays, in future days : Together> more hymning to sigh, theiror shed Creator's the bitter praise, tear, WhileIn such circling society, time movesyet still roundin more dear an eternalsphere. ; (Compar’dIn all the with pomp this, of how method, poor andReligion’s of art, pride, H’yi'hen men display to congregations wide, 'heDevotion’s Power, incens’d,every grace, the exceptpageant the will heart desert. ! 31utThe haply, pompous in some strain, cottage the sacerdotalfar apart, stole; AndMay in hear,his Book well-plcas’d, of Life thethe languageinmates poor of the enrol. soul; Pope’s Windsor Forest. I 12S BURNS’ POEMS. Then homeward all take off their several way; TheThe parent youngling pair their Cottagers secret retirehomage to pay,rest; ThatAmi He, profier who upstills to theHeaven raven’s the clamorouswarm request, nest, Would,And decks in the the way lily His fair Wisdom in flowery sees pride, the best, ButFor chiefly them in and their for hearts their with little grace ones divineprovide; preside* FromThat sceneslikethese makes her lov’d old atAco/ia’.? home, grandeur rever’d abroad:springs. Princesk and lords are but the breath of kings, And An certes, honest in man’sfair Virtue’s the noblest heavenly work road.of God WhatThe iscottage a lordling’s leaves pompthe palace ! a cumbrous far behind load, ; StudiedDisguising in arts oft of the hell, wretch in wickedness of human refin’dkind. ! O Scotia ! my dear, my native soil! HongFor maywhom thy my hardy warmest sons wishof rustic to Heaven toil, is sent!! Be blesttent! with health, and peace,' and. sweet. conij And,From O !Luxury’s may Heaven contagion, their simpleweak and lives vile prevent 1 Then,A virtuous howe’er populace crowns andmay coronets rise the bewhile, rent, And standIsle. a wall of fire around their much-lov’dl O Thou ! who pour’d the patriotic tide. WhoThat dat’d stream’d to nobly thro’ stem Wallace's tyrannic undaunted pride. heart; (TheOr patriot’snobly die, God the peculiarlysecond glorious thou part,art, O Hisnever, friend, never, inspirer, Scotia's guardian, realm desert; and reward !) J In Butbright still succession the Patriot raise, and her the ornament Patriot and Bard, guard ! BURNS* poems. 129 MAN WAS MADE TO MOURN, A DIRGE. WhenMade chillfields November’s and forests surlybare, blast j OneAlong evening, the banksas I wander’d of Ayr, forth t/ I spy’dSeem’d a man,weary, whose worn aged with stepcare; •f HisAnd face hoary was furrow’dwas his hair.o’er with years, , YoungBegan stranger, the reverend whither Sage wanderest ; thou ? 5 DoesOr thirstyouthful of wealthpleasure’s thy ragestep constrain,? I* OrToo haply, soon prest thou with hast cares began and woes, |f ToThe wander miseries forth, of with man me,! to mourn ^ TheOut-spreading sun that overhangs far and yon wide, moors, WhereA haughty hundreds lordling’s labour prideto support ; Si I’veTwice seen fortyyon weary times wmter-sunreturn ; S AndThat every Man time was has made added to mourn.proofs, O Man ! while in thy early years. ; Mis-spendingHow prodigal all of thy time precious ! hours, { AlternateThy glorious follies youthfultake the primesway ; 1 WhichLicentious tenfold passions force give burn Nature’s ; law, ; That Man was madeF to2 mourn. 130 burns’ poems. LookOr manhood’snot alone on active youthful might; prime. ManSupported then is usefulis his right:to his kind. ButWith see himcares on and the sorrows edge of worn, life, ThenShew age Man and waswant, made oh !to ill-match’d mourn. pair A Infew Pleasure’s seem favourites lap carest; of Fate, YetAre think likewise not all truly the blest.Rich and Great ButAre oh wretched! what crowds and forlorn! in ev’ry land, Thro’That weary Man lifewas this made lesson to mourn. learn, ManyInwoven and sharpwith ourthe framenum’rous ! ills MoreRegret, pointed remorse, still we and make shame ourselves, ! AndThe Man, smiles whose of love heav’n-erected adorn, face Man’sMakes inhumanity countless tothousands Man, mount. SeeSo yonder abject, poor mean, o’erlabour’d and vile, wight, WhoTo begsgive hinta brother leave ofto thetoil; earth AndThe see poor his lordlypetition felloie-zcorm spurn, Unmindful,And helpless though offspring, a weeping mourn. wife, If ByI’m Nature’s yon haughty law design’d, lordling’s slave, WhyE’er was planted an independent in my mind wish ? If Hisnot, cruelty,why am or I scornsubject ? to burns’ poems. 131 i OrTo why make has hisman fellow the will mourn and ?pow’r ! Yet,Disturb let not thy this youthful too much, breast: my Son, * ThisIs surelypartial notview the of last. human kind |I TheHad poor, never oppressed, sure been honest born, man, *i HadTo there comfort not thosebeen somethat mourn. recompense ■i O,The Death kindest ! the andpoor the man’s best! dearest friend, / WAre elcome laid the with hour thee my at agedrest. limbs TheFrom Great, pomp the and Wealthy, pleasure fear torn! thy blow. I ButThat oh !weary-laden a blest relief mourn! to those A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. O OfThou all myunknown, hope and Almighty fear, Cause, In Perhapswhose dread I m^t Presence, appear ere! an hour, If OfI have life Iwander’d ought to in shun; those paths AsRemonstrates something loudly I have in done;my breast ThouWith know’st passions that wild Thou and hast strong; formed me, AndHas list’ning often led to metheir wrong. witching voice 132 burns’ poems. WhereOr frailti/ human stept weakness aside, has come short. DoIn Thou, shades All-Good of darkness ! for hide. such Thou art. WhereNo other with pleaintention I have, I have err’d. But—ThouDelighteth art to Good;forgive. and Goodness still STANZAS ON THE SAME OCCASION. Why am I loath to leave this earthly scene ?3 SomeHave drops I so of found joy, withit full draughts of pleasing of ill charms between s Is Someit departing gleams ofpangs sunshine my soul hnid alarms renewing ? storms: ForOr guilt, Death’s for guilt,unlovely, my dreary,terrors aredark in abodearms ;? AndI tremble justly to smart approach beneath an hisangry sin-avehging God, rod. Fain would I say, * Forgive my foul, offence 1’ But,Fain should promise my neverAuthor more health to disobey again dispense. ; AgainAgain in IFolly’s might pathdesert might fair Virtue’sgo astray way ! } ThenAgain how exalt should the Ibrute, for Heavenly and sink mercy the man pray, ; Who actsin so counteroft have Heavenlymourn’d mercy’syet to tempta. plan ? O Thou Great Governor of all below ! ThyIf nodI may can dare make a liftedthe tempest eye to Thee,cease to blow. WithOr stillthat thecontrolling tumult ofpow’r the ragingassist e’ensea: me, burns’ poems. 13S ForThose all unfit headlong I feel furiousmy pow’rs passions to be, to confine ; OTo aid rule me their with torrent thy help in Omnipotenceth’ allowed line; Divine l VERSES LEFT ATAUTHOR A FRIEND’S SLEPT HOUSE, ONE NIGHT. WHERE THE O IThou know dreadthou wiltPow’r, me hear;who reign’st above, WhenI make for mythis pray’rscene ofsincere. peace and love, TheLong, hoary long sire—the be pleas’d mortal to sparestroke, 1 ToAnd bless show his littlewhat filialgood flock,men are. She,With who tender her lovely hopes offspring and fears, eyes O Butbless spare her witha mother’s a mother’s tears joys, ! TheirIn manhood’s hope, their dawning stay, their blush; darling youth, BlessUp him,to a parent’sThou God wish of ! love and truth, TheWith beauteous earnest seraph tears Isister-band, pray, ThouGuide know’st Thou thetheir snares steps on alway every ! hand, WhenO’er soonlife’s or rough late theyocean reach driven, that coast. MayA familythey rejoice, in Heaven no wand’rer ! lost, 131 burns’ poems. TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, OK TURNINGPLOUGH, ONE IN APRIL,DOWN 178G.WITH THE Wee,Thou’s modest,met me crimson-tipped,in an evil hour; flower, For I maun crushThy amang slender the stem:stoure To spare thee nowThou is past bonnie my gempower, 1 AlasThe bonnie! its no Lark, thy neebour companion sweet, meet! Bending thee ’mangWi’ thespreckl’d dewy weet,breast. When upward-springing,The purpling blythe, east. to greet UponOauld thyblew early, the bitter-biting humble birth North ; Yet cheerfully thouAmid glinted the storm, forth Scarce rear’d aboveThy the tender parent form. earth TheHigh flaunting shelt’ring flowers woods our and gardens wa’s maun yield, shield But thou, beneathO’ theclod random or stane. bield Adorns the histieUnseen, stibble field. alane.' There,Thy snawie in thy bosom scantie sun-ward mantle clad.spread. Thou lifts thy unassumingIn humble headguise: But now the shareAn’ uptears low thou thy lies!bed. burns’ poems. 135 SuchtSweety/osti’ret is the fate of of the artless rural Maid, shade, liy love’s simplicityAnd betray’d, guileless trust. Till she, like thee,Low all i’ soil’d, the dust. is laid SuchOn life’s is the rough fate oceanof simple luckless Bard, start’d ! Unskilful he to noteOf prudent the card Love, Till billows rage,And and whelmgales blow him hard.o’er ! WhoSuch fatelong to with suffering wants andWorth woes is hasgiven, striven, By human pride Toor cunningmisery’s driven,brink, ’Till wrench’d ofHe, every ruin’d, stay butsink Heaven, I Ev’nThat fatethou iswho thine—no mourn’st distant the Daisy’s date ; fate, Stern Ruin’s ploughshareLull on thy drives bloom, elate, ’TUI crush’d beneathShall thebe thyfurrow’s doom. weight, TO RUIN. AtAi.1. whose hail, destruction-breathinginexorable Lord ! word, ThyThe cruel, mightiest wo-delighted empires train,fall, TheA ministerssullen welcome, of grief all! and pain, With1 see stern-resolv’d, each aimed dart; despairing eye, 136 BURNS* POEMS. ForAnd one quivers has cut in my my dearest heart. tic. ThenThe low’ring, storm no and more pouring, I dread ; Tho’Round thickening, my devoted and head.blackening, AndWhile thou, life grima pleasure power, can by afford, life abhorr'd, IS'oOh more ! hear I shrink a wretch’s appall’d, prayer afraid ! ; I court,To close I beg this thy scene friendly of care! aid, WhenResign shall life’s my joyless soul, in day silent ; peace. MyCold weary mouldering heart its throbbingsin the clay cease,? ■NoTo fear stain more, my nolifeless tear more.face ; Enclasped,Within thy and cold grasped embrace! TO MISS LOGAN, WITH Beattie’sGIFT, JANUARY poems, as1, 1787.a new year's AgainTheir theannual silent round wheels have of time.driven, AndAre you, so muchthough nearer scarce Heaven. in maiden prime, NoThe gifts infant have yearI from to hail;Indian coasts I sendIn Edwin's you more simple than tale.India boasts, OurIs sexcharg’d, with guileperhaps, and toofaithless true; love ButAn my, Edwin dear stillmaid, to eachyou Ilover provg burns’ poems. 137 EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND. May 1786. I langA something hae thought, to have my sent youthfu’ you, friend, Tho’Than it shouldjust a kindserve mementonae other ; end, ButLet how time the and subject chance theme determine; may gang, PerhapsPerhaps, it may turn turn out outa sermon. a sang, Ye’ll.And, try Andrcxe the world dear, soon, believe my lad, me. Ye’llAnd find muckle mankind they anmay unco grieve squad. ye: ForEven care whenand trouble your end’s set your attained thought. ; AndWhere a’ your every views nerve may is comestrained. to nought, I’llThe no sayreal, men harden’d are villains wicked, a’: WhaAre hae to anae few check restricted: but human law, But,An’ och little ! mankind to be trusted; are unco weak. If Itsiclfthe rarely wavering right adjusted! balance shake, YetTheir they fatewha we fa’ should in fortune’s na censure, strife, ForThey still equallyth’ important may answer end o’ : life. \ Tho’man maypoortith hae hourlyan honest stare heart, him ; A Yetman hae may nae tak cash a neebour’s to spare part.him. 138 burns’ poems. AyWhen free, affwi’ han’ a bosom your cronystory ;tell, ButYe still scarcely keep somethingtell to ony. to yoursel ConcealFrae criticalyoursel dissection as weel’s ;ye can ButWi’ keek sharpen’d thro’ every sly inspection.other man, TheLuxuriantly sacred lowe indulge o’ weel-plac’d it; love. ButTho’ never naething tempt th’should illicit divulge rove, it: I waveThe hazardthe quantum of concealing o’ the sin,; ButAnd och petrifies ! it hardens the feeling. a’ within, ToAssiduous catch dame wait Fortune’s upon her golden ; smile, AndThat’s gather justify’d gear by by every honour wile. ; NotNor for for to ahide train-attendant; it in a hedge. ButOf for being the gloriousindependent. privilege TheTo fear baud o’ thehell’s wretch a hangman’s in order; whip ButLet where that yeay feelbe your your border: honour grip. ItsDebar slightest a’ sidetouches, pretences instant ; pause— AndUncaring resolutely consequences. keep its laws, TheMust great sure Creator become to therevere, creature ; ButAnd still ev’n the diepreaching rigid feature; cant forbear. YetBe ne’er complaisance with Wits extended; profane to range. burns’ poems. 139 AnFor Athiest’s Deity offendedlaugh’s a! poor exchange WhenReligion ranting may round he blinded; in Pleasure's ring, OrIt if may she giebe littlea random minded sting. ; ButA whenconscience on life but we’re a canker— tempest-driv’n, A Iscorrespondence sure a noble fix’danchor wi’ ! Heav’n, Adieu,Your dear,heart amiablecan ne’er youth be wanting ! : MayErect Prudence, your brow Fortitude, undaunting and !Truth, In.Still ploughman daily to phrase,grow wiser “ God ; send you speed,” AndThan may ever ye betterdid th’ reck adviser. the rcdc. OX A SCOTCH BARD, GOVE TO THE WEST INDIES. A’A' ye whawha livelive byby crambosoups o’ clink, drink, A’ ye wha live andCome, never mournthink. wi' me ! Our billie's gien usAn’ a’ aowre jink, the sea. WhaLament dearly him likea’ ye a rantinrandom-splore core, ; Nae mair he’ll joinIn the social merry key roar. ; For now he’s taen anitherAnd owre shore, the sea. TheAnd bonnyin their lasses dear weelpetitions may placewiss him.him ; 140 burns’ poems. The widows, wives,Wi’ and tearfu’ a’ may ee; bless him, For weel I wat they’llThat’s sairly owre miss the him sea ! HadstO Fortune, thou taenthey affhae some room drousy to grumble! bummle, Wha can do nought’Twad but fyke been and nae fumble, plea j But he was gleg as That’sony wumble. owre the sea ! AndAuld, stain cantie them Kyh, wi’ manythe saut, weepers saut tear;wear. ’Twill mak her poorIn auld flinders heart, flee; I fear, He was her LaureatThat’s mony owre a year, the sea! HeLang saw mustering Misfortune’s up a cauldbitter nor'-westblast; A jillet brak his heart111 mayat last, she be ! So, took a birth aforeAnd the owre mast. the sea! OnTo tremblescarce a underbellyfu’ Fortune's o’ drummock, cummock, Wi’ his proud independantCould ill stomach,agree; So, row’t his hurdiesAnd in owrea hammock. the sea. YetHe ne’ercoin hiswas pouches gien to greatwadna misguiding,, bide in; Wi’ him it ne’er wasHe under dealt ithiding free: ; The Muse was a’ thatThat’s he tookowre pridethe sea. in, AndJamaica hap bodies,him in usea cozie him biel;weel, burns’ poems. 14.1 Ye'll find him ay aAnd dainty fu’ chiel,o’ glee ! He wadna wrang theThat’s vera deil.owre the sea. YourFareweel, native my soil rhy was me-composing right ill-willie billie ; ! But may ye flourishNow like bonniliea lily. ; I’ll toast ye in my hindmostTho’ owre gillie, the sea. TO A HAGGIS. GreatFair fa’chiefdan your honesto’ the sonsiepuddin-race; face, A boon them a’ ye takPainch, your tripe,place, or thairm; Weel are ye wordyAs of alang’s grace my arm. TheYour groaning hurdles liketrencher a distant there hill, ye fill, Your pin wad help Into timemend o’ a need,mill While thro’ your poresLike theamber dews bead. distil AndHis knife cut you see uprustic wi’ labourready slight,dight, Trenching your gushingLike onyentrails ditch; bright, And then, O what Warm-reekinga glorious sight, rich ; DeilThen tak horn the for hindmost, horn they on stretch they drive, and strive, Till a’ their weel-swall’dAre bent kites, like belyve, drums; 142 BUHNS* POEMS. Then auld gudeman,Bethankit maist like hums. to rive, IsOr thereolio thatthat wadowre staw his Frencha sow, ragout. Orfricascc Wi’wad makperfect her sconner. spew Looks down wi’ sneering,On sic ascornfu’ dinner! view, AsPoor feckless devil! assee a himwither’d owre rash, his trash, His spindle-shankHis a guidnieve whip-lash. a nit; Thro’ bloody floodO howor field unfit! to dash, TheBut marktrembling the rustic, earth resoundshaggis fed. his tread, Clap in his walieHe’ll nieve mak a blade, it whissle; An’ legs, an’ arms,Like an’ taps heads o’ thrissle. will sned. AndYe powers dish them wha outmak their mankind bill o’ your fare, care. Auld Scotland wantsThat nae jaups skinking in luggies; ware But, if ye wish herGie gratefu’ her a Haggis prayer, ! A DEDICATION TO GAVIN HAMILTON, ESQ. AExpect fleechin, na, fleth’iin Sir, in dedication,this narration, AndTo roose sprung you o’ up, great and and ca’ nobleyou guid. bluid. BecausePerhaps ye’rerelated sirnam’d to the race; like his Grace, burns’ poems. 143 Wi’Then mony when a I’mfulsome tir’d sinfu’and lie, sae are ye, SetFor upfear a yourface, modestyhow I stop be short.hurt. MaunThis please may do—maunthe great fockdo, Sir,for awi’ wamefou them wha ; For,For meLord ! sae be laighthankit! I needna I can bow, plough } AndThen, when Lord I bedowna thankit! yoke /a naig,can beg ; SaeIt’s justI shall sic say,Poet, and and that’s sic Patron.nae flatterin, OrThe else, Poet, I fear some some guid ill aneangel skelp help him him ; ! ButHe may only do he’s weel no forjust a’ begun he’s done yet. yet, I winnaThe Patron lie, come (Sir, what ye maunwill o’ forgie me), me, OnHe’s ev’ry just—nae hand itbetter will thanallow’d he be,should be. HeI downareadily see and a freelypoor man grant, want; WhatWhat’s ance no hishe saysain he he winna winna tak break it. it { OughtTill aft he his can gijidness lend he’ll is abus’d no refus’t, ; AndEv’n rascalsthat, he whyles does nathat mind do himit lang: wrang, HeAs master,dbes na landlord,fail his part husband, in either. father, NaeBut godly then, symptom nae thanks ye canto him ca’ forthat; a’ that; OfIt’s our naething poor sinfu’ but a corruptmilder feature.nature: Ye’ll’.Mang get black the bestGentoos of moral and paganworks, Turks, WhaOr hunters never wildheard on of Ponotaxi, orthodoxy. TheThat gentleman he’s the poor in word man’s and friend deed, in need, 144 burns’ poems. It’s no thro’ terror of d-mn-ti-n ; It'sMorality, just a carnal thou inclination.deadly bane, VamThy tensis his o’ hope,thousands whose thou stay hast and slaintrust t is In No—stretchmortal mercy, a point truth, to and catch justice a plaek ! ; AbuseSteal thro’ a brother a -u innock to his frae back; a wh-re. BeBut to point the poorthe rake like thatony takswhunstane; the door ; AndPly ev’rybaud arttheir o’ noseslegal thieving;to the grunstane; NoBearn matter, three stick mile-pray’rs, to sound believing. and half-mile graces, Wi’Grunt weel-spread upon a solemn looves, lenthen’d and lang groan, wry faces; AndI’ll warrant damn a’ then, parties ye’re but nae your deceiver, own ; A Osteady, ye wha sturdy, leave staunchthe springs believer. o’ Calvin, YeFor sonsgumlie of heresydubs o’ and your error, ain delvin! Ye’llWhen some vengeance day squeel draws in the quaking sword terrorin wrath. ! AndWhen in Ruin,the fire with throws his sweepingthe sheath besom. ; JustWhile frets o’er ’till the Heav’n harp pale commission Mis’ry moans, gies him : StillAnd louderstrikes shrieks,the ever-deep’ning the heavier tones.groans 1 I maistYour forgatpardon, my Sir, dedication; for this digression, ButMy readerswhen divinity still are comes sure tocross lose me, me. ButSo, I Sir,maturely ye see thought ’twas nae it proper,daft vapour; WhenTo dedicate a’ my them, works Sir, I did to review,You ; burns’ poems. 145 Because (ye needna tak it ill) I thoughtThen patronize them something them wi’ like your yoursel. favour, AndI had your amaist petitioner said, ever shall pray. for ever ForBut prayingthat’s a word1 hae Ilittle needna skill say o’t; : ButI’m baithI’se repeat dead-sweer, each poor and man’s wretched pray'r. ill o’t; That“ May kens ne’er or hears Misfortune’s about you, growling Sir—■— bark HowlMay ne’erthro’ histhe gen’rous dwelling honest o’ the heart,Clerk ! ForMay that Kennedy’s same gen’rous far-honour’d spirit smart!name LangTill Hamiltons, beet his hymeneal at least aflame. dizzen, * FiveAre fraebonny their lasses nuptial round labours their table,risen : i AndTo serve seven their braw king fallows, and country stout and weel, able 1 By word, or pen, or pointed steel ! j MayShine health on the and ev’ning peace, o’ wi’his mutualdays ; rays, TillWhen his ebbing wee curlie life naeJohn's mair ier-oe, shall flow, TheI willlast, not sad, wind mournful a lang ritesconclusion, bestow !” 1 Wi’ complimentary effusion ; AreBut whilstblest wi’ your fortune’s wishes smilesand endeavours and favours, ;^ YourI am, muchdear Sir, indebted, with zeal humble most servant.fervent, tj ThatBut iron-hearted if (which Pow’rs carl, Want,above prevent!) jI AttendedBy sad mistakes, in his grim and advances,black mischances. ; WhileMake youhopes, as poorand joys,a dog and as Ipleasures am, fly him, 146 burns’ poems. ForYour who humble would servant humbly then serve no themore; poor! "WhileJSut, for recollection’s a poor man’s pow’r hopes is ingiven, Heaven ! TheIf, in victim the vale sad of of humble fortune’s life. strife, Should1, through recognise the tender my mastergushing dear. tear. IfThen, friendless, Sir, your low, hand—my we met thegither, friend and brother ! , TO A LOUSE, ON SEEING ONE ONCHURCH. A I-ADY’S BONNET AT YourHa ! impudencewhare ye gaun, protects ye crawlinyou sairly ferlie! : I canna say but yeOwre strunt gauze rarely, and lace ; Tho’ faith, I fearOn ye sic dine a place.but sparely Detested,Ye ugly, creep!r,shun’d byblastit saunt wonner, an’ sinner, How dare you setSae your fine fit a uponlady !her, Oae somewhere elseOn andsome seek poor your body. dinner ThereSwith, yein maysome creep, beggar’s and haft'et sprawl, squattle and gprattle, ! Wi’ ither kindredIn jumping shoals and cattle, nations ; \Vhare horn nor Yourbane ne’erthick dareplantations. unsettle , jt ,‘ BelowNow baud the fatt’rils,you there, snug ye're and out tight; o’ sight. burns’ poems. 147 Na, faith ye yet!Till ye'll ye’ve no begot right on it. The vera tapmost,O’ tow’ring Miss's Bonnet!height, AsMy plumpsooth ! andright gray bauld as ony ye setgrozet; your nose out, O for some rank Ormercurial fell, red rozet, smeddum, I’d gie you sic a Wadhearty dress doze your o’t, droddum ! ' IYou wadna on anbeen auld surpris’d wife’s flannen to spy toy ; i Or aiblins some bitOn’s duddie wyliecoat; boy. ; But Miss’s fine LunardiHow dare ! youfie, do’t! ■i AndO, Jenny set your dinna beauties toss your a’ abread head, 1 ■ Ye little ken whatThe cursed blastie’s speed makin ! I Thae winks finger-ends,Are notice taking I dread, ! I! OTo wad sec someourselves pow’r as theothers giftie sec gie us us,! [ It wad frae monyAnd a blunder foolish freenotion us : “ What airs in dressAnd and ev’n gait Devotion. wad lea’c us, ADDRESS TO EDINBURGH. EdinaAll hail ! Scotia's thy palaces darling and seat! tow’rs. WhereSat legislation’s once beneath sov’rfcign a monarch’s pow’rs! feet 148 burns’ poems. FromAs onmarking the banks wildly-scatter’d of Ayr I stray’d, flow'rs. AndI shelter singing, in lone,thy honour'd the ling’ring shade. hours, HereAs wealthbusy trade still hisswells labours the golden plies; tide, ThereBids architecture’s elegance and noblesplendour pride rise ; HereHigh justice, wields from her balanceher native and skies, her rod ; There,Seeks learning, science in with her hiscoy eagle abode. eyes, ThyWith sons, open Edina, arms thesocial, stranger kind, hail; TheirAbove views the enlarg’d, narrow rural with valelib’ral ; mind, AttentiveOr modest still merit’s to sorrow’s silent wail, claim ; AndAnd never never may envy their blot sources their name!fail! ThyBay daughters as the gilded bright summer thy walks sky, adorn ! SweetDear as as the the dewy raptur’d milk-white thrill of thorn, joy ! FairHeav’n’s Burnet beauties strikes th’on myadorning fancy eye,shine; I seeAnd the own sire his of work love onindeed high, divine. There,Thy roughwatching rude high fortress the least gleams alarms, afar; LikeAnd some mark’d bold withvet’ran, many gray a seamy in arms, scar: TheGrim-rising pond’rous o’erwall the and rugged massy rock.bar, HaveAnd oft oft withstood repell’d theassailing invader’s war, shock. burns’ poems. 149 WithI view awe-struck that noble, thought stately and dome. pitying tears, WhereFam’d Scotia's heroes, kings had theirof other royal years, home: Alas,Their how royal chang’d name the Low times in the to dust!come ! TheirTho’ hapless rigid laws race crieswild-wand’ring out, ’twas just!roam ! ! WildWhose beats ancestors, my heart in to days trace of your yore, steps, I Thro’Old hostileScotia's ranks bloody and lion ruin’d bore: gaps Ev’nHaply / who my sing sires in have rustic left lore, their shed, AndBold-following fac’d grim danger’s where your loudest fathers roar. led ! Ediva ! Scotia's darling seat! WhereAll hail once thy beneath palaces a andmonarch’s tow’rs, feet FromSat legislation’smarking wildly-scatter’d sov’reign pow’rs flow’rs, ! ; As on the banks of Ayr I stray’d, AndI sheltered singing, inlone, thy the honour’d ling’ring shade. hours, EPISTLE TO J. LAPRAIK, AN OLD SCOTTISH BARD. April lit, 1785. AndWhile paitricks briers scraichin and woodbines loud at budding e’en, green. And mornin pussie Inspirewhidden my seen, muse, This freedom in anI unknown pray excuse. frien’ 150 burns’ poems. OnTo ca’Fasten-een the crack, we and had weave a rockin. our stockin; And there was muckleYe neednafun and doubt; jokin, At length w e had aAt hearty sang yokin, about. AboonThere wasthem ae a’ sang it pleas’d amang me the best. rest, That some kind husbandTo some had sweet addrest wife: It thirl’d the heart-stringsA’ to the thro’ lift. the breast, WhatI’ve scarce gen’rous heard manly ought bosoms describ’d feel; sae weel. Thought I, ‘ Can thisOr beBeattie’s Pope, warkor Steele, !’ They laid me ’twasAbout an odd Muirklrk. kind duel AndIt pat sae me about fidgin him fain there to hear’t. I spier’t, Then a’ that ken’tHe him had round inglnc, declar’t That nane excell’d Itit, wasfew saecam line. near’t, AndThat, either set him douce to aor pint merry o’ ale. tale. Or rhymes and sangsOr he’dwitty made catches, himsel, ’Tween Inverness andHe hadTiviotdale, few matches. Tho’Then upI should I gat, pawnand swore my pleugh an aith and graith. Or die a cadger pownie’sAt some death, dyke-back, A pint and gill I’d togie hear them your baith crack. burns' poems. 151 AmaistBut, first as andsoon foremost, as I could I shouldspell, tell, I to the crambo-jingleTho’ fell, rude and rough, ! Yet crooning to a body’sDoes weelsel. eneugh. .i IBut am just nae apoet, rhymer, in a like,sense, by chance, And hae to learningYet, nae what pretence, the matter, i Whene’er my MuseI jingledoes on at me her. glance, AndYour say,critic-fock ‘ How maycan you cock e’er their propose, nose, You wha ken hardlyTo verse mak traea sung prose. V But, by your leave,Ye’re my learned maybe foes,wrang. YourWhat’s Latin a* your names jargon for hornso’ your and schools, stools, If honest Nature madeWhat you sairs fools. your grammars ? Ye’d better taen upOr spades knappin-hammers. and shools, AConfuse set o’ theirdull conceitedbrains in hashes,College classes ! They gang in stirks,Plain and truthcome toout speak asses. ; * And syne they thinkBy to dint climb o’ Greek.Parnassus GieThat’s me a’ae thespark learning o’ Nature’s I desire; fire, Then tho’ I drudgeAt thro’ pleugh dub orand cart, mire My Muse, tho’ hamelyMay intouch attire, the heart. 152 burns’ poems, < )r5 r'or / '( argusson's spunk o’ the Allan's bauld glee, and slee, Or bright Lapraik's,If Imy can friend hit it; to be, That would be learIf eneugh I could for get me. it. * Tho’Now, realSir, friends,if ye hae I friendsbelieve, enow, are few, Vet if your catalogueI’se be no fu’ insist, But gif you want aeI’m friend on yourthat’s list. true, AsI winna ill I likeblaw my about fauts mysel; to tell; But friends, and fockThey that sometimes wish me well,roose me Tho’ I maun own, Asas moniefar abuse still me. IThere’s like the ae lasses—Gude vreefaut they forgie whiles me lay ! to me, For mony a plack theyAt dance wheedle or fair;frae me, Maybe some ither thingThey weelthey giecan mespare. ButI should Mauchline be proud race, to meetor Mauchline you there; fair, We’se gie ae night’sIf dischargewe forgather, to care, And hae a swap o’ Wi’rhymin-tcare ane anither. AndThe four-gillkirsen him chap, wi’ we’sereekin gar water him ; clatter. Syne we’ll sit downTo and cheer tak our heart;whiner, An’ faith, we’se be Beforeacquainted we part. better, burns’ poems. 153 Awb,Wha thinkye selfish that warlyhavins, race, sense, and grace, Ev’n love and friendship,To catch-the-plack should give placa! I dinna like to see your.Nor hearface, your crack. WhoseBut ye whomhearts socialthe tide pleasure of kindness charms, warms, Who hold your being‘ Each on the aid terms, the others,’ Come to my bowl, Mycome friends, to my arms,my brothers! AsBut, my to auldconclude pen’s my worn lang to epistle.the grissle; Twa lines frae you Whowad garam, me most fissle, fervent. While I can either Yoursing, friendor whissle, and servant. TO THE SAME. April 21, 1785. AndWhile pownies new-ca’d reek inkye pleugh rowte orat braik.the stake, This hour on e’enin’sTo edgeown I’mI take. debtor, To honest-hearted auldFor hisLapraik, kind letter. Forjeskit sair, wi’ weary legs, OrRattlih dealin the through corn put-owre amang the naigsrigs. My awkward• MuseTheir sair pleads ten hours and bite,begs, X wadnaG 2 write, 154 BURN'S* POEM'S. She’sThe tapetless saft at best, ramfeezl’d and something hizzy, lazy, Quo’ she, “• Ye ken,This we’ve month been and sae inair. bizzfe That, trouth, my headAnd issomething grown right sair.” diza*e. Her dowff excuses pat me mad: I’ll“ Conscience,” write, and thatsays a I,hearty “ Ye blaud,thowless jade i Sae dinna ye affrontThis your vera trade, night; But rhyme it right.r Though“ Shall bauldmankind Lapraik, were athe pack king o’ ocartes, heart. Boose you sae weelIn for terms your saedeserts, friendly, Yet ye’ll neglect toAnd shew thank your himparts, kindly I’* AndSae I down gat paper gaed instumpic a blink, P the ink t Qouth I, “ before II sleepvow I’lla wink, close it; And, if ye winna makeBy Jove it clink, I’ll prose it l’* InSae rhyme I’ve begun or prose, to- scrawl, or baith but thegither, whether Or some hotch-potchBet that’s time rightlymak proof; neither, But I shall scribbleJust down clean some aft-loo blether f. MyThough worthy fortune friend, use ne’er you grudgehard and and sharp; carp. Come, kittle up yourWP nutirlmtd' gleesome harp touch f Ne’er mind how fortuneShe’s waftbut a and b-tch. warp f burns’ poems. 155 tiin’She’s I giencould me striddle mony aowre jirt aand rig fleg,; But, by the L—d, Wi’though lyart I shouldpow, beg I’ll laugh, and sing,As and lang’s shake I dowmy !leg, I’veNow seencames the the bud sax upo’ and the twentieth timmer, simmer, i Still persecuted by Fraethe limmer year to year ; • But yet, despite the/, kittle Jiob, kimmer,am hero. BehintDo ye envya kist the to citylie and sklent. Or purse-proud, bigAnd wi’ mucklecent, per wame, cent. In some bit brugh Ato representBailie's name ? OrM'i’ Is’t ruffled the paughtysark and feudal glancin Thane, cane, Wha thinks himselBut nae lordlysheep-shank stalks, bane, While caps and bannetsAs by aff he are walks. ta’en, Gie“ O meThou o’ witwha and gies sense us each a lift, gude gift, j Then turn me, if ThouThrough please, Scotland adrift, wide; ( Wi’ cits nor lairds InI wadna a’ their shift. pride.” Were“ On painthis theo’ hell charter be rich of ourand state. great,” Damnation then wouldBeyond be ourremead; fate, But, thanks to Heav’nWe learn! that’s our no creed. the gate *56 burns’ poems. ForWhen thus first the the royal human mandate race began,ran. “ The social, friendly,Whate’er honest he man, be, ’Tis he fulfils greatAnd Nature's none butplan, he !" TheO mandate ragged gloriousfollowers and o’ thedivine Nine, ! Poor thoughtless deevils,In glorious yet may light. shine While sordid sons o’Are Mammon’s dark as night. line TheirTho’ hereworthless they scrape,nievefu’ and of asqueeze, soul and growl, May in some futureThe carcase forest’s howl, fright; Or in some day-detestingMay shun owl the light. ThenTo reach may their Lapraik native, and kindred Burns skies. arise, And sing their pleasures,In some hopes, mild sphere,and joys, Still closer knit in friendship’sEach passing ties, year. TO WILLIAM SIMPSON, OCHILTREE. May 1783 IWi’ gat gratefu’ your letter, heart, winsome I thank Willie;you brawlie; Though I maun say’t,And Iunco wad vain.be silly, Should I believe, myYour coaxin fiatterin billie, strain. burns’ poems. 157 ButI sud I’se be laithbelieve to yethink kindly ye hintedmeant it, Ironic satire, sidelinsOn sklented my poor Music; Though in sic phrasinI scarce terms excuse ye’ve ye.penn’d it, ShouldMy senses I but wad daur be ina hope a creel, to sped, Wi’ Allan, or wi’ Gilberfiel'The braes o’ fame; Or Fcrgusson, the Awriter deathless chid, name. (O111 suitedFergnsson law’s ! drythy musty glorious arts; parts My curse upon yourYe whunstane Enbrugh gentry!hearts. The tythe o’ what yeWad waste stow’d at cartes his pantry.) YetOr lasses when giea tale my comes heart i’a screed,my head. As whiles they’re like(O tosad be disease my dead, !) I kittle up my rusticIt giesreed. me ease. AuldShe’s gottenCoila now poets may o’ herfidge ain, fu’ fain. ’ Chiels wha their chantersBut tune winna their hain. lays. Till echoes a’ resoundHer again wed-sung praise. NaeTo set poet her thought name in her measur’d worth his style; while. She lay like some unkend-of-isleBeside Nerc Jlollau', Or whar wild-meetingBesouth oceans Magellan. boil 158 burns’ poems. GiedRamsay Forth and and famous Tay Fergusson,a lift aboon; Yarrow and Tweed,Owre to mony Scotland a tune, rings, While Irwin, Ltigar,Naebody Ayr, sings.and Dovn, GlideTh’ Illissus, sweet in Tiber, mony Thames,a tunefu’ and line Siene, ; But, Willie, set yourAnd fit cock to mine, your crest. We'll gar our streamsUp wi’and theburnies best. shine HerWe’ll muirs sing red-brownauld Coila's wi’ plains heather and bells, fells. Her banks and braes,Whare her densglorious and dells,Wallace Aft bure the gree, asI'rae story southron tells, billies. AtBut Wallace'boils up inname, a spring-tide what Scottish Hood; blood Oft hae our fearlessBy fathers Wallace' strode side, Still pressing onward,Or gloriousred-wat shod.died. OWhen sweet lintwhites are Coila's chant haughs amang and the woods. buds, And jinkin hares, inTheir amorous loves whids,enjoy, While through the Wi’braes wailfu’ the cushat cry. croods WhenEv’n Winter winds ravebleak through has charms the naked to me, tree; Or frosts on hills ofAre Ochiltree hoary gray; Or blinding drifts wild-furiousHark’ning the flee, day! burns’ POEMS. 159 ToO Xahrrc feeling,' ! pensivea’ thy shewshearts andhae forms,charms ? \rhether the SummerWi’ kindly life and warms light, Or Winter howls, inThe gusty lang storms, dark night. TillThe byMuse, himseP nae hePoet learn’d ever fandto wander, her, Adown some trottinAnd burn’s no thinkmeander. lang ; O sweet, to stray andA heartfeltpensive pondersang. Hog-shouther,The war’ly race jundie, may drudge stretch, and and drive, strive. Let me fair Nature'aAnd face I, descrive,wi’ pleasure, Shall let the bizzy, Bumgrumbling owre theirhive treasure. Fareweel,We’ve been “ myowre rhyme-composing lang unkend to ither: brither,” Now let us lay ourIn headslove fraternal: thegither, May Envy wallopBlack in a fiend,tether, infernal! While HighlandmenMurlian Herds hate like tolls gude and fat taxesbraxies ; ; While Terra Firma,Diurnal on herturns, axis Count on a friend,In inHolcrt faith andBurns. practice. POSTSCRIPT. MyI had memory’s amaist forgotten no worth clean. a preen t 160 burns’ poems. Ye bade me writeBy you this what new-light,* they mean ’Bout which our Maistherds likesae aftto fight.hue been AtIn daysgrammar, when mankindlogic, and were sic talents,but callans They took nae painsOr rules their to speech gie. to balance, But spak their thoughtsLike you in or plain me. braid Lallans, JustIn thae like auld a sark, times, or pairthey o’thought shoon, the moon. Wore by degrees,Gaed till herpast last their roon viewin, And shortly afterThey she wasgat done,a new ane. ItThis ne’er pass’d cam forin certaintheir heads undisputed; to doubt it, Till duels gat upAnd and ca’d wad itconfute wrang; it. And meikle din thereBaith wasloud about and lang.it, SomeWad threapherds, auldweel folklearn’d the upo’ thing the misteuk; beuk, For ’twas the auldAnd moon out turn’do’ sight, a neuk, And backlins-coming,She grew to the mair leuk bright. TheThis herdswas denied, and kissels it was were affirm'd; alarm’d ; The rev’rend gray-beardsThat beardless rav’d laddiesand storm’d, Should think theyThan better their were auld inform’d daddies. 1 See Note, page 06. burns’ forms. 161 Frae l*sswords to andmair aiths it gaed to clours to sticks; and nicks ; And mony a fallowWi’ got hearty his licks, crunt; ■ And some, to learnWere them bang’d for their and tricks,brunt. AndThis avid-lightgame was play’dcaddies in bure mony sic lands.hands. That faith the youngstersWi’ nimble took shanks, the sands ’Till lairds forbade,Sic bluidyby strict pranks. commands, But new-light herds gat sic a cowe, . FolkTill nowthought amaist them on ruin’devery knowe, Stic and stowe, ! Ye’ll find ane plac’d; And some, their Justnew-light quite fairbarefac’d. avow, NaeTheir doubt zealous the herdsauld-light are vex’d flocks and are sweatin; bleatin ; Mysel, I’ve ev’n seenWi’ girningthem greetin spite. To hear the moonBy sae word sadly and lied write. on SomeBut shortly auld-light they herdswill cow in neebourthe lowns towns ! i Are mind’t, in thingsTo tak they a flight, ca’ balloons i And stay ae monthAnd amang see them the moons^right. AndGude when observation the auld they moon's will giegaun them; to lea’e them. The hindmost shaird,Just i’they’ll their pouch,fetch it wi’ them, And when the new-lightI think they’llbillies crouch!see them, 162 burns’ poems. Sae,Is naething ye observe, but athat “moonshine a’ this clatter matter;” But though dull Inprose-folk logic tulzie, Latin splatter I hope we bardiesThan ken somemind bettersic bruilzie. EPISTLE TO JOHN RANKIN, ENCLOSING SOME POEMS. OThe rough, wale o’ rude,cocks ready-witted for fun and drinkinRankin, ! There’s mony godlyYour focks dreams* are thinking and tricks Will send you, Korah-like,Straught to a-sinkin,auld Kick’s. AndYe hae in saeyour mony wicked, cracks drucken and cants. rants. Ye mak a deevil Ando’ the fill saunts, them fu’; And then their failings,Are a’ seenflaws, through. and wants, Hypocrisy,Thy holy robe, in mercy O dinna spare tear it! it! Spar’t for their sakesThe ladswha inaften black; wear it. But your curs’d wit,Rives’t when aft’ ittheir comes back. near it, It’sThink, just wicked the blue-gown sinner, whabadge ye’re and scaithing, claithing O’ saunts; tak that,To ken ye lea’ethem them by, naething Frae ony unregenerateLike you heathen, or I. noise• A incertain the country-side. humorous dream of his was then makin a burns’ poems. 163 A’I’ve that sent 1 youbargain’d here some for andrhyming mair; ware, Sae, when you haeI willan hourexpect to spare, Yon tang:* ye’llAnd sen’t, no wi’neglect. cannie care, ThoughMy Muse faith, dow sma’scarcely heart spread hae Iher to sting!wing ! I've play’d myselAnd a bonnie danc’d spring. my fill; I’d better gane andAt sair’tBunker's the king.Hill. I’Twas gaed aea rovingnight lately,wi’ the in gun, my fun, And brought a paitrickA bonnie to hen,the grun, And as the twilightThought was begun, nane wad ken. IThe straikit poor itwee a weething for was sport, little hurt; Ne’er thinkin theyBut wad deil-ma-care fash me for’t; ! Somebody tells theThe poacher-court hale affair. SomeThat sicauld a henus’d Hadhands got had a shot; ta'en a note, I was suspected forI scorn’d the plot; to lie ; So gat the whissleAnd o’ mypay’t groat, the/ef. AndBut, by my pouthergun, o’ gunsand mythe hail.wale, And by my hen, Iand vow by and her swear, tail, The game shall pay,For this,o’er muirniest andyear. dale, * A song he bad promised the Author. 164 burns’ poems. AndAs soon’s the wee the poutsclockin-time begun to is cry,by, 1>—d, I’se hae sportinFor my by gowd and guinea;by. Though should IFor’t herd inthe Virginia. buckskin kye ’TwasTrowth, neither they hadbroken muckle wing for nor to limb, blame ! But twa-three drapsScarce about through the wame. the feathers; And baith a yellowAnd George thole theirto claim. blethers ; SoIt pitsI can me rhyme ay as normad’s write a hare; nae mair! Hut pennyworthsWhen again time’sare fair. expedient: Meanwhile I am,Your respected most obedient.Sir, WRITTEN IN FRIARS-CARSE HERMITAGE, ON NITH-SIDE. ThouBe thou whom clad inchance russet may weed. hither lead, ’GraveBe thou these deck’d counsels in silken on thystole, soul. SprungLife isfrom but night,a day atin most,darkness lost; FearHope not not clouds sunshine will ev’ry always hour, lour. BeneathAs youth the andmorning love withstar advance,sprightly dance, MayPleasure delude with the her thoughtless siren air pair: burns’ poems. 165 LetThen prudence raptur’d bless sip, andenjoyment’s sip it up. cup, Life’sAs thymeridian day grows flaming warm nigh, and high, DostLife's thou proud spurn summits the humble wouldst vale thou ? scale? EvilsCheck lurk thy climbingin felon wait: step, elate, SoarDangers, around eagle-pinion’d, each cliffy hold, bold, ( ChantsWhile cheerfulthe lowly peace, dells among.with linnet song, 1 As the shades of ev’ning close, Beck’ningAs life itself thee becomes to long disease, repose; SeekThere the ruminate chimney-nook with sober of ease, thought. AndOn all teach thou’st the seen,sportive and younkers heard, and round, wrought; Say,Saws man’sof experience, true, genuine sage andestimate, sound. IsThe not, grand art thoucriterion high of or his low fate, ? Did manythy fortune talents ebb gild or thyflow span ? ! OrTell frugal them, nature and press grudge it on thee their one mind. ? AsThe thou smile thyself or frown must of shortly awful Heav’n,find, Say,To virtue to be orjust, to viceand iskind, giv’n. and wise, ThereThat foolish, solid self selfish, enjoyment faithless lies; ways. LeadThus to theresign’d wretched, and quiet, vile, andcreep base. Sleep,To the whencebed of lastingthou shall sleep ne’er ; awake. Night,Till future where life, dawn future shall no never more, break, 166 burns’ poems. To light and joy unknownthe good restore,before. QuodStranger, the beadsman go ! Heav’n of Nith-side. be thy guide ! ODE, SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. — OF — DwellerHangman of in creation yon dungeon mark ! dark, WhoLaden in with vfidow unhonour’d weeds appears. years, Baite'dNoosing with with many care a deadlybursting curse purse, ? STROPHE. CanView thy thekeen wither’d inspection beldam’s trace face— AughtNote that of humanity’seye, ’tis rheum sweet o’eriiows, melting grace ? SeePity’s those flood hands, there ne’er never stretch’d rose. to save, HandsKeeper thatof Mammon’s took—but ironnever chest, gave. SheI/o, goes,there butshe goes,not to unpitied realms ofand everlasting unblcst rest! Plunderer of armies,ANTISTROPHE. lift thine eyes, Seestf A while thou forbear, whose step,ye tort’ring unwilling fiends,) hither bend* t ’TisNo thy fallen trusty angel, quondam hurl’d mate.from upper skies ; Doom’dShe, tardy, to share hell-ward thy fiery plies. fate. ERODE. AndTen are thousand they qf glitt’ringno more avail, pounds a-year f burns’ poems. 1(57 In Omnipotentother worlds as can he Mammonis here ? fail, O,While bitter mock’rydown the ofwretched the pompous v' lit ELEGY ON CAPT. MATTHEW HENDERSON, O’er hurcheon hides, And like stock-fishWi’ come thy o’erauld his sides studdie ! Where, haply, pityFrae strays man forlorn,exil’d. YeThat hil^s, proudly near cockneebours your o’ cresting the starns. cairns ! Ye cliffs, the hauntsWhere of sailingecho slumbers yearns, I Come join ye, Nature’sMy waUing sturdiest numbers! bairns. ' 168 burns’ poems. YeMourn, hazly ilka shaws grove and the briery cushat dens kens ! ! • Ye burnies, winiplinWi’ downtoddlin your din, glens, Or foaming strang,f'rae wi’ linn hasty to linnstens, ! YeMourn stately little foxgloves harebells fair o’er to thesee; lee; Ye woodbines hangingIn scented bonnilie, bow’rs ; Ye roses on yourThe thorny first tree, of flow’rs. AtDroops dawn, with when a diamond ev’ry grassy at his blade head, At e’en, when beansI’ the their rustling fragrance gale, shed, Ye maukins whiddinCome thro’ join themy glade,wail. YeMourn, grouse ye thatwee crapsongsters the heather o’ the wood;bud; Ye curlews callingYe thro' whistling a clud plover; ; And mourn, ye whirringHe’s gane paitrick for ever brood; ! YeMourn, fisher sooty herons, coots, watching and speckled eels ; teals; Ye duck and drake,Circling wi’ airy the wheels,lake; Ye bitterns, ’till Hairthe quagmire for his sake. reels, Mourn,’Mang fields clam’ring o’ flow’ring craiks atclover close gay; o* day, And when ye wingKrae your our annual canid shore,way Tell thae far warlds,Wham wha we lies deplore. in day, burns’ POEMS. 169 InVe somehowlets, auld frae tree, your or eldritchivy bow’r. tow’r. What time the moon,Sets up wi’ her silent horn, glow’r, Wail thro’ the drearyTill waukrit'e midnight mom! hour 0,Oft rivers,have ye forests, heard hills,my canty and plainsstrains ! : Uut now, what elseBut for tales me ofremains wo ; And frae my eenMaun the drapping ever flow. rains IlkMourn, cowslip spring, cup thoushall darlingkep a tear: of the year ! Thou, simmer, whileShoots each up cornyits head, spear Thy gay, green, Forflow’ry him tresses that’s shear.dead ! Thou,In grief autumn, thy sallow wi’ mantlethy yellow tear hair,! 1 Thou, winter, hurlingThe roaring thro’ the blast, air [ Wide o’er the nakedThe worldworth declarewe’ve lost! 5| MournMourn, him,the empressthou sun, of greatsilent source night! of light! 1 And you, ye twinklingMy Matthew stamies mourn bright, ! 1, For through yourNe’er orbs tohe’s return. ta’en his flight, I AndO Henderson art thou gone,! the andman gone ! the for brother ever !! 6 And hast thou crostLife’s (hat dreary unknown bound river. ! Like thee, where Theshall world I find around! another, 170 BURNS* POEMS. luGo a’to theyour tinsel sculptur’d trash o’ tombs, state ! ye Great, Hut by thy honestThou turf manI’ll wait.of worth! And weep the ae E’erbest layfellow’s in earth. fate THE EPITAPH. Stop,And passengertruth I shall ! my relate, story’s man: brief, 1 tellFor naeMatthew common was tale a great o’ grief. man. If Yetthou spurn’d uncommon at fortune’s merit hast, door, man ; A Forlook Matthew of j»tj hither was a cast, poor man. If Thatthou apasses! noble bysodger this art.grave, man. ThereFor Matthewmoulders washere a a brave gallant man. heart. If Canstthou on throw men, uncommon their works light, and manways, ; HereFor lies Matthew wha weel was had a bright won thyman. praise. If Wadthou atlife friendship’s itself resign, sacred man ca’,; ThyFor sympathetic Matthew was tear a maunkin* man fa*. ! If hikethou anthe staunchunchanging without blue, a manstain, ; ThisFor was Matthew a kinsman was ao’ truethy man.ain, If Andthou ne’erhast wit,glide and wine fun,.and did fear, fife, man ; ThisFor was Matthew thy billie, was dam,a queer and man. sire, burns’ poems. 171 If Toony blame whiggish poor whinging Matthew sot.dare, man ; MayTor dool Matthew and sorrow was a berare his man. lot, LAMENT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING. NowOn Natureevery blooming hangs her tree. mantle green AndOut spreads o’er the her grassy sheets lea o’ :daisies white, NowAnd Phcebus glads thecheers azure the skies; crystal streams, ButThat nought fast canin durance glad the lies. weary wight NowAloft lav’rocks on dewy wake wing the ; merry morn, TheMakes merle, woodland in his noontide echoes ring;bow’r, TheSings mavis drowsy mild, day wi’ tomany rest: a note, In Wi’love careand norfreedom thrall they opprest. rejoice, NowThe blooms primrose the downlily by the the brae back, ; 1 TheAnd hawthorn’s milk-white budding is the inslae the : glen, TheMay meanest rove their hind sweetsin fair amang;Scotland ButMaun I, the lie Queen in prison of a’strang. Scotland, I wasWhere the Queenhappy Io’ hae bonnie been France, ; 172' burns’' poems. Fu’As lightly blythe raise lay downI in the at mom,e’en : AndAnd I’m mony the sovereigna traitor thereof Scotland, ; YetAnd here never-ending I lie in foreign care. bands. ButMy as sisterfor thee, and thoumy fae.false woman, GrimThat vengeance, thro’ thy yet,soul shallshall whetgae : a sword TheAVas weeping never bloodknown in to woman’s thee ; breast NorFrae the woman’sbalm that pitying draps e’ewon wounds of wo MyUpon son !thy my fortune son ! mayshine; kinder stars AndThat may ne’er those wad pleasures blink on gild mine thy ! reign, GodOr keep turn theetheir frae hearts thy tomother’s thee : faes, AndRemember where thou him meet’st for me thy ! mother’s friend, O Nae! soon, mair to lightme, mayup the summer-suns morn ! NaeWave mair, o’er to me,the yellowthe autumn corn ; winds AndLet in winter the narrow round house me rave o’ death; AndBloom the nexton my flowers, peaceful that grave. deck the spring, TO ROBERT GRAHAM, ESQ. OF F1NTKA. AboutLate crippl’dto beg a. panof an forarm, leave and to now beg; a leg, BtmNS* POEMS- 173 Dull, listless, teas’d, dejected, and deprest, (NatureWill generous is adverse Graham to a cripple’slist to his rest;) Poet’s wail ’ [i And(It sooths hear himpoor curseMisery, the hearkeninglight he first to survey’d, her tale,) ;1 And doubly curia; the luckless rhyming trade. ! OfThou, thy caprice Nature, maternal partial INature, complain. I arraign; .* OneThe shakeslion and the the forests, bull thyandonespurnstheground: care have found, I[' ThouTh’ envenom’d giv’st the wasp,ass his victorious, hide, the snailguards his his shell, cell. ^ ThyIn all minions, th’ omnipotence kings defend, of rule control, and power.— devour. l[ TheFoxes cit and and statesmen, polecat stink, subtile and wiles are secure.ensure ; |; ToadsThe priest with and their hedgehog poison, indoctors their robes,with their are drug,snug. |. HerEv’n tongue silly woman and eyes, has her her dreaded warlike spear arts, and darts, |if ToBut, thy ohpoor, ! thou fenceless, bitter nakedstep-mother child—tllSllard and hard, ! Lt AAnd thing half unteachable an idiot too, in more world’s helpless skill, still, j No heelsclaws toto beardig, himhis hated from sightthe opening to shun; dun; j; NoAnd horns, those, but alas those ! not by Amalthea’s luckless Hymen horn : worn, |f NoClad nerves in rich olfact’ry, dulness, Mammon’scomfortable trusty fur. cur, | InHe nakedbears th’feeling, unbroken and in blast aching from pride, ev’ry side: ‘ AndVampyre scorpion booksellers critics curelessdrain him venom to the dart, heart, i! ThoseCritics—appall’d, cut-throat bandits I venture in the on paths the name,of fame: | BloodyHe hacks dissectors, to teach, worsethey manglethan ten to Monros— expose. ByHis blockhead’s heart by causelessdaring into wanton madness malice stung wrung. ; m burns' poems. His well-won bays, than life itself more dear. Foil’d,By miscreants bleeding, torn, tortur’d, who ne’er in onesprigmustth’ unequal strife, wear: TillThe fledhapless each Poet hope flounders that once on his thro’ bosom life. fir’d, AndBow fledsunk each in squalid, Muse that unprotected glorious onceage, inspir’d, HeDead, heeds even or feelsresentment, no more for theruthless his injur’d critic’srage! page. ForSo, half-starv’d by some hedge, snarling the generouscurs a dainty steed feast;deceas’d. ByLies toil senseless and famine of each wore tugging to skin bitch’s and bone.son. Calin-shelter’d0 dulness ! portionhaven ofof eternal the truly rest! blest! OfThy Fortune’s sons ne’er polar madden frost, in or the torrid fierce beams. extremes "WithIf mantling sober selfishhigh she ease fills they the sip golden it up cup, : ConsciousThey only thewonder bounteous “ some meed folks” they do well not deserve. starve. AndThe gravethinks sage the mallardhern thus a sadeasy worthless picks his dog.frog, AndWhen thro disappointment- disastrous night snaps they the darklingclue of hope. grope, AndWith just deaf conclude, endurance that sluggishly “foolsarefortune’s they bear, care.” StrongSo, heavy, on thepassive sign-post to the stands tempest’s the stupidshocks. ox. NotNot such so thethe workings idle muses’ of their mad-cap moon-struck train, brain; ByIn equanimityturns in soaring they neverheaven, dwell, or vaulted hell. With1 dread all athee, poet’s, Fate, husband’s, relentless father’s and severe, fear ! AlreadyGlencairn, one the strong truly hold noble, of hopelies in is dust;lost, And(Fled, left like us thedarkling sun eclips’d in a world as noon of tears appears. ;) burns’ poems. Oh ! hear my ardent, grateful, selfish pray'r! Thro’t'iiUra, a mylong other life hisstay, hopes long and bless wishes and sparecrown, ! MayAnd brightMiss domestic in cloudless smooth skies his his private sun go path, down ! WithGive energymany a to filial life, tear and circling sooth histhe latestbed of breath death ! LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN. TheBv windfits the blew sun’s hollow departing frae the beam hills, Look’dThat onwav’d the o’erfading Lugar’s yellow winding woods stream : BeneathLaden awith craigy years steep, and a meikle bard. pain. In \Vheartloud lament death bewail’dhad all untimely his lord, taen. HeWhose lean’d trunk him wasto an mould’ring ancient aik, do wn wi’ years; HisHis locks hoary were cheek bleached was wetwhite wi’ wi’ tears time, ; AndAnd as ashe hetouch’d tun’d hishis tremblingdoleful sang. harp, TheTo winds, echo bore lamenting the notes thro’ alang. their caves, “YeThe scatter’d reliques birds, of the that vernal faintly quire sing ! YeThe woods, honours that ofshed the on aged a’ the year winds ! A Againfew short ye’ll months, charm andthe earglad and and ee gay,; ButCan nought gladness in all bring revolving again timeto me. BURNS POEMS. “ IThat am along bending, has stood aged the tree, ivind and rain,; ButAnd now my has last come hold a ofcruel earth blast, is gane ; NaeNae leaf simmer o’ mine sun shall exalt greet my thebloom spring, ? . ButAnd I maun ithers lie plant before them the in storm, my room. “ I'veOn earthseen saeI am mony a stranger changefu’ grown years. ; I wanderAlike unknowing in the ways and of men, unknown : Unheard,I bear alaneunpitied, my lade unreliev’d, o’ care. ForLie silent, a’ that low, would on beds my ofsorrows dust, share. “ AndMy noblelast, (themaster sum lies of ina’ claymy griefs; !) TheHis flower country’s amang pride, our hisbarons country’s bold, stay; In Forweary a’ thebeing life now of life I pine, is dead. AndOn hope forward has wingleft my for aged ever ken.fled. “AwakeThe voice thy oflast wo sad and voice, wild mydespair harp ! ! Awake,Then sleepresound in silencethy latest ever lay, mair! AndThat thou, fiHest my an last, untimely best, only tomb. friend. AcceptThou this brought tribute from from fortune’s the bard mirkest gloom. “ InThick poverty’s mists, low obscure, barren involv’d vale. me round ; ThoughNae ray oft of I fameturn’d was the to wistful be found: eye, BUJINS’ POEMS. 177 ThouThat found’st melts the me, fogs like in the limpid morning air, sun TheBecame friendless alike bard thy andfostering rustic care.song. | “ OWhile ! why villains has worth ripen so gray short with a date. time ? i MustFall thou, in bold the manhood’s noble, gen’rous, hardy great,prime ! ’ WhyA daydid toI liveme soto fullsee thatof wo day ! ? - O Which! had I laidmet mythe benefactormortal shaft low! " “ TheWas bridegroom made his wedded may forget wife yestreenthe bride ; |j TheThat monarch on his mayhead forget an hour the has crown been ; TheThat mother smiles may sae forget sweetly the on child her knee; . ButAnd I’ll a’ remember that thou thee,hast Glencairn,done for me !” LINES i Sent to Sin Jobsfoord, ^hitepooed, Bart. of White- WITH THE FOREGOING POEM. Thou, who thy honour as thy God rever’st : Who,fear’st; save thy mind't reproach, nought earthly i; ToThe thee tearful this tributevotive offeringof a broken I impart, heart. j* TheHis friendworth, histhou honour, valued’st, all theI, the world patron, approv’d, lov'if; i : We’llAnd tread mourn, the tilldreary we toopath go toas thathe has dark gone, worl 1 unknown. II 2 burns’ poems. TAM O’ SHANTER, A TALE. Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full isGawin this Buke.Douglas. AndWhen drouthy chapman neebours, billies neeboursleave the meet,street, AndAs market-days fouk begin areto tak wearin the gatelate, ; AndWhile getting we sit fou bousin and atunco the happy, nappy, TheWe thinkmosses, nae waters, on the slaps,lang Scotsand styles, miles. WhareThat lie sits between our sulky us and sullen our dame,hame, IratherinKursin her her wrath brows to like keep gatherin it warm. storm, AsThis he frae truth Ayr fand ae honestnight did Tam canter, o' Shanter, Fcr(Auld honest Ayr, men wham and ne’er bonny a town lasses.) surpasses AsOh, ta’en Tam thy !ain hadst wife thou Kate's but advice been sae! wise, SheA bletherin, tauld thee blustering, weel thou drunkenwas a skellum, blellum; AeThat market frae November day thou wastill October,na sober; ThatThou ilkasat asmelder lang aswi’ thou the miller,had siller ; ThatThe smith every andnaig thee was gat ca’d roarin a shoe fou on, on ; ThouThat atdrank the I>—d'swi’ Kirton house, Jean even till on Monday. Sunday, SheThou prophesied wad be found that, deeplate ordrown’d soon. in Doon ; burns’ poems. 17 OrBy catch’dAllozvay's wi’ auldwarlocks haunted in the kirk. mirk, ! ToAh, think gentle how dames mony !counsels it gars mesweet, greet, 1I HowThe husbandmony lengthen’d frae the wifesage despises advices, ! !! TamBut had to ourgot tale:planted Ae unco market right; night, 1‘ Wi’Fast reamingby an ingle, swats bleezing that drank finely, divinely; j,)And His ancient, at his elbow, trusty, Souter drouthy Johnny, crony ; f2 TheyTam lo’edhad beenhim foulike fora vera weeks brither thegither. ; s■ AndThe nightay the drave ale was on growinwi’ sangs better: and clatter ; |( Wi’The landladyfavours secret, and Tam sweet, grew and gracious, precious ; "“ The souterlandlord’s tauld laugh his queerestwas ready stories; chorus : |jjI;' TheTam stormdidna withoutmind the might storm rair a whistle.and rustle, |• E’enCare, drown’d mad to himsel’ see a manamang sae the happy, nappy ; Ii AsThe bees minutes flee hame wing’d wi’ their lades way o’ treasure,wi’ pleasure; !iI KingsO’er a’ may the illsbe blest, o’ life but victorious Tam was ! glorious, I YouBut seize pleasures the flower, are like its poppiesbloom is spread,shed: AOr moment like the white—thensnow falls in melts the river, for ever ; jv OrThat like flit the ere borealis you can race, point their place; I1 EvanishingOr like the rainbow’samid the stoma—lovely form i NaeThe manhour canapproaches tether time Tam or mauntide; ride ! ! That hour,dreary o’hour night’s he mounts black arch his beastthe key-stai in; 180 burns’ poems. AsAnd ne’er sic apoor night sinner he taks was the abroad road in.in, TheThe rattling wind blewshowers as ’twadrose on blawn the blast;its last; Loud,The speedy deep, gleamsand lang, the the darkness thunder swallow’d; bellow’d; ThatThe deil night had a childbusiness might on understand,his hand. A Weelbetter mounted never lifted on hisleg, grey mare, Mrgy DespisingTam skelpit wind, on thro’and rain,dub andand mire,fire; Whiles crooninghanding fasto’er hissome gude auld blude Scots bonnet; sonnet j WhilesLest bogles glow’ring catch himround unawares wi’ prudent ; cares, WhareKirk-AUoway ghaists wasand drawinghowlets nightlynigh, cry. WhareBy this in thetime snaw he was the crosschapman the ford,smoor’d; WhareAnd past drucken the birks Charlie and meikle brak's stane,neck-bane ; AndWhare thro’ hunters the whins, fand theand murder’d by the cairn, bairn; AndWhare near Mungo's the thorn, mither aboon hang’d the well, hersel— TheBefore doubling him Doon storm pours roars all through his floods; the woods ; NearThe lightningsand more flashnear thefrom thunders pole to poleroll; ; When,Kirk-Albrcay glimmering seem’d thro’ in athe bleeze; groaning trees, AndThro’ loud ilka resounded bore the beamsmirth wereand dancing-glancing; Whatinspiring dangers bold thou John canst Barleycorn make us scornl ! Wi’WT tippennyusquabae wi’we’ll fear face nae the evil; deevil!— LairThe swatsplay, hesae car’dream’d na indeils Tommie's a bodle. noddle, burns’ poems. 181 l' ButTill, Maggieby the heel stood and right hand sair admonish’d, astonish’d, >t And,She ventur’d vow ! Tamforward saw onan theunco light; sight! : NaeWarlocks cotillion and brent witches new in frae a dance; France, a1 PutBut lifehornpipes, and mettle jigs, in strathspeys, their heels. and reels, " AThere winnock-bunker sat auld Nick in inthe shape east, o’ beast; ., ATo towzie gie them tyke, music black, was grim, his charge and large, : i HeTill screw’d roof and the rafters pipes a’and did gart dirl— them skirl, ThatCoffins shaw’d stood theround, dead like in theiropen lastpresses. dresses ; | AndEach byin someits cauld deevilish hand heldcantrip a light— slight, ByTo notewhich upon heroic the Tamhaly wastable, able i'; ATwa murderer’s span-lang, banes wee, in unchristen’d gibbet aims bairns; ; ; AWi’ thief, his lastnew-cutted gasp his frae gab a didrape, gape ; ►i FiveEive scymitars,tomahawks, wi’ wi’ murder blude red-rustedcrusted ; ; , A garter,knife, awhich father’s a babethroat had had strangled mangled. ; TheWhom gray his hairs ain sonyet o’stack life tobereft, the heft; WhichWi’ mair ev’n o’ tohorrible name andwad awfu’,be unlawfu’. TheAs mirth Tammic and glowr’d,fun grew amaz’d, fast and and furious: curious, The piperdancers loud quick and and louder quicker blew; flew ; ’TillThey ilkareel’d, carlin they swat set, and they reekit, cross’d, they cleekit, And Hnkitcoost herat it duddies in her sarkto the 1 walk, 182 BtntNs’ POEMS. Now Tam, O Tam ! had thae been quean* A’Their plump sarks, and instead strappin’ o’ creeshie in their flannen,teens; • ThirBeen breekssnaw-white o’ mine, se’enteen my only hunder pair, linen ! IThat wad ance hae gi’enwere plushthem offo’ gude my hurdies, blue hair, ForBut ae wither’dblink o’ thebeldams, bonnie auld burdies and !droll, LowpingRigwoodie and hags flinging wad spean on a crummpck,a foal, 1 wonderBut Tam didna kend turn what thy was stomach. what fu’ brawlie, ThatThere night was aeenlisted winsome in thewench core, and wawlie, For(Lang mony after a kendbeast onto deadCarrick she shoreshot, ! And perish’dshook baith mony muckle a bonny corn boat, and bear. AndHer cuttykept thesark, country-side o’ Paisley inham, fear;) InThat longitude while a tho’lassie sorely she hadscanty, worn. AhIt was ! little her best,kend andthy shereverend was vauntie.—.grannie. Wi*That twa sark pund she coftScots, for (twas her wee a’ herNannie, riches,) WadBut ever here grac’d my muse a dance her wingof witches maun ! cour; SicTo flightssing how are Nannie far beyond lap andher pow’rflang, ; (AAnd souple how Tamjade wasstood she like and ane strang,) bewitch’d, EvenAnd thoughtSatan glowr’d his very and e’en fldg’d enrich’d; fu’ fain, ’TillAnd botch’dfirst ae caper,and blew syne wi’ anither, might and main: Tam tint his reason41 a’ thegither, And inroars an instantout, Weela’ was done, dark: Cutty-sark!” burns’ poems. I33‘ AndWhen scarcely out the had hellish he Maggie legion sallied. rallied. WhenAs bees plundering bizz out herds wi’ angry assail fyke. their byke j AsWhen, open pop pussie’s ! she mortal starts beforefoes, their nose ; AsWhen eager “ Catchruns the the market-crowd, thief!” resounds aloud ! SoWi’ Maggie mony anruns eldritch the witches skreech follow, and hollow. InAh, hell Tamthey’ll !. ah,roast Tam thee ! likethou’lt a herrin get thy l fairin l KateIn vain soon thy will Kate be awaitsa woefu’ thy woman comin !! AndNow, win do thythe speedykey-stane* utmost, of the Meg., brig ; AThere running at them stream thou they thy darnatail may cross. toss, TheBut erefient the a talekey-stane she had she to could shake make. 1 ForHard Nannie, upon noble far beforeMaggie the prest, rest, AndBut littleflew atwist Tam she wi’Maggie's furious mettle—ettle; AeBut spring left behind brought her oft’ ain her gray master tail: hale, AndThe carlinleft poor claught Maggie her scarceby the a rump, stump. IlkNow, man whaand mother’sthis tale o’son, truth take shall heed: read, Whene’erOr cutty-sarks to drink run youin your are inclin’d,mind, RememberThink, ye mayTam buy o' STianter'sthe joys o’er mare. dear. in the middle of the next rut )per likewise?n he falls to in mention with bogles, tc w 18*1 burns’ poems. ON SEEINGLIMP A WOUNDED BY ME, HARE WHICH A FELLOW HAD JUST SHOT AT. IKHuMAXAnd blasted man be ! thycurse murder-aiming on thy barb’rous eye ;art. NorMay ever never pleasure pity gladsooth thy thee cruel with heart a sigh, 1 Go live, poor wanderer of the wood and field. NoThe more bitter the little thickening that of life brakes, remains: and verdant To theeplains, shall home, or food, or pastime yield. Seek,No mangledmore of rest,wretch, but some now placethy dying of wonted bed !rest, TheThe cold sheltering earth with rushes thy whistlingbloody bosom o’er thyprest. head, Oft, as by winding Nith, I, musing, wait I’llThe miss sober thee eve, sporting or hail theo’er cheerfulthe dewy dawn. lawn. And curseless thefate. ruffian’s aim, and mourn thy hap- ADDRESS TO THE SHADE OF THOMSON, ON CROWNINGBURGHSHIRE, HIS BUST WITH AT BAYS.EDNAM, ROX- WhileUnfolds virgin her tender Spring, mantle by Eden’s green, flood, OrOr pranks tunes the Eolian sod instrains frolic between mood, -t burns’ poems. 185 ^VTliile' Retreats Summer to Dryburgh’s with a matron cooling grace shade, YetThe oft, progress delighted, of thestops spiky to trace blade: WhileBy Tweed Autumn, erects benefactor his aged kind. head. |And Each sees, creature with self-approving on his bounty mind, fed : 1 WhileThe hillsmaniac whence Winter classic rages Yarrow o’er flows. i BousingOr, sweeping, the turbid wild, torrent’s a waste roar, of snows; SoShall long, bloomsweet thatpoet wreathof the year,thou well hast won | | WhileProclaims Scotia, that with Thomson exulting was tear, her son. CAPT.THROUGH GROSE’S PEREGRINATIONS SCOTLAND, COLLECTING THEKINGDOM. ANTIQUITIES OF THAT PraeHear, Maidenkirk Land o’ Cakes, to Johnny and britherGroat’s Scots,; i If there’s a hole in Ia’ rede your you coats, tent it: i A chield’s amang you,And takingfaith, he’llnotes. prent it! !*Upon,If in your a fine, bounds fat, fodgelye chance wight, to light O’ stature short, butThat’s genius he, bright, mark weel—. And wow ! he has O’an uncocauk slightand keel. 186 burns’ poems. OrBy kirksome deserted auld, howlet-haunted by its riggin. biggin*,. Its ten to ane ye’ll findSome him eldritch snug part,in Wi’ deils, they say,At L—d some safe’s black ! art—colleaguinr YeIlk gipscy-gangghaist that haunts that deal auld in ha’ glamor. or cham’er, And you deep-read Warlocksin hell’s black and witches;grammar. Ye’ll quake at his conjuringYe midnight hammer, b es. AndIts tauld ane hewad was rather a sodger fa’n thanbred, fled ; But now he’s quat Andthe spurtle dog-skin blade, wallet. And ta’en the—Antiquarian1 think they trade, call it. HeRusty has airn a fouth caps o’ and auld jinglin nick-nackets: jackets-)-. Wad haud the LothiansA towmond three in gude tackets, ^ And parritch-pats, Beforeand auld the saut-backets, Flood. AuldOf Eve’s Tubal-Cain’s first fire he fire-shool has a cinder and fender;; That which distinguishedO’ Balaam’s the gender ass; A broom-stick o’ theWeel witch shod of Endor,wi’ brass. TheForbye, cut he’llof Adam’s shape philibeg;you aff fu’ gleg burns’ poems. 187 The knife that nicketHe’ll Abel’s prove craig you fully. It was a faulding, jocteleg,Or lang-kail gullie.— ForBut meiklewad ye gleesee himand infun his has glee. he, Then set him down,Gude and fellowstwa or threewi’ him ; And port, O portshineAnd then thou ye’ll a wee, see him ! ThouNow, byart thea dainty pow’rs chield, o* verse O Groseand prose !— ! Whae’er o’ thee shallThey ill sairsuppose, misca’ thee ; I’d tak the rascal byWad the say.nose. Shame fa’ thee. TO MISS CRUIKSHANKS, A VERY YOUNG LADY, Written on theto leerBlank by Leafthe fathor. of a Rook, presented BeauteousBlooming on thyrose-bud, early May,young and gay, ChillyNever may’stshrink inthou, sleety lovely show’r flow’r, ! Never Euru’sBoreas’ pois’noushoary path, breath, NeverTaint theebaleful with stellar untimely lights. blights t Never,Riot on neverthy virgin reptile leaf! thief ThyNor evenbosom Sol blushing too fiercely still viewwith dew ! 188 burns’ poems. RichlyMay’st deck thou thy long, native sweet stem crimson ; gem. ProppingTill some dews,evening, and sober, breathing calm, balm. AndWhile every all aroundbird thy the requiem woodland sings rings. ; ShedThou, thy amid dying the honoursdirgeful round,sound, AndThe loveliestresign to formparent she earth e’er gave birth. ON READING IN A NEWSPAPER THE DEATH OF JOHN M‘LEOD, ESQ. Brother Friendto a Young of the Lady, Author'!. ^particular SadAnd thy rueful tale, thouthy alarms idle page, : DeathFrom tears Isabella’s the brother arms. of her love SweetlyThe morning deckt with rose pearly may blowdew. : ButMay cold lay successive its beauties noontide low. blasts FairThe on sunIsabella’s propitious morn smil'd J But,Succeeding long e’er hopes noon, beguil’d. succeeding clouds FateThat oft naturetears the finest bosom strung: chords SoAnd Isabella’s so that heart heart was was form’d, wrung. DreadCan Omnipotence,heal the wound alone, he gavef burns’- poems. 189 CanTo point scenes the beyond brimful the grief-worn grave. eyes Virtue'sAnd fear blossoms no withering there shall blast; blow, ThereShall Isabella’s happy be spotless at last. worth THE HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER,* TO THE NOBLE DUKE OF ATHOLE. JIyWo Lord, ne’er I assailsknow, inyour vain noble ; ear Embolden’dYour humble thus, slave I beg complain, you’ll hear HowIn saucyflaming Phoebus’ summer scorching pride, beams, Dry-withering,And drink my waste crystal my tide.foamy streams, TheThat lightly-jumping thro’ my waters glow’ring play, trouts, If, Theyin their near random, the margin wanton stray spouts, : If,I’m hapless scorching chance up ! sothey shallow, linger lang, They’reIn gasping left the death whitening to wallow. stanes amang, LastAs dayPoet I Burnsgrat wi’ came spite by, and teen. That,Wi’ tohauf a bard my Ichannel should drybe seen: * Bruar Falls in Atliole, are exceedingly picturesque wantand beautiful: of trees and but shrubs. their effect is much impaired by the 190 burns’ poems. A Kv’npanegyric as I wasrhyme, he shor’dI ween, me; ButHe, had kneeling, I in my wadglory ador’d been. me. Here,In twisting foaming strength down the I shelvyrin ; rocks. There,Wild-roaring high my o’erboiling a linn torrent : smokes, EnjoyingAs Nature large gave each them spring me, and well I am,Worth altho’ gaun I say’ta mile mysel. to see. WadTo thengrant my my noble highest master wishes. please He’llAnd shade bonnie my spreading banks wi’ bushes. tow’ring trees, DelightedYou’ll wander doubly onthen, my mybanks. Lord, AndReturn listen you mony tuneful a grateful thanks. bird TheShall sober to lavrock,the skies warbling aspire; wild, TheShall gowdspink, sweetly join music’s the choir:gayest child, TheThe blackbird mavis mild strong, and themellow; lintwhite clear, TheIn robinall her pensive locks ofautumn yellow. cheer, ThisTo too,shield a covert them fromshall ensure.the storm ; AndLow coward in her maukin grassy sleepform :secure, HereTo shallweave the his shepherd crown o’ mak flow’rs; his seat, Ori'rom find aprone sheltering descending safe retreat, show’rs. burns’ poems. 191 .AndShall here, meet by thesweet loving endearing pair, stealth, ,DespisingAs empty worlds idle carew ith : all their wealth TheThe flowers hour shallof heaven vie in to all grace. their charms AndTo birks screen extend the dear their embrace. fragrant arms L HereSome haply musing too, bardat vernal may dawn,stray, •/AndAnd eye misty the smoking, mountain dewy gray; lawn, 'iOr,Mild-chequering by the reaper’s thro’nightly the beam, trees, HaveHoarse to my swelling darkly-dashing on the breeze. stream, LetMy lofty lowly firs, banks and asheso’erspread. cool, AndTheir view, shadows’ deep-bending wat’ry inbed! the pool, ■ LetMy fragrant craggy birks, cliffs adornin woodbines ; drest, ! And,The for close the embow’ringlittle songster’s thorn. nest, ; So Yourmay oldlittle Scotia’s angel band,darling hope, ;, Spring,Their likehonour’d their fathers,native land up to! prop So Tomay, social thro’ flowing Albion’s glasses, farthest ken, i TheAnd grace Athole’s be—‘ Athole’sbonnie lasses honest !’ men, i<)£ burns’ poems. ON SCARING SOME WATER-FOWL IN LOCH-TURIT ; A wild Scene among the Hills of Oughtcrtyre* Why,For me yeyour tenants wat’ry of haunt the lake, forsake-? AtTell my me, presence fellow-creatures, thus you fly why ? WhyParent, disturb filial, yourkindred social ties joys. ?— Nature’sCommon giftsfriend to to all you are and free me, : BusyPeaceful feed, keep or wantonyour dimpling lave; wave, Or,Bide beneath the surging the shelteringbillow’s shock. rock. Soon,Conscious, too soon, blushing your fears for ourI trace. race. Man,Would your be lordproud of usurpingall below foe,: TyrantPlumes sternhimself to allin Freedom’sbeside. pride, MarkingThe eagle, you fromhis prey the below,clifly brow, StrongIn his breastnecessity no pitycompels. dwells. ABut ray man, direct to fromwhom pitying alone isHeav’n, giv’n ClonesAnd creatures in his heartfor his humane— pleasure slain. OnlyIn theseknown savage to wand’ring liquid plains. swains, WhereFar from the human mossy haunts riv’let andstrays. ways; burns’ poems. m AilAnd on life’s Nature poor youseason depend, peaceful spend. DareOr, invade if man’s your superior native might.right. OnMan the with lofty all ether his pow’rs borne, you scprn } SwiftlyOther lakes seek, and on otherclanging springs wings. ; AndScorn the at leastfoe you to becannot his slave.brave, WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL, OVER THEKEN PHIMKEV-PIECE MURE, TAYMOUTH. OF THE 1XJJ AT Admiring Nature in her wildest grace, O’erThese many northern a winding scenes dalewith and weary painful feet 1steep, trace; Th’lily savageabodes journey,of eovey’d curious, grouse Iand pursue, timid sheep, ’TillThe meetingfam’d Breadalbane cliffs each deep-sunk opens to my glen view.— divides, T her woods,wild-scatter’d,clothe their ample siih^; TheTh outstretchinglake,embosom’d’mongthehills, eye with wonder and amazement fills ; The palaceTay, meandering rising on its sweet verdant in infant side ; pride, The lawnshillocks wood-fring’d dropt in Nature's in Nature’s careless native haste taste; ; I» The archesvillage stridingglittering o’er in thethe new-bornnoontide beam—stream ; |i PoeticLone wandering ardours in by my the bosom hermit’s swell, mossy cell: Th’The incessantsweeping roar theatre of headlong of hanging tumbling woods; floods— 1 194 burns’ poems. Here Poesy might wake her heaven-taught lyre, AndHere, look to the through wrongs Nature of fate with half creative reconcil’d, fire ; Andmisfortune’s Disappointment, lighten’d insteps these might lonely wander bounds, wild ; FindHere heart-struckbalm to sooth Grief her mightheav’nwardbitter rankling wounds: stretch And injur’dher scan, Worth forget and pardon man. WRITTEN WITH A PENCIL, STANDING BY THEEOCH-NESS. FALL OF FYEES, NEAR Among the healthy hills and woods, ’TillThe roaringfull he dashesFyers pourson the his rocky mossy mounds, floods ; ] AsWhere high thro’ashapelessbreachhisstreamresounds. in air the bursting torrents flow, ProneAs deep-recoiling down the rock surges the whit’ning foam below. sheet descends,; / Dim-seen,And viewless through echo’s rising ear astonish’d mists and rends. ceaseless The hoaryshowers, cavern, wide surrounding, lowers. StillAnd thro’still, below,the struggling the horrid river cauldron toils, boils— 1 burns’ poems. 195 ON THE BIRTH OF A POSTHU- MOUS CHILD, BORN IN PECULIARFAMILY DISTRESS. CIRCUMSTANCES OF SweetAnd ward floweret, o’ mony pledge a pray’r, o’ meikle love, WhatSae helpless,heart o’ stanesweet, wad and thou fair. na’ move, i NovemberChill, on hirples thy lovely o’er formthe lea, ; AndShould gane, shield alas! theethe shelteringfrae the storm. tree. | MayAnd He wings who thegies blast the rain to blaw, to pour. |’ ProtectThe bitterthee frae frost the and driving snaw. show’r, ;I MayWho He, heals the friendlife’s various of wo and stounds, want, ^l ProtectAnd healand guardher cruel the wounds.mother plant, i ButFair late on the the flourish’d, summer morn;rooted fast, '| NowUnshelter’d feebly bends and sheforlorn. in the blast, BlestUnscath’d be thy bloom,by ruffian thou hand lovely ! gem, iAnd Arise from to theedeck many our land. a parent stem 196 burns’ poems. SECOND EPISTLE TO DAVIE, A BROTHER POET. ATJLD NEEBOUR, I’mFor yourthree auld-farrent,times doubly frien’lyo’er your letter; debtor. Tho’ I maun say’tYe I speakdoubt sae we fair;flatter, For my puir, silly,Some rhymin’ less maun clatter ser’. HaleLang bemay your your heart, elbuck hale jink be yourand diddle. fiddle ; To cheer you thro’O’ thewar’ly weary cares, widdle ’Till bairns’ bairnsYour kindly auld cuddle, gray hairs. I’mBut tauldDavie, the lad, Muse I’m ye red hae ye’re negleckit; glaikit; And gif its sae, yeUntil sud yebe fyke; lickit Sic hauns as you Besud hain't ne’er whabe faikit, like. PuvinFor me, the I’m words on Parnassus’to gar them brink, clink; Whyles daez’t wi’Wi’ love, jads whylesdaez’t or masons; wi’ drinli 1 And whyles, butBraw ay owre sober late, lessons. I think, , OfCommend a’ the thoughtless me to the Bardie sons o’ clan; man, Except it be someO’ idle rhymin’ plan clink. The devil-haet, thatThey I sudever ban, think. burns’ poems. 197 Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme 0’ livin’,, ! Nae cares to gie us joy or grievin’; But just the pouchieAnd putwhile the ought’s nieve in. there, Then hiltie, skiltie,And we fash gae nae scrivin’. mair. 3 , MyLeeze chief, me onamaist rhyme! my it’sonly ay pleasure. a treasure, At hame, a-fiel’, Theat wark Muse, or leisure.poor hizzie! ’ Tho’ rough and raplochShe’s seldom be her lazy. measure, . HaudThe war!’ to the may Muse, play myyou dainty monie Davie: a shavie; I But for the Muse,Tho’ she’ll e’er never sae puir,leave ye, Na, even tho’ limpinTrae wi’door the to spaviedoor. EPITAPHS. ON A CELEBRATED RULINO ELDER. HereTo h-U, Sowter if he’s Will gane in deaththither, does sleep, Satan,He’ll gie haud him it thy weel gear thegither. to keep, ON A NOISY POLEMIC. BelowO Death, thir it’sstanes my lieopinion, Jamie’s banes; ThouInto ne’er thy darktook dominion!sic a bletherin b-tch ' 198 burns’ poems. ON WEE JOHNNY. HIC JACET WEE JOHNNY-. Whoe’erThat Death thou has art, murder’d O reader Johnny! know. AndFor here saul his he bodyne’er lies had fu’ony. low FOR THE AUTHOR’S FATHER. O Drawye whose near cheekwith piousthe tear reverence, of pity stains,and attend ! HereThe lie tender the loving Father, Husband’s and the generousdear remains. Friend. TheThe pitying dauntless heart heart that thatfear’d felt for human nohuman wo! pride! The“For friend ev’n of his man, failings to Vice lean’d alone to Virtue’sa foe, side.” FOR ROBERT AITKEN, Esq. OfKnow this thou,much Olov’d, stranger much to honour’d the fame name! A(For warmer none heartthat know Death him ne’er need made be told)cold. FOR GAVIN HAMILTON, Esq. TheWhom poor canting man weeps—here wretches blam’d Gavin 5 sleeps,. ButMay with I suchbe sav'd as he, or where’erd d l he be, A BARD’S EPITAPH. IsOwre there fast a whim-inspiredfor thought, owre fool, hot for rule, Owre blate to seek,Let owrehim prouddraw near; to snool, And owre this grassyAnd drapheap asing tear, dool, BUttNS’ POEMS.- 199 ' Who,Is tbere noteless, a Bard stealsof rustic the song,crowds among, That weekly thisO, area pass throng, not by t But, with a frater-feelingHere heave strong, a sigh.- CanIs there others a man, teach whose the course judgment to steer, cleat Yet runs, himself,Wild life’s as mad the career,wave. Here pause—and,Survey thro’ thisthe startinggrave. tear, TheWas poorquick inhabitant to learn, belowand wise to know, And keenly felt Andthe frendly softer flame.glow, But thoughtless folliesAnd stain’d laid him his low,name. SoarsReader, fancy’s attend—whether flights beyond thy the soul pole. Or darkling grubsIn this low earthypursuit hole ;• Know, prudent, cautious,Is wisdom’s self-control root. r SONGS. JOHN BARLEYCORN.* A BALLAD. ThereThree waskings three both kings great into and the high, east, AndJohn they Barleycorn hae sworn should a solemn die. oath known» This by is the partly same composed name. on the plan of an old song 200 burns’ poems. T'ut-'yPut took clods a uponplough his and head, plough’d him down. AndJohn they Barleycorn hae sworn wasa solemn dead. oath ButAnd the show’rscheerful began spring to came fall; kindly on. JohnAnd Barleycorn sore surpris’d got upthem again, all. TheAnd sultry he grewsuns thickof summer and strong, came, HisThat head no weel one arm’dshould wi’ him pomted wrong. spears, TheWhen sober he autumn grew wan enter’d and mild.pale 4 HisShow’d bending he joints,began andto fail. drooping head, HisHe colour faded sicken’d into age: more and more. AndTo then shew his their enemies deadly began rage. They’veAnd cut taen him a weapon,by the knee: long and sharp, ThenLike tied a rogue him fast for uponforgerie. a cart, TheyAnd laid cudgell’d him down him uponfull sore;his back. TheyAnd hung turn’d him him up o’er before and the o’er. storm, TheyWith filled water a darksome to the brim. pit TheyThere heaved let him in Johnsink orBarleycorn, swim. TheyTo laidwork him him out farther upon wo,the floor, AndThey still, tossed as signs him of to life and appear’d, fro. burns’ poems. 201 TlicyThe wasted, marrow o’er of hisa scorching banes ; flame. ButFor a millerhe crush’d us’d him ’tweenworst of twa all, stanes. AndAnd they drank hae itta’en round his andvery round heart’s ; blood, AndTheir still joy the did more more and abound. more they ' drank, JohnOf Barleycornnoble enterprise^ was a hero bold, For’Twill if you make do but your taste courage his blood, rise, ’Twill’Twill make heighten a man all forget his joy his ;wo ; ’TwillTho’ make the tear the werewidow’s in her heart eye. to sing, ThenEach let man us toast a glass John in handBarlejrcorn, ; AndJNe’er may fail his in great old Scotlandposterity ! A FRAGMENT. Tune—“ Gillicrankie.1* WhenAnd didGuilford our helm gude thraw, our pilotman, stood. AeWithin night, atAmerica, tea, began man a iplea. ThenAnd up in they the seagat didthe jaw,maskin-pat, man ; AndThan did quitenae less, refuse in fullour law,Congress, man. ThenI wat thro’ he thewas lakesnae slaw, Montgomery man ; takes, •DownAnd Lowne's Carlcton Burndid ca’, he man;took a turn, 202 burns' poems. ButMontgomery-like yet, what-reck, he,did atfa’, Quebec, man, Wi’Among sword his in hand,enemies before a’, man. his band. PoorWas Tammy kept at Gage, Boston-ha', within mana cage. ; ’TillFor Willie Philadelphia, Howe took man: o’er the knowe Wi’Gude sword Christian and gun, bluid he thoughtto draw,%ian a sin ; ButSir-loin at New-York, he hacked wi’ sma’, knife man. and fork. BurgoyneTill Fraser, gaed brave,up, like did spur fa’, and man whup. ; ThenIn Saratogalost his way, shaw, ae man.misty day. CornieallisAnd did thefought Buckskins as lang’s claw, he dought. man ; 'But He Clinton's hung it toglaive, the wa’, frae man.rust to save, ThenBegan Montague, to fear a andfa’, Guilfordman ; too. AndThe SackviUe German doure, Chief whato tliraw, stood manthe stoure,: ForNae Paddy mercy Burke, had at like a’, onyman Turk, ; AndAnd Charlie lows’d Fox his tinklerthrew byjaw, the man. box. ThenTill Rockingham death did on tookhim upca’, the man; game, WhenConform Shelburne, to gospel meek, law, held man. up his cheek. SaintThey Stephen’s did his measuresboys, wi’ thraw,jarring man.noise, ForAnd North bore and him Fox to the united wa’, stocks,man. BTjnXS’ POEMS. 503 ThenHe clubsswept andthe stakeshearts awa’,were Charlie'sman, cartes, ’TillLed the him diamond’s a sa.\r fanx ace, pas, of Indianman : race, TheOn Saxon Chatham's lads, wi’boy loud did ca’,placads, man ; And“ Up,Scotland Willie, drew waur her them pipe a’,and man!” blew, BehindA secret the wdrdthrone or thentwa, Grenville'sman ; gone, WhileBe-north slee Dundusthe Roman arous’d wa’, theman: class And(Inspired Chatham's bardies wraith, saw, inman,) heavenly graith, Wi’“ Wadkindling I hae eyes fear’d cried, them “ Willie, a’, man rise ?” I But,Gowff’d word andWillie blow, like North, a ba’, Fox,man, § Co. ’TillBehind Southron him inraise, a raw, and man coost : their claise AndAnd Caledon did her threw whittle by draw,the drone, man ; AndTo swoor mak itfu’ gude rude, in thro’law, man.dirt and blood, THE RIGS O’ BARLEY. ItWhen was upon corn a rigs Lammas are bonnie. night, BeneathI held theawa moon’s to Annie: unclouded light, The’Till time ’tween flew bythe wi’ late tentless and early; heed, Wi’To sma’ gee mepersuasion thro’ the she barley. agreed 204 burns' poems. TheThe sky moon was blue,was shining the wind clearly was still,: I setAmang her down the rigs wi’ o’right barley good : will I kendI lov’d her her heart most was sincerely; a’ my ain ; I kiss’dAmang her the owre rigs and o’ barley.owre again I lock’dHer heart her inwas my beating fond embracerarely i ; MyAmang blessings the onrigs that o’ barleyhappy !place, ButThat by theshone moon that and hour stars sae sae clearly bright. ! SheAmang ay shall the bless rigs thato’ barley. happy night, I haeI hae been been blythe merry wi’ drinking comrades ; dear j I haeI hae been been joyfu’ happy gath’rrn thinking gear : ; ButTho’ a’ the three pleasures times doubled e’er I saw, fairly, ThatAmang happy the night rigs waso’ barley. worth them a’, CHORUS. CornAnd rigs, com and rigs barley are bonnie: rigs. I’llAmang ne’er forget the rigs that wi’ happy Annie. night, SONG. COMPOSED IN AUGUST. TuNE^ “ I had a Horse, J had nae mair.'* NowBring westlin Autumn’s winds, pleasant and slaught’ring weather ; guns. burns’ poems. 205 TheAmang moorcock the bloomingsprings, on heather: whirring wings, NowDelights wavin thegrain, weary wide farmer o’er the ; plain, AndTo the muse moon upon shines my bright, charmer. when I rove at night, TheThe partridge plover lovesloves thethe mountainsfruitful fells ; ; TheThe woodcock soaring hauntshern the the fountains lonely dells i ; Thro’The loftypath grovesof man the to cushatshun it; roves. TheThe hazel spreading bush o’erhangs thorn the the linnet. thrush. ThusThe ev’ry savage kind and their the pleasuretender; find, SomeSome social solitary join, wander: and leagues combine £ AvauntTyrannic away man’s 1 the dominion;cruel sway. TheThe sportsman’s flutt’ring, joy,gory the pinion murd'ring ! cry. But* Thick Peggy flies dear, the skimmingthe ev’ning’s swallow clear, ; TheAll sky fading-green is blue, the and fields yellow in view, : ComeAnd let view us straythe charms our gladsome of nature way. ; TheAnd rustling ev’ry happycorn, the creature. fruited thorn, We’ll’Till gently the silent walk, moon and shinesweetly clearly; talk, I’llSwear grasp how thy 1waist, love theeand, dearlyfondly : prest, NotNot vernal autumn show’rs to the to farmer.budding flow’is, So Mydear fair, can mybe aslovely thou charmer! to me, 206 BCRNS’ POEMS. SONG. Tune—“ My Nannie, O." Behind’Mang moorsyon hills and where mosses Lugar many, flows, O, TheAnd wintry I’ll awasun theto Nannie, day has O.clos’d, TheThe westlin night’s wind baith blaws mirk loud and and rainy, shill; O ; ButAnd I’ll owre get mythe plaid,hills to and Nannie, out I’ll O. steal. MyNae Nannie’s artfu’ wilescharming, to win sweet, ye, O and : young ; MayThat ill befa’beguile the my flattering Nannie, tongue O, HerAs face spotless is fair, as hershe’s heart bonnie, is true, O ; TheNae op’ning purer gowan,is than Nannie,wet wi’ dew,O. A Andcountry few ladthere is mybe thatdegree. ken me, O ; ButI’m what welcome care I ayhow to fewNannie, they be,O. MyAnd riches I maun a’s my guide penny-fee. it cannie, O ; ButMy warl’s thoughts gear arene’er a’ troublesmy Nannie, me, O. OurHis auld sheep gudeman and kye delights thrive bonnie,to view O ; ButAnd I’m has as naeblythe car^but tfcat bauds Nannie, hie O.pleugh, ComeI’ll takweel, what come Heav’n wo, I willcarena send by, me, O ; NaeBut ither live, care and in love life myhae Nannie,I, 0. burns’ poems. 207 GREEN GROW THE RASHES. A FRAGMENT. There’sIn ev’ry nought hour that but passes, care on O ev’ry : han’, WhatAnd signifies ’twere na the for life the o’ lasses,man, O. GreenGreen grow grow the the rashes, rashes, O O; ; TheWere sweetest spent hours amang that the e’er lasses, I spent. O. The war’ly race may riches chase, AndAnd tho’ richgs at last still they may catch fly them,them Ofast, ; There hearts canGreen ne’er grow, enjoy &e. them, O. But gie me a canny hour at e’en. AndMy war’ly arms aboutcares, myand dearie, war’ly Omen, ; May a’ gae tapsalteerie,Green grow, O &e.! For you sae douse, ye sneer at this, TheYe’re wisest nought man butthe senselesswarl’ e’er asses, saw, O t He dearly lo’edGreen the lasses, grow, O.&c. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears HerHer prentice noblest han’ work she she tried classes, on man. O : And then she madeGreen the grow, lasses, &c. O. 208 burns’ poems. SONG. Tune—11 Johnny's Grey Brecks.'f AgainHer robe rejoicing assume Nature its vernal sees hues, HerAll leafy freshly locks steep’d wave inin themorning breeze. dews. AndAnd maun bear I thestill scorn on Menie that’s dote,in her e’e ? ForAnd it’s itjet, winna jet black, let a bodyand it’sbe 1like a hawk, In vain to me the cowslips blaw, In Invain vain to tome, me in the glen vi’lets or shaw, spring; The mavis andAnd the maunlint white I still, sing. &c. The merry ploughboy cheers his team, ButWi’ life joy to theme’s tentie a weary seedsman dream, stalks ; A dream of aneAnd that maun never I wauks.still, &c. The wanton coot the water skims, TheAmang stately the swan reeds majestic the ducklings swims. cry, And every thing Andis blest maun but II. still, &c. The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap. Wi’And wild, owre unequal, the moorlands wand’ring whistles step, shill, I meet him on Andthe dewymaun hilL I still, &c. And when the lark, ’tween light and dark, AndBlythe mounts waukens and sings, by the on daisy’s flittering side, wings, A woe-worn ghaistAnd Imaun hameward I still, glide.&c. burns’ poems. 209 -Come 'Winter, with thine angry howl, ThyAnd gloom raging will bend sooth the my naked cheerless tree ; soul, When Nature Andall is maun sad like I still, me ! &c. SONG. Tune—“ RosUn Cattle." TheLoud gloomyroars the night wild is inconstant gath’ring blast,fast. YonI see murkyit driving cloud o’er is thefoul plain: with rain, The hunterscatter’d now coveys has leftmeet the secure, moor, AlongWhile thehere lonely I wander, banks prest of Ayr. with care, ByThe early Autumn Winter’s mourns ravage her rip’ningtorn ; corn, SheAcross sees her the placid, scowling azure tempest sky. fly : IChill think runs upon my the blood stormy to hear wave, it rave, WhereFar from many the bonniea danger banks I must of Ayr.dare, ’Tis not thatthe surging fatal deadly billows’ shore roar, ; Tho’The wretcheddeath in haveev’ry noshape more appear, to fear: ButThat round heart mytranspierc’d heart the withties aremany bound, a wound j TheseTo leave bleed the afresh,bonnie thosebanks ties of Ayr.I tear, HerFarewell, heathy old moors Coila't and hills winding and dales. vales; 210 burns’ poems* PursuingThe scenes past, where unhappy wretched loves fancy ! roves,- MyFarewell, peace mywith friends these, ! myfarewell, love with my those—*foes ! FarewellThe bursting the bonnietears my banks heart of declare, Ayr l SONG. Tune—“ Gilderoy'r FromAnd thee,from myEliza, native I must shore; go, TheA boundlesscruel fates ocean’sbetween roar: us throw ButBetween boundless my oceanslove and roaring me, wide, TheyMy never,heart andnever soul can from divide thee ^ Farewell,The maid farewell. that I Elizaadore! dear. A Weboding part voice to meet is in no mine more ear, ! ButWhile the last death throb stands that victor leaves by, my heart, ThatAnd throb, thine Eliza,that latest is thy sigh part. ! THE FAREWELL TO THE BRETHRENTARBOLTON. OF ST. JAMES’S LODGE,- Tone—“ Good Night, and Joy be rci'you a'l'* AdieuDear brothers! a heart-warm, of the mystic fond adieutye l t YeCompanions favour’d, ye of enlightened my social joyfew, 1 BURNS’POEMS. 211 Tho’Pursuing I to foreign Fortune’s lands slidd’ry must hie, ba\ WithI’ll meltingmind you heart, still, and tho’ brimful far awa’. eye, OftAnd have spent I met the your cheerful, social festive band, night; Oft,Presided honour’d o’er with the supremesons of light: command, AndWhich by that none hieroglyphic but craftsmen bright, ever saw ! StrongThose mem’ry happy onscenes my heartwhen shallfar awa’. write, MayUnite freedom, you in harmony, the grand and design. love,. BeneathThe glorious the omniscient architect eye divine above, !. ThatStill you rising may by keep the th’plummeV's unerring law. HnCy TillShall order be brightmy pray’r completely when far shine, awa.* AndJustly, you, farewell!that highest whose badge merits to wear claim. ! Heav’nTo Masonry bless your and honour’d, Scotia dear noble ! name, A Whenlast request, yearly permit ye assemble me here, a’. OneTo round, him, I askBarb, it with that's a tear, far awa'. u SONG. Tune— Prepare,Tavern my let's dear fly.' Brethren, to the No statemanchurchman nor am soldier I for toto plotrail orand to to fight, write, ForNo slya big-belly’d man of business bottle’s contriving the whole a ofsnare, my care. 212 burns’ poems. 1The scorn peer not I don’tthe peasant, envy, Itho’ give ever him so his low how; ; AndBut aa club bottle of good like fellows,this, are like my those glory that and are care. here. ThereHere passes centum the per squire centum, on his the brother—his cit with his pursehorse ; ThereBut see a youbig-belly’d the crown bottle how still it waves eases inmy the care. air, ForThe sweetwife ofconsolation my bosom, to alas!church she I diddid flydie : ; ThatI found a big-belly’dthat old Solomon botde’s proveda cure itfor fair. all care. AI onceletter was inform’d persuaded me thata venture all was to to make; wreck ; WithBut the a gloriouspursy old bottle landlord that just ended waddled my cares. up stairs, * Life’sdown cares they are comforts*’.—a maxim laid By theblack bard, gown what : d’ye call him, that wore the ForAnd a faith big-belly’d I agree bottle’swith th’ a oldheaven prig ofto care.a hair; A Stanza added in a Mason Lodge. AndThen honours fill up amasonic bumper, prepare and make for toit o’erflow.throw ; HaveMay every a big-belly’d true brother bottle of when the compass harass’d and with square. care. Young's Night Thoughts. burns’ poems. 213 THE JOLLY BEGGARS. A Cantata. REC1TATIVO. Or,When wavering lyart leaveslike the bestrew bauckie* the bird,yird. WhenBedim hailstanes cauld Boreas’ drive wi’blast: bitter skyte. AndIn infanthoary cranreughfrosts begin drest; to bite, AeO’ night, randie at gangrele’en, a merrybodies, core In ToPoosie-Nansie’s drink their orra held daddies the splore. ; Wi’They quaffing ranted and and laughing. they sang ; Wi’The jumping vera girdle and thumping.rang. AneFirst, sat, niest weel the brac’d fire, auld wi’ mealyred rags, bags, HisAnd doxy knapsack lay within a’ in his order arm, ; Wi’She usquebae blinket onand her blankets sodger; warm. AndThe aye tither he gies skelpin the touzie kiss, drab WhileJust shelike held an aumis up her dish greedy : gab, IlkJust smack like still, a cadger’s did crack whup. still. ThenHe staggering,roar’d this dittyand swaggering,up— * The old Scottish name for the Bat. 214 burns’ poems. AIB. Tune—Soldier's Joy.** AndI am showa son my of Mars,cuts and who scars have wherever been in manyI come; wars, i This heretrench, was for a wench, and that other in a When welcomingdrum. the FrenchLai at dethe dandle, sound of&c. the My ’prentishiplast. I past where my leader breathed his When Abram;the bloody die was cast on the heights of I servedplay’d, out my trade when the gallant game was And thedrum. Moro low was hudLai at dethe daudle, sound &c.of the I lastlyFries, was with Curtis, among the floating bat- AndYet letthere my Icountry left for needwitness me, an with arm .Elliott and a tolimb; head I’d clatter on my stumps at theLai sound de daudle, of the drum.&c. And now, tho’ I must beg, with a wooden arm And manyand leg.a tatter’d rag hanging over my bum, I'm as callet,happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my As when I us’d in scarlet to Laifollow de daudle,the drum. &c. What windytho’ with shocks, hoary locks, I must stand the Beneathhome the iwoods and rocks, oftentimes for a BURNS* poems. 215 When thetell, tother bag I sell, and the tother bottle I coulddrum. meet a troop of hellLai at de the daudle, sound of&c. the BECITATIVO. HeAboon ended; the and chorus’ the kebars roar; sheuk WhileAnd frightedseek the rattensbenmost backward bore; leuk, A Hefairy skirl’d fiddler out frae encore the neuk,! ButAnd up laidarose the the loud martial’s uproar. chuck, AIR. Tune—“ Soldier Laddie'9 I once was a maid, tho’ I cannot tell when. LottieAnd still one myof a delight troop ofis dragoonsin proper wasyoung my men;daddie, No wonder I’m fondSing, of a Lai sodger de lal, laddie. &e. The first of my loves was a swaggering blade, ToHis rattle leg was the so thundering tight, and drumhis cheek was was his sotrade ruddy, ; Transported I was Sing,with myLal sodgerde lal, laddie.&c. But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch SoHe theventur’d sword theI forsook soul, Ifor risked the sake the ofbody, the church, ’Twas then I prov’dSing, false Lal to myde lal,sodger &c. laddie. TheFull regimentsoon I grew at largesick offor my a husbandsanctified I sotgot; 216 burns' poems. From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready! 1 asked no more butSing, a sodger Lai de laddie. lal, &c. But the peace it reduc’d me to beg in dispair, 1 HisTill rags1 met regimental my old boy they at flutter’da Cunningham sae gaudy, fair. 31 y heart it rejoic’dSing, at my Lal sodger de lal, laddie. &c. And stillnow II canhave join liv'd—I in a cup know or anot song; how long, But whilststeady, with both hands 1 can hold the glass Here’s to thee, my Sing,hero, Lalmy sodgerde lal, laddie.&c. RECITATIVO. PoorSat Merry guzzling Andrew, wi’ a tinkler in the hizzie;neuk, TheyBetween mind’t themselves na wha the they chorus were took,sae bizzy i AtHe length, stoiter’d wi’ drinkup and and made courting a face dizzy, ; ThenSyne turn’d tun’d and his pipeslaid a wi’smack grave on grimace.Grizzy, ' AIR. Tune—“ siu/d Sir Symon.'* ■SirSir Wisdom’s Knave is a foolfool whenin a session he’s fou. ; He’sBut there I am but a foola prentice by profession. I trow. MyAnd grannie I held she awa bought to the me school; a beuk. I fearBut Iwhat my talentwill ye misteuk hae of a; fool ? burns’ poems. 2J7 ForA drinkliizzie’s I wadthe haufventure o’ mymy craft;neck; ButOf what ane that’scould yeavowedly other expect daft. I anceFor civillywas tied swearing up like anda stirk, quaffing ; I anceFor towzlingwas abus’d a lassi’ the i’ mykirk daffin. PoorLet Andrew neabody that name tumbles wi’ a jeer;for sport. There’sA tumbler ev’n, ca’dI’m thetauld, Premier. i’ the court, Observ’d-Maks faces ye, yonto tickle reverend the mob;lad lieIt’s rails rivalship at our mountebankjust i’ the job. squad f AndFor now faith my I’m conclusion confoundedly I’ll tell, dry, TheUude chiel L—d, that’s is a farfool dafter for himsel’, than I. RECITATIVO. WhaThen kentniest fu’outspak weel toa rauclecleek thecarlin, sterling, AndFor mony had in a monypursy ashe well had been hooked, ducked ; [’Her But wearydove had fa’ beenthe waefu’ a Highland woodie laddie, l jj Wi’To wail sighs her and braw sabs John she thusHighlandman. began Tl'KE—“ O, an’ ye •were dead, Guicman,'* 1AThe lIiGHtAXl) Lawland laws lad hemy held lovg in was scorn born. j 218 BURNS’POEMS. 3iyEut gallanthe still brawwas faithfu’John Highlandnian. to his clan, CHORUS. Sing, ho,hey, my my braw braw John John Highlandman Highlandman ! WasThere’s match not fora lad my in John a’ the Highlandman. lan’ Wi’ his philibeg and tartan plaid, AndTlifct ladies’gude claymore hearts he down did trepan,by his side, iVly gallant braw John Highlandman.Sing, hey, &c. We ranged a’ from Tweed to Spey, ForAnd a liv’d Lalland like facelords he and feared ladies nane, gay; Aty gallant braw John Highlandman.Sing, hey, 6cc. They banish’d him beyond the sea, AdownBut ere mythe cheeksbud was the on pearls the tree, ran, Embracing my John Highlandman.Sing, hey, &c. But, oh ! they catch'd him at the last, ' AMy nd curse,upon bound him them in a dungeonevery one, fast; They’ve bang'd my brawSing, John hey, Highlandman Ac. A nd now a widow, I must mourn JsoThe comforts pleasures but that a heartywill ne’er can, return ; When i think on John Sing,Ilighlandman. hey, Ac. RECITATIVO. AWha pigmy us’d Scraper at trysts wi’ and his fairs fiddle, to druidic, burns’ poems. 213 Her strappin limb(He and reach’d gaucy naemiddle higher), Had hol’d his heartieAnd blawn’tlike a riddle, on fire. Wi’He croon’d hand on his haunch, gamut, and ane, upward twa, three. ee. Then, in an AriosoThe key, wee Apollo Set aff, wi’ AllegrettoIlis giga glee, solo. Titxe—“ Whistle o'er the Lave o't." IjT.TAnd gome wi’ ryke me up and to bedight my thatdear, tear, AndMay then whistle your owreevery thecare lave and o’t. fear CHonus. AndI am a’a fiddlerthe tunes to mythat trade, e’er I play'd, TheWas sweetest whistle still owre to wifethe lave or inaid, o’t. At kirns and weddings we’se be there, [' AndAre’ll O house ! sae about,nicely’s till we Daddie will fare Care ; Sing# whistle owre theI lavea , o'&c.. Sae merrily’s the banes we’ll pyke, J And sunat our oursels leisure, about when the ye dyke. like, AVell whistle owre theI am,lave &c.o't. ' Hut bless me wi’ your heav’n o’ charms, AndHunger, while cauld, I kittle and hair a’ sicon harms,thairms, May whistle owre theI lave am, o’t.&e. 220 burns’ poems. 11ECITATIVO. HerAs charms weel as had poor struck Gat-scraper a sturdy ; Caird, HeAnd taks draws the fiddler a roosty by rapier—the beard, HeTo swoor spit byhim a’ like was a swearing pliver, worth. UnlessRelinquish he wad her from for that ever. time forth Wi’Upon ghastly his hunkersee, poor bended,tweedle-dee AndAnd pray’d sae the for quarrelgrace, wi’ended. rueful face. ButWhen tho’ hisround little the heart tinker did pressed grieve her, HeWhen feign’d thus to snirtlethe Gaird in hisaddress’d sleeve, her : AIR. Tune—“ Clout the Cauldron.” My bonny lass, I work in brass, I’veA travell’dtinker is roundmy station all Christian ; ground I’veIn ta’enthis mythe occupationgold, I’ve been; enroll’d ButIn vain many they a noble search’d, squadron when ; off I march’d To go and clout I’vethe cauldron,ta’en the gold, &c. j DespiseWi’ a’ that his shrimp,noise and that caprin, wither’d imp, AndThe tak budget a share and wi’ the those apron that ; bear AndAnd by bythat that stowp, dear myKilbagie*, faith and houp, vourite« A peculiar with Poosie-Nansie’s sort of Whisky clubs. so called; a great fa burns’ POEMS. 221 If e’er ye want, or meet wi’ scant. May I ne’er wat Andmy craigie.by that stowp, &C. BECITATIVO. ; The Caird prevail’d—the unblushing fair !i PartlyIn his wi’ embraces love o’ercome sunk, sac fair, !i\ SirAnd Violino, partly with she anwas air drunk. |* Wish’dThat show’dunison betweena man o’ the spunk, pair, » And made the Tobottle their clunk health that night. S But hurchin Cupid shot a daft, !|The That tiddler play’d rak’d a dame her fore a shavie, and aft, ISlier Behint lord, thea wight chicken o’ Homer’s cavie. craft", | HeTho’ hirpl’d limping up, and wi’ lapthe likespavie, daft, [ And shor’d themTo Daintyboot that Davie night. | jHeAs was ever a care-defyingBacchus listed, blade 1Tho’ Fortune sair upon him laid, HeHis had heart nae wish,she ever but miss’d to be glad,it. HeNor hated want—but nought but—towhen he be thirsted; sad, And thus the MuseHis sang suggested dial night. ■ lecord.• Homer Is allowed to be the oldest ballad-singer on 222 burns’ poems. AIR. Tuxe—“ For a' that, and a' that." I amWi’ a gentlefolks,hard of no regard,and a’ that: ButFrae Homer-like, town to town the Iglowran draw that. byke CHORUS. ForAnd a’ that,twice and as meikle’sa’ that, a’ that; I’veI’ve lost wife but enough ane, I’ve for twaa’ that. behin’, I never drank the Muses’ stank, ButCastalia there itburn, streams, and anda’ that; richly reams. My Helicon I Forca’ that.a’ that, &c. Great love I bear to a’ the fair. ButTheir lordly humble will, Islave, hold andit still a’ that; A mortal sin toFor thraw a’ that, that. &c. In raptures sweet, this hour we meet, ButWi’ for mutual how lang love, the and Hie a’may that; stang, Let inclinationFor law a’ that. that, &c. TheirThey’ve tricks ta’en and mecraft in, hae and put a’ methat; daft, ButI likeclear the your jads decks, for a’ and that. “ Here’s the sex ForAnd a’ that,twice and as meikle’sa’ that. a’ that. MyThey’re dearest welcome blude, to till’t, do them for a’gude, that. burns’ poems. 22.*, RECITATIVO. SoShook sung with the ahard—and thunder of Nansie’s applause, wa’i TheyRe-echo’d loom'd fromtheir eachpocks, mouth and pawn’d ; their dud;!, TheyTo quenchscarcely theirleft toIowan co’er drouth. their fuds, ThenThe owre poet again,did request, the jovial thrang, ToA lowse ballad his o’ pack, the best; and wale a sang, HeBetween rising, rejoicing.his twa Deborahs, LooksImpatient round forhim, the and chorus. found them At It TnKE—“ Jolly Mortals, Jill your Glasses." SeeMark the oursmoking jovial bowl ragged before ring; us, RoundAnd andin raptures round takelet us up sing the :chorus, CHORUS. A Liberty’sfig for those a glorious by law protectedfeast! ! CourtsChurches for cowards built to were please erected, the priest. What is title ? what is treasure ? If Whatwe lead is areputation’s life of pleasure, care ? ’Tis no matter,A fig, how &c. or where ! With the ready trick and fable. AndRound at night, we wander in barn all or the stable, day ; Hug our doxiesA fig, on the hay. 22 i burns’ poems. Does the train-attended carriage DoesThro’ the tiresober country bed of lighter marriage rove ? Witness brighterA fig, scenes&c. of love ? Life is all a variorum, LetWe them regard cant not about how decorum it goes ; ' Who have charactersA fig, &c. to lose. Here’s to budgets, bags, and wallets! Here’sHere’s our to ragged all the bratswandering and callets train !! One and all Acry fig, out, &c. Amen ! AULD LANG SYNE. ShouldAnd never auld brought acquaintance to min’ be ? forgot ShouldAnd daysauld o’acquaintance lang syne ?be forgot, cuonrs. ForFor auld auld lang lang syne, syne, my dear, We’LlFor takauld a langcup o’syne. kindness yet We twa hae run about the braes, ButAnd we’ve pu’d wander’d the gowans mony fine; a weary foot Sin auld lang syne.For auld, &c. WeFrom twa morninhae paidl’t sun i’till the dine; burn, burns’ poems. £; But seas between us braid hae roar’d Sin auld lang syne. For auid, &c. And here’s a hand, my trusty fiere, AndAnd we’ll gie’s tak a handa right o’ guidthine; willie-waught, For auld lang syne.For auld, &c. And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp, AndAnd we’ll surely tak I’lla cup be o’ mine; kindness yet For auld lang syne.For auld, Ac. BANNOCKBURN. Robert Bruce's Address to his Army. Scots, wham wha haeBruce wi’ has Wallace aften ledbled, 4 WelcomeOr to glorious to your victorie.gory bed, SeeNow’s the the front day, o’ andbattle now’s lower; the hour ; SeeEdward approach ! chains proud andEdward’s slaveric power—. ! WhaW'ha willcan fillbe a traitorcoward’s knave grave ? ? Wha3’raitor sae base! coward as be ! a turnslave and ? flee ? WhaFreedom’s for Scotland’s sword will king strongly and law draw, Free-manCaledonian stand, ! on or wPfree-man me ! fa’ ? By oppression’s woes and pair :.! By your tons in servileK 2 chains l 226 burns’ poems. WeBut will they drain shall our he—shall dearest veins, he free l TyrantsLay the proudfall in usurpersevery foe low! ! Liberty’sforward in 1 everylet us Wow do, or! die ! FOR A’ THAT AND A’ THAT. Is Thatthere, hangs for honest his head, poverty, and a* that ? TheWe coward-slave, dare be poor wefor pass a’ that! him by. ForOur a’ that,toils obscure,and a’ that, and a’ that, TheThe rank man’s is but die the gowd guinea’s for a’ stamp.that. WhatWear tho’ hodden-grey, on hamely fareand wea’ that;dine, GieA foolsman’s their a man silks, for and a’ that;knaves their wine, ForTheir a’ that, tinsel and show, a’ that, and a’ that; TheIs honestking o’ man, man tho’for a’ e’er that. sae poor, YeWha see yon struts, birkie, and ca’dstares, a lord,and a’ that; Tho’He’s hundreds but a coof worship for a’ atthat: his word. ForHis a’ riband,that, and star, a’ that,and a’ that. TheHe man looks of and independent laughs at mind. a’ that. A Aprince marquis, can mak duke, a beltedand a’ knight,that; ButGuid an honestfaith he man’s mauna aboon fa’ that,his might, burns’ poems. 227 ForTheir a* that, dignities, and a’ andthat. a’ that. TheAre pith higher o’ sense, ranks and than pride a’ that. o’ worth. ThenAs comelet us itpray will that for a’come that, it may, ThatMay sense bear and the worthgree, ando’er a’ that.the earth, I ForIt’s a’ comingthat, and yet, a’ forthat. a’ that, ThatShall man brothers to man, be the for warlda’ that. o’er. THE BANKS O’ BOON. Tune—“ The Caledonian Hunt's Delight." YeHow banks can and ye bloombraes o’ sae bonnie fresh Boon,and fair! HowAnd can I yesae chant,weary, ye fu’ little o’ care! birds, Thou’ItThat wantonsbreak my thro’ heart, the thou flowering warbling thorn bird. ; ThouBeparted—never minds me o’ departedto return. joys, AftTo hae see I therov’d rose by and bonnie woodbine Boon, twine ; AndAnd ilka fondly bird saesang did o’ Iits o’ luve, mine. Wi’Fu’ lightsome sweet upon heart its Ithorny pu’d a tree rose, ; AndBut my ah fause 1 he luverleft the stole thorn my wi’ rose, me. FAREWELL TO AYRSHIRE. ScenesScenes ofthat woe former and scenesthoughts of pleasure,renew, 22S burns' poems* ScenesNow ofa sadwoe andand lastscenes adieu of pleasure,! BonnyFare Boon,thee weel sae beforesweet and1 gang gloamin, ! BonnyFirst Boon,I weav’d where, the rusticearly roaming,sang. Bowers,First inthralFdadieu, where this Love,heart o’decoying, mine, ThereSweets the that safest Mem’ry sweets ne’erenjoying,— shall tyne! Friends,Ye hae so render’d near my moments bosom ever, dear; But,Then alas the ! whenstroke, forc’d O how to sever,severe! FriendsTho’ ’tis! that doubly parting dear tear to mereserve ! it, CouldHow I muchthink happierI did deserve would it,I be ! it ScenesScones of thatwoe formerand scenes thoughts of pleasure. renew. ScenesNow ofa sadwoe andand lastscenes adieu of pleasure,! SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD. Tune-A>‘ Tibbie Fouler in the Ghn.,y W11.1.IEThe spot Wastle they ca’d dwalt it Linkumdoddie, on Tweed, WillieCou’d was stown a wabster a clue guid,wi’ ony bodie; HeO had Tinkler a wife Madgie was dour was and her din, mither; CHORUS. SicI wadna a wjfe gic as aWillie button had, for her* burns’ poems. 229 She has an ee, she has but ane. FiveThe rusty cat hasteeth, twa forbye the very a stump, colour ; A Awhiskin clapper beard tongue about wad her deave mou. a miller ; Her nose and'W' chinSic they a wife, threaten &c. ither ; She’s bow-hough’d, she’s hein shinn’d, She’sAe limpintwisted legright, a hand-breed she’s twisted shorter left, ; SheTo has balance a hump fair upon in ilka her quarterbreast, : The twin o’ that Sicupon a wife,her shouther&c. ; AuldAn’ baudrans wi’ her loof by the her ingleface a-washinsits, ; ButShe Willie’s dights herwife grunzie is nae sae wi’ trig, a hushion ; HerHer walie face nieves wad fyle like the midden-creels, Logan-water ; Sic1 wadna a wife gie as aWillie button had, for her. ON THE SEAS AND F£R AWAY. Turk—“ O'er the Hills, and far atea'." HowWhen can absent my frompoor heartmy sailor be glad, lad ? HowHe’s oncan the I the seas thought to meet forego, the foe ? StillLet memy wander,heart is letwith me my rove, love ; AreNightly with dreams him that’s and thoughtsfar away. by day 230 burns’ poems. CHORUS. On stormythe seas seas and andfar away.far away; AreNightly aye withdreams him and that’s thoughts far away. by day When in summer’s noon I fafnt. AsHaply weary in thisflocks scorching around mesun pant, Bullets,My sailor’s spare thund’ring my only atjoy his 1 gun : Bullets,Fate do withspare me my what darling you boymay, ! SpareOn but the him seas, that’s &c. far away ! At the starless midnight hour. AsWhen the ustorms inter rulesthe forest with tear.boundless power ; Andlistening thunders to the rend doubling the howling roar, air, AllSurging I can—I on the weep rocky and shore. pray, For hisOn wxalthe seas,that’s &c. far away. Peace, thy olive wand extend, AndMan bidwith wild brother war hisman ravage to meet, end, AndThen as may a brother heaven kindly with prosp’rous greet: gales ToFill mymy armssailor’s their welcome charge sails,convey. My dearOn thelad seas,that’s &c. far away. WILLIE BREW’D A PECK O’ MAUT. O,And Willie Rob andbrew’d Allan a pecko’maut.came to see; burns' poems. 231 ThreeYe wadnablither find hearts, in Christendie. that lee-lang night, CHOHITS. WeBut arena just fou, a drappie we’re noin ourthat ee;fou, TheAnd cock aye may we’ll craw, taste the the day barley may bree. daw, Here are we met, three merry boys, AndThree mony merry a night boys we’ve I trow merry are webeen. ; And mony maeWe wearena hope fou, to &c.be 1 It is the moon, I ken her horn, SheThat’s shines blinkin sae bright in the to liftwyle sae us hie; hame. But by my soothWe arena she’ll fou, wait &c. a wee 1 Wha first shall rise to gang awa, WhaA cuckold, last beside coward his chair loun shallis he fa*.! He is the kingWe amang arena fou,us three &c. ! JOHN ANDERSON MY JO. JohnWhen Anherson we were first my acquent. jo, John, YourYour locks bonnie were brow like wasthe raven.brent; ButYour now locks your arebrow like is thebald, snaw John, ; ButJohn blessings Anderson on your my jo.frosty pow, JohnWe Anderson clamb the my hill jo, thegither John, ; 232 burns’ poems. AndWe’ve mony had a cantywi' ane day, anithcr: John, IsowBut we hand maun in handtotter we’lldown, go. John, AndJohn sleep Anderson thegither my at jo.the foot, I LOVE MY JEAN. Tune—“ Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey." OrI a’dearly the airtslike the windwest, can blaw, ForThe there lassie the Ibonnie lo’e best: lassie lives, ThereAnd wildmony woods a hill grow, between; and rivers row, ButIs dayever and wi’ nightmy Jean. my fancy’s flight I seeI see her her in sweetthe dewy and flowers,fair : I hearI hear her her in charmthe tunefu’ the air birds, : There’sBy fountain, not a bonnie shaw, floweror green that ; springs There’sBut minds not a mebonnie o’ my bird Jean. that sings, THE BLUE-EYED LASSIE. Tune—“ The jtlathric o't." I gaedA gate, a waefu’I fear, gateI’ll dearly yestreen, jnie ; I gafTwa my lovely death een frae o’ twabonnie sweet blue. een, ’TwasHer notlips herlike golden roses wetringlets wi’ dew. bright, HerIt heavingwas her bosomcen sac lily-white bonnie blue. ;— burns’ poems. 233 SheShe talk'd, charm’d she mysmil’d, soul my 1 wistna heart howshe wyl’d,; AndCam aye frae the her stound, een saethe bonnie deadly blue. wound, ButShe’ll spare aiblins to speak, listen and to sparemy vow to speed: ; ShouldTo her she twa refuse, een saeI’ll bonnie lay my blue. dead MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. LINES ON"LORD AN INTERVIEW DAER. WITH IThis Rhymer wot yeRobin, all whom alias Burns,it concerns, A ne’erOctober to be twenty-third,forgotten day, Sae farI dinner’d I spreckled wi’ aup lord. the brae, I’veNay, been been at bitch-fou drticken ’mang•writers' godly feasts, priests, I’ve evenWi’ rev’rencejoin’d the be honour’d it spoken; jorum, WhenTheir mighty hydra Squireships drouth did of sloken. the quorum, ABut Lord— wi’ a Lord—standa Peer—an Earl’s out my son, shin, And Upsic ahigherjret Lord-—lang my Scotch bonnet; ells twa, Our AsPeerage I look he o’er o’erlooks my sonnet. them a’, But oh for Hogarth’s magic pow’r! To showAnd Sirhow Bardy’s he star’d willyart and stammer’d, glowr. 231 BURXS’ POEMS. When goavan, as if led wi’ branks, An’ stumpan’He in the onparlour his ploughman hammer’d. shanks, An’I sidling at his shelter’d lordship in steal’t a nook, a look ExceptLike good-sense some portentous and social omen glee. ; An’ (what1 marked surprised nought me) uncommon. modesty, TheI watch’d gentle the pride, symptoms the lordly o’ the state, Great, The Thefeint arroganta pride, assuming;nae pride had he. In'or sauce,Maix thannor statean honest that Iploughman. could see, HenceforthThen from histo meet Lordship with Iunconcern shall learn. Nae Onehcmcst rank worthy as well’s man another;need care, To meetFor hewith but noble meets youthful a brother. Daer, TO DR. BLACKLOCK. Ellisland, 21st Oct. 1750. AndWow, are but ye yourhale, letterand weel, made and me vauntie!cantio ; I kenn'd it still yourWad wee bring bit yejauntie to: Lord send you ayAnd as weel’s then ye’llI want do. ye, AndThe ill-thiefnever drink blaw be the near Heron his drouth!south ! burns’ poems. 233 He tald mysel byHe’d word tak o’ mymouth, letter; I lippen’d to the Andchiel bade in trouth, nae better. ButHad aiblinsat the timehonest some Master dainty Heron fair one. To ware his theologicAnd holycare on,study; And tir’d o’ saulsE’en to waste tried histhe learbody." on, ButI’m turnedwhat d’ye a gauger— think, my Peace trusty be fier,here ! Parnassian queens,Ye’ll I fear,now Idisdain fear, me. And then my fiftyWill pounds little again year me. Wha,Ye glaiket, by Castalia’s gleesome, wimplin daintie streamies, damies, Lowp, sing, and Yelave ken, your ye pretty ken. limbies. That strang necessity’Mang supreme sons o’ is,men. TheyI hae amaun wife haeand brose twa wee and laddies,brats o’ duddies ; Ye ken yoursels myI needna heart vaunt.right proud is, But I’ll sned besoms—thrawBefore they want.saugh woodies. LordI’m weary help mesick thro’ o’t latethis andwarld air o’ ! care ! Hot but I hae a richerThan monyshare ithers; But why should Andae man a’ menbetter brithers fare, ? various* Mr Heron,other works. author of the History of Sootland, and of 236 burns’ poems. Come,Thou stalkFirm o’ Resolve, carl-hemp take in thouman! the van, And let us mind,A faint lady heart fair; ne’er wan Wha does the utmostWill thatwhyles he can,do mair. (I’mRnt to scant conclude o’ verse, my andsilly scant rhyme, o’ time,) To make a happyTo'weans fire-side andclime wife. That’s the true pathosOf human and sublimelife. AndMy compliments eke the same to to sister honest Beckie; Lucky, I wat she is a daintyAs e’er chuckie, tread clay! And gratefully, myI’m gudeyour’s cockie. for ay. Robert Burns. POWERS CELESTIAL. PowersEver guards celestial, the virtuouswhose protection fair. WhileLet myin distantMary beclimes your I care; wander, LetFair her and form faultless sae fair as and your faultless. own; LetDraw my Mary’syour choicest kindred influence spirit down. MakeSoft the and gales peaceful you waftas her around breast; her BreathingSooth her in bosomthe breeze into thatrest; fans her, burns’ poems. 237 GuardianWhen inangels, distant O lands protect I roamher. t To.Make realms her unknown bosom still while my fate home exiles me, SKETCH.—NEW YEAR’S DAY. TO MRS. DUNI.OP. ToThis run day, the Timetwelvemonth’s winds th’ length exhausted again: chain. WithI see theardent old, eyes,bald-pated complexion fellow, sallow, AdjustTo wheel the the unimpair’d equal, dull machine, routine. Jg TheIn vain absent assail lover, him minorwith their heir, prayer. , DeafNor makes as my thefriend, hour he one sees moment them press.less. TheWill happyyou (the tenants Major’s share with his therounds; hounds. AndCoila’s blooming fair Rachel’s Keith’s care engaged to-day. with Gray,) ThatFrom grandchild’shousewife cares cap awill minute do to-morrow— borrow— AndThis joinday’s with propitious me a moralizing, to be wise in. First,“ Another what year did yesternightis gone for ever.”deliver ? And“ The what passing is this moment’s day’s strong all we suggestion rest on I” ? OrRest why on— regard for what the passing? what doyear we ? here ? AddWill toTime, our dateamus’d one withminute proverb’d more ? lore, ARepose few days us in may—a the silent few dust. years must— the* Poet'sProbably departure written toon the Highland West Indies. Mary, on the eve Of S38 EURNS’ POEMS. Then is it wise to damp our bliss ? TheYes—all voice such of Nature reasonings loudly are cries, amiss ! AndThat manysomething a message in us fromnever the dies: skies, HangThat onmatters this frail, of eternal uncertain weight; state. MustThat futuretake its life, hue in from worlds this unknown, alone ; -WhetherOr dark as as misery’s heavenly woful glory night.— bright. SinceOn this then, poor my being honour’d, all depends, first of friends. AndI /et us live th’ as important those that now never employ, die. WitnessTho’ you, that with filial days circle and round,honours crown’d, A(A sight sight pale lifers envy sorrows to convulse,) to repulse, Yourself,Others now you claim wait your your chief bright regard; reward. The following Poem was written to a Gen- tleman who had sent him a Newspaper, and offered to continue it free of Expense, AndKind faith, Sir, toI’ve me, read ’twas your really paper new through, ! ThisHow monyguessed a dayye, Sir,I’ve whatgrain’d maist and I gaunted,wanted ? OrTo whatken what the drumlieFrench Dutchmischief werftdoin; was brewin. IfThat Venus vile yetdoup-skelper, had got his Emperor nose off; Joseph, AtweenOr how the collieshangieRussians and worksthe Turks; WouldOr if the play Swede, anither before Charles lie halt. the twalt; burns’ poems. 239 If Denmark, any body spak o’t! OrHow Poland, cut-throat wha Prussianhad now bladesthe tack were o't: hingin; IfHow Spaniard, libbet Italy Portuguese, was singin or Swiss,; OrWere how sayin our ormerry takin lads aught at hame, amiss; InHow Britain’s royal George, court kept the upLord the o’er game him! : WasIf sleekit managing Chatham St. Stephen’sWill was livin,quorum; HowOr glaikit daddie Charlie Burke got the his plea nieve was incookin, ; HowIf Warren cesses, Hasting’s stents, and neck fees was were yeukin rax’d, ; OrThe if news bare o’a—s princes, yet were dukes, tax’d and : earls, IfPimps, that'daft sharpers, buckie, bawds, Geordie and W opera-girls; * * * s, OrWas if threshinhe grown still^at oughtlins hizzie’s douser, tails; AndA’ this no anda perfect mair kintraI never cooser. heard of; And,So gratefu’ but for back you, your I might news despair’d I send you. of; AndJSUislund, pray a’ guidMonday things Morning, may attend 1790. you. ADDRESS TO THE TOOTHACII. MyThat curse shoots upon my thytortur’d venom’d gums stang, alang; And through myWi’ lugs gnawing gies mOny vengeance a twang, ; Tearing my nervesLike wi’ racking bitter pang,engines ! RheumaticsWhen fevers gnaw, burn, or cholicor ague squeezes, freezes. 140 BURNS* POEMS. Our neighbour’s Wi’sympathy pitying may moan; ease us, But thee—thou hellAy mockso’ a’ diseases, oux groan l I throwA down the my wee beard stools the o’er slavers the mickle.trickle ! As round the lireTo the see giglets me loup keckle. ; While raving madWere I wish in theira heckle doup. 111O* har’sts, a' the daftnum’rous bargains, human cutty dools, stools, < >r worthy friendsSad rak’d sight i’ tothe see mools. 1 The tricks11 o*' knaves,Thou or bear’st fash o’ the tools, gree. WhenceWhere’er a’ the that tones place o’ bemisery priests yell. ca’ hell, Andv ranked- plaguesIn dreadfu’ their numbers raw. tell, Thou, TOOXHach,Amang surely them bear’st a’! the bell ThatO thou gars grimthe notes mischief-making of discord squeel. chiel, Till daft mankindIn aftgore dance a shoe-thick a reel, Cie a’ the faes o’A Scotland’s towmond’s weal Toothach. THE END. Printed by J. Kendiew, York, 1