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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Robert Burns + How To Know Him + +Author: William Allan Neilson + +Release Date: May 14, 2006 [EBook #18388] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBERT BURNS *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Laura Wisewell and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1> ROBERT BURNS<br /><br /> +<small> +HOW TO KNOW HIM<br /> +</small> +</h1> +<div class="center" style="font-weight:bold; font-size:larger;"> + +<p> +<i>By</i><br /> + WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON<br /> + Professor of English, Harvard University</p> + +<p> <i>Author of</i> +<br /> Essentials of Poetry, etc.</p> +<p> +WITH PORTRAIT</p> + + <p>INDIANAPOLIS<br /> + THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY<br /> + PUBLISHERS</p></div> + <div class="center"> + <p class="smcap">Copyright 1917<br /> + The Bobbs-Merrill Company</p> + <p>PRESS OF <br />BRAUNWORTH & CO. <br />BOOK MANUFACTURERS<br /> + BROOKLYN, N.Y.</p> + + <p style="margin:4em;">TO<br /><big>MY BROTHER</big></p> +<a href="images/portrait-h.jpg"><img src="images/portrait-t.jpg" + alt="The Nasmyth Portrait of Robert Burns." + title="The Nasmyth Portrait of Robert Burns." /></a> + <p style="margin-top:0; font-size:smaller;">The Nasmyth Portrait of <span class="smcap">Robert Burns</span>.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2>LIST OF POEMS</h2> + +<ul> +<li> <span class="ralign smcap">page</span> </li> +<li><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL">Address to the Deil</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS">Address to the Unco Guid</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#AE_FOND_KISS">Ae Fond Kiss</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#AFTON_WATER">Afton Water</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_AULD_FARMERS_NEW-YEAR_MORNING_SALUTATION_TO_HIS_AULD_MARE">Auld Farmer's New-Year Morning Salutation, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#AULD_LANG_SYNE">Auld Lang Syne</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_100">100</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#AULD_ROB_MORRIS">Auld Rob Morris</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#BANNOCKS_O_BARLEY">Bannocks o' Barley</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#A_BARDS_EPITAPH">Bard's Epitaph, A</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#BESSY_AND_HER_SPINNIN-WHEEL">Bessy and Her Spinnin'-Wheel</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_BLUE-EYED_LASSIE">Blue-Eyed Lassie, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_BONNIE_LAD_THATS_FAR_AWA">Bonnie Lad that's Far Awa, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#BONNIE_LESLEY">Bonnie Lesley</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#BRAW_BRAW_LADS">Braw Braw Lads</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#CA_THE_YOWES">Ca' the Yowes</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#CHARLIE_HES_MY_DARLING">Charlie He's My Darling</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#CLARINDA">Clarinda</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#COME_BOAT_ME_OER_TO_CHARLIE">Come Boat Me o'er to Charlie</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_163">163</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#COMIN_THROUGH_THE_RYE">Comin' through the Rye</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#CONTENTED_WI_LITTLE">Contented wi' Little</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">Cotter's Saturday Night, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#DEATH_AND_DOCTOR_HORNBOOK">Death and Doctor Hornbook</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_DEATH_AND_DYING_WORDS_OF_POOR_MAILIE_THE_AUTHORS_ONLY_PET_YOWE">Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_DEILS_AWA_WI_TH_EXCISEMAN">De'il's Awa wi' th' Exciseman, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_DEUKS_DANG_OER_MY_DADDIE">Deuk's Dang o'er My Daddie, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#DUNCAN_DAVISON">Duncan Davison</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#DUNCAN_GRAY">Duncan Gray</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#ELEGY_ON_CAPT_MATTHEW_HENDERSON">Elegy on Capt. Matthew Henderson</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_A_YOUNG_FRIEND">Epistle to a Young Friend</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_DAVIE_A_BROTHER_POET">Epistle to Davie</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#FOR_THE_SAKE_O_SOMEBODY">For the Sake o' Somebody</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_GLOOMY_NIGHT">Gloomy Night, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#GO_FETCH_TO_ME_A_PINT_O_WINE">Go Fetch to Me a Pint o' Wine</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#GREEN_GROW_THE_RASHES">Green Grow the Rashes</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#HAD_I_THE_WYTE">Had I the Wyte?</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#HALLOWEEN">Halloween</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#HANDSOME_NELL">Handsome Nell</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_HIGHLAND_BALOU">Highland Balou, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_HIGHLAND_LADDIE">Highland Laddie, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#HIGHLAND_MARY">Highland Mary</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_HOLY_FAIR">Holy Fair, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#HOLY_WILLIES_PRAYER">Holy Willie's Prayer</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#HOW_LANG_AND_DREARY">How Lang and Dreary</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#I_HAE_A_WIFE">I Hae a Wife</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#I_HAE_BEEN_AT_CROOKIEDEN">I Hae Been at Crookieden</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#IM_OWRE_YOUNG_TO_MARRY_YET">I'm Owre Young to Marry Yet</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#IT_WAS_A_FOR_OUR_RIGHTFU_KING">It Was a' for Our Rightfu' King</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_162">162</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO">John Anderson, My Jo</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS">Jolly Beggars, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#KENMURES_ON_AND_AWA">Kenmure's On and Awa</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#LASSIE_WI_THE_LINT-WHITE_LOCKS">Lassie wi' the Lint-White Locks</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#LAST_MAY_A_BRAW_WOOER">Last May a Braw Wooer</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_LEA-RIG">Lea-Rig, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MACPHERSONS_FAREWELL">MacPherson's Farewell</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#A_MANS_A_MAN_FOR_A_THAT">Man's a Man for a' that, A</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MARY_MORISON">Mary Morison</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MONTGOMERIES_PEGGY">Montgomerie's Peggy</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MY_FATHER_WAS_A_FARMER">My Father Was a Farmer</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MY_HEARTS_IN_THE_HIGHLANDS">My Heart's in the Highlands</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MY_LOVE_IS_LIKE_A_RED_RED_ROSE">My Love Is Like a Red Red Rose</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MY_LOVE_SHES_BUT_A_LASSIE_YET">My Love She's but a Lassie Yet</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MY_NANNIE_O">My Nannie O</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MY_NANNIES_AWA">My Nannie's Awa</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#MY_WIFES_A_WINSOME_WEE_THING">My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#O_FOR_ANE_AN_TWENTY_TAM">O for Ane an' Twenty, Tam!</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#O_MERRY_HAE_I_BEEN">O Merry Hae I Been</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#O_THIS_IS_NO_MY_AIN_LASSIE">O This Is No My Ain Lassie</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#O_WERT_THOU_IN_THE_CAULD_BLAST">O, Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#OF_A_THE_AIRTS">Of a' the Airts</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_106">106</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#ON_A_SCOTCH_BARD_GONE_TO_THE_WEST_INDIES">On a Scotch Bard, Gone to the West Indies</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#ON_JOHN_DOVE_INNKEEPER">On John Dove, Innkeeper</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#OPEN_THE_DOOR_TO_ME_O">Open the Door to Me, O!</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_POETS_WELCOME_TO_HIS_LOVE-BEGOTTEN_DAUGHTER">Poet's Welcome to His Love-Begotten Daughter, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#POOR_MAILIES_ELEGY">Poor Mailie's Elegy</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#POORTITH_CAULD">Poortith Cauld</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#A_PRAYER_IN_THE_PROSPECT_OF_DEATH">Prayer in the Prospect of Death, A</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_RANTIN_DOG_THE_DADDIE_OT">Rantin' Dog the Daddie o't, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_RIGS_O_BARLEY">Rigs o' Barley, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#SCOTCH_DRINK">Scotch Drink</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#SCOTS_WHA_HAE">Scots, Wha Hae</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#SIMMERS_A_PLEASANT_TIME">Simmer's a Pleasant Time</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TAM_GLEN">Tam Glen</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TAM_O_SHANTER">Tam o' Shanter</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TAM_SAMSONS_ELEGY">Tam Samson's Elegy</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THERE_WAS_A_LAD">There Was a Lad</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THERELL_NEVER_BE_PEACE_TILL_JAMIE_COMES_HAME">There'll Never Be Peace till Jamie Comes Hame</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TO_A_HAGGIS">To a Haggis</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_306">306</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TO_A_LOUSE">To a Louse</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TO_A_MOUNTAIN_DAISY">To a Mountain Daisy</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TO_A_MOUSE">To a Mouse</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TO_DAUNTON_ME">To Daunton Me</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TO_MARY_IN_HEAVEN">To Mary in Heaven</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#TO_THE_REV_JOHN_MMATH">To the Rev. John McMath</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_TWA_DOGS">Twa Dogs, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#WANDERING_WILLIE">Wandering Willie</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#THE_WEARY_PUND_O_TOW">Weary Pund o' Tow, The</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#WHA_IS_THAT_AT_MY_BOWER_DOOR">Wha Is that at My Bower Door?</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#WHAT_CAN_A_YOUNG_LASSIE">What Can a Young Lassie</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#WHISTLE_AND_ILL_COME_TO_YE_MY_LAD">Whistle, and I'll Come to Ye, My Lad</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#WILL_YE_GO_TO_THE_INDIES_MY_MARY">Will Ye Go to the Indies, My Mary?</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#WILLIE_BREWD_A_PECK_O_MAUT">Willie Brew'd a Peck o' Maut</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#WILLIES_WIFE">Willie's Wife</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#YE_BANKS_AND_BRAES">Ye Banks and Braes</a> (two versions) <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></span> </li> +<li><a href="#YESTREEN_I_HAD_A_PINT_O_WINE">Yestreen I Had a Pint o' Wine</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></span> </li> +</ul> + + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<ul class="preol"><li class="off"><span class="lalign smcap">chapter</span> <span class="ralign smcap">page</span> </li></ul> +<ol class="TOC"> +<li><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Biography</a></span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></span> + <ol style="margin-left:2em;"><li> <a href="#SECTION1">Alloway, Mount Oliphant, and Lochlea</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></span> </li> + <li><a href="#SECTION2">Mossgiel</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></span> </li> + <li><a href="#SECTION3">Edinburgh</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></span> </li> + <li><a href="#SECTION4">Ellisland</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></span> </li> + <li><a href="#SECTION5">Dumfries</a> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></span> </li></ol></li> + + <li><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Inheritance: Language and Literature</a></span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></span> </li> + + <li><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Burns and Scottish Song</a></span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></span> </li> + + <li><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Satires and Epistles</a></span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></span> </li> + + <li><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Descriptive and Narrative Poetry</a></span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></span> </li> + + <li><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">Conclusion</a></span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_310">310</a></span> </li> + + <li class="off"><span class="smcap"><a href="#INDEX">Index</a></span> <span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_325">325</a></span> </li> +</ol> + +<hr style="width: 65%; margin:4em auto 4em auto;" /> +<h1><a name="ROBERT_BURNS" id="ROBERT_BURNS"></a>ROBERT BURNS</h1> +<hr style="width: 65%; margin:4em auto 4em auto;" /> + +<h2><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /><br />BIOGRAPHY</h2> + + +<blockquote><p>“I have not the most distant pretence to what the pye-coated +guardians of Escutcheons call a Gentleman. When at Edinburgh last +winter, I got acquainted at the Herald's office; and looking thro' +the granary of honors, I there found almost every name in the +kingdom; but for me,</p> + +<p class="center"> +My ancient but ignoble blood<br /> +Has crept thro' scoundrels since the flood. +</p> + +<p>Gules, purpure, argent, etc., quite disowned me. My forefathers +rented land of the famous, noble Keiths of Marshal, and had the +honor to share their fate. I do not use the word ‘honor’ with any +reference to political principles: <i>loyal</i> and <i>disloyal</i> I take +to be merely relative terms in that ancient and formidable court +known in this country by the name of ‘club-law.’ Those who dare +welcome Ruin and shake hands with Infamy, for <a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a>what they believe +sincerely to be the cause of their God or their King, are—as Mark +Antony in <i>Shakspear</i> says of Brutus and Cassius—‘honorable men.’ +I mention this circumstance because it threw my Father on the +world at large; where, after many years' wanderings and +sojournings, he picked up a pretty large quantity of observation +and experience, to which I am indebted for most of my pretensions +to Wisdom. I have met with few who understood Men, their manners +and their ways, equal to him; but stubborn, ungainly Integrity, +and headlong, ungovernable Irascibility, are disqualifying +circumstances; consequently, I was born, a very poor man's son.”</p> + +<p>“You can now, Sir, form a pretty near guess of what sort of Wight +he is, whom for some time you have honored with your +correspondence. That Whim and Fancy, keen sensibility and riotous +passions, may still make him zig-zag in his future path of life is +very probable; but, come what will, I shall answer for him—the +most determinate integrity and honor [shall ever characterise +him]; and though his evil star should again blaze in his meridian +with tenfold more direful influence, he may reluctantly tax +friendship with pity, but no more.”</p></blockquote> +<p><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a>These two paragraphs form respectively the beginning and the end of a +long autobiographical letter written by Robert Burns to Doctor John +Moore, physician and novelist. At the time they were composed, the +poet had just returned to his native county after the triumphant +season in Edinburgh that formed the climax of his career. But no +detailed knowledge of circumstances is necessary to rouse interest in +a man who wrote like that. You may be offended by the +self-consciousness and the swagger, or you may be charmed by the +frankness and dash, but you can not remain indifferent. Burns had many +moods besides those reflected in these sentences, but here we can see +as vividly as in any of his poetry the fundamental characteristics of +the man—sensitive, passionate, independent, and as proud as +Lucifer—whose life and work are the subject of this volume.</p> + + +<h3><a name="SECTION1" id="SECTION1"></a>1. Alloway, Mount Oliphant, and Lochlea</h3> + +<p>William Burnes, the father of the poet, came of a family of farmers +and gardeners in the county of Kincardine, on the east coast of +Scotland. At the age of twenty-seven, he left his native district for +the south; and when Robert,<a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a> his eldest child, was born on January 25, +1759, William was employed as gardener to the provost of Ayr. He had +besides leased some seven acres of land, of which he planned to make a +nursery and market-garden, in the neighboring parish of Alloway; and +there near the Brig o' Doon built with his own hands the clay cottage +now known to literary pilgrims as the birthplace of Burns. His wife, +Agnes Brown, the daughter of an Ayrshire farmer, bore him, besides +Robert, three sons and three daughters. In order to keep his sons at +home instead of sending them out as farm-laborers, the elder Burnes +rented in 1766 the farm of Mount Oliphant, and stocked it on borrowed +money. The venture did not prosper, and on a change of landlords the +family fell into the hands of a merciless agent, whose bullying the +poet later avenged by the portrait of the factor in <i><a href="#THE_TWA_DOGS">The Twa Dogs</a></i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I've noticed, on our Laird's court-day,—</div> +<div class="i0">And mony a time my heart's been wae,—</div> +<div class="i0">Poor tenant bodies, scant o' cash,</div> +<div class="i0">How they maun thole a factor's snash;</div> +<div class="i0">He'll stamp and threaten, curse and swear,</div> +<div class="i0">He'll apprehend them, poind their gear;</div> +<div class="i0">While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble,</div> +<div class="i0">And hear it a', and fear and tremble!</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a>In 1777 Mount Oliphant was exchanged for the farm of Lochlea, about +ten miles away, and here William Burnes labored for the rest of his +life. The farm was poor, and with all he could do it was hard to keep +his head above water. His health was failing, he was harassed with +debts, and in 1784 in the midst of a lawsuit about his lease, he died.</p> + +<p>In spite of his struggle for a bare subsistence, the elder Burnes had +not neglected the education of his children. Before he was six, Robert +was sent to a small school at Alloway Mill, and soon after his father +joined with a few neighbors to engage a young man named John Murdoch +to teach their children in a room in the village. This arrangement +continued for two years and a half, when, Murdoch having been called +elsewhere, the father undertook the task of education himself. The +regular instruction was confined chiefly to the long winter evenings, +but quite as important as this was the intercourse between father and +sons as they went about their work.</p> + +<blockquote><p>“My father,” says the poet's brother Gilbert, “was for some time +almost the only companion we had. He conversed familiarly on all +subjects<a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a> with us, as if we had been men; and was at great pains, +as we accompanied him in the labours of the farm, to lead the +conversation to such subjects as might tend to increase our +knowledge, or confirm our virtuous habits. He borrowed Salmon's +<i>Geographical Grammar</i> for us, and endeavoured to make us +acquainted with the situation and history of the different +countries in the world; while, from a book-society in Ayr, he +procured for us Derham's <i>Physics and Astro-Theology</i>, and Ray's +<i>Wisdom of God in the Creation</i>, to give us some idea of astronomy +and natural history. Robert read all these books with an avidity +and industry scarcely to be equalled. My father had been a +subscriber to Stackhouse's <i>History of the Bible</i> ...; from this +Robert collected a competent knowledge of ancient history; for no +book was so voluminous as to slacken his industry, or so +antiquated as to dampen his researches. A brother of my mother, +who had lived with us some time, and had learned some arithmetic +by our winter evening's candle, went into a book-seller's shop in +Ayr to purchase the <i>Ready Reckoner, or Tradesman's Sure Guide</i>, +and a book to teach him to write letters. Luckily, in place of the +<i>Complete Letter-Writer</i>, he got by mistake a<a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a> small collection of +letters by the most eminent writers, with a few sensible +directions for attaining an easy epistolary style. This book was +to Robert of the greatest consequence. It inspired him with a +strong desire to excel in letter-writing, while it furnished him +with models by some of the first writers in our language.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>Interesting as are the details as to the antiquated manuals from which +Burns gathered his general information, it is more important to note +the more personal implications in this account. Respect for learning +has long been wide-spread among the peasantry of Scotland, but it is +evident that William Burnes was intellectually far above the average +of his class. The schoolmaster Murdoch has left a portrait of him in +which he not only extols his virtues as a man but emphasizes his zest +for things of the mind, and states that “he spoke the English language +with more propriety—both with respect to diction and +pronunciation—than any man I ever knew, with no greater advantages.” +Though tender and affectionate, he seems to have inspired both wife +and children with a reverence amounting to awe, and he struck +strangers as reserved and austere. He recog<a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>nized in Robert traces of +extraordinary gifts, but he did not hide from him the fact that his +son's temperament gave him anxiety for his future. Mrs. Burnes was a +devoted wife and mother, by no means her husband's intellectual equal, +but vivacious and quick-tempered, with a memory stored with the song +and legend of the country-side. Other details can be filled in from +the poet's own picture of his father's household as given with little +or no idealization in <i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday Night</a></i>.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT" id="THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT"></a>THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend!</div> +<div class="i4">No mercenary bard his homage pays:</div> +<div class="i2">With honest pride I scorn each selfish end,</div> +<div class="i4">My dearest meed a friend's esteem and praise:</div> +<div class="i4">To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,</div> +<div class="i2">The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene;</div> +<div class="i4">The native feelings strong, the guileless ways;</div> +<div class="i2">What Aiken in a cottage would have been—</div> +<div class="i0">Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">November chill blaws load wi' angry sough; +<span class="sidenote">wail</span> </div> +<div class="i4">The shortening winter-day is near a close;</div> +<div class="i2">The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh;</div> +<div class="i4">The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose:</div> +<div class="i4">The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes,</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>This night his weekly moil is at an end,</div> +<div class="i4">Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes,</div> +<div class="i2">Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend,</div> +<div class="i0">And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">At length his lonely cot appears in view,</div> +<div class="i4">Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;</div> +<div class="i2">Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin', stacher through <span class="sidenote">stagger</span> </div> +<div class="i4">To meet their dad, wi' flichterin' noise an' glee. <span class="sidenote">fluttering</span> </div> +<div class="i4">His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnilie, <span class="sidenote">fire</span> </div> +<div class="i2">His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile,</div> +<div class="i4">The lisping infant prattling on his knee,</div> +<div class="i2">Does a' his weary kiaugh and care beguile, <span class="sidenote">worry</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' makes him quite forget his labour an' his toil.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in, <span class="sidenote">Soon</span> </div> +<div class="i4">At service out, amang the farmers roun';</div> +<div class="i2">Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin <span class="sidenote">drive, heedful run</span> </div> +<div class="i4">A cannie errand to a neibor town: <span class="sidenote">quiet</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman-grown,</div> +<div class="i2">In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original reads 'he'">her</ins> e'e, <span class="sidenote">eye</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Comes hame, perhaps to shew a braw new gown, <span class="sidenote">fine</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee, <span class="sidenote">hard-won wages</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">With joy unfeign'd brothers and sisters meet,</div> +<div class="i4">An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers: <span class="sidenote">asks</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnoticed fleet;</div> +<div class="i4">Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears; <span class="sidenote">wonders</span> </div> +<div class="i4">The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years;</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>Anticipation forward points the view.</div> +<div class="i4">The mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers,</div> +<div class="i2">Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; <span class="sidenote">Makes old clothes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The father mixes a' wi' admonition due.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Their master's an' their mistress's command</div> +<div class="i4">The younkers a' are warnèd to obey; <span class="sidenote">youngsters</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' mind their labours wi' an eydent hand, <span class="sidenote">diligent</span> </div> +<div class="i4">An' ne'er, tho' out o' sight, to jauk or play: <span class="sidenote">trifle</span> </div> +<div class="i4">‘And O! be sure to fear the Lord alway,</div> +<div class="i2">An' mind your duty, duly, morn an' night!</div> +<div class="i4">Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray, <span class="sidenote">go</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Implore His counsel and assisting might:</div> +<div class="i0">They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">But hark! a rap comes gently to the door;</div> +<div class="i4">Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, <span class="sidenote">knows</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Tells how a neibor lad cam o'er the moor,</div> +<div class="i4">To do some errands, and convoy her hame.</div> +<div class="i4">The wily mother sees the conscious flame</div> +<div class="i2">Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek;</div> +<div class="i4">Wi' heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name,</div> +<div class="i2">While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak; <span class="sidenote">half</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild worthless rake.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Wi' kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben; <span class="sidenote">in</span> </div> +<div class="i4">A strappin' youth; he takes the mother's eye;</div> +<div class="i2">Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en;</div> +<div class="i4">The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. <span class="sidenote">chats, cows</span> </div> +<div class="i4">The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy,</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave; <span class="sidenote">shy, bashful</span> </div> +<div class="i4">The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy</div> +<div class="i2">What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave;</div> +<div class="i0">Weel-pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. <span class="sidenote">child, rest</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">O happy love! where love like this is found;</div> +<div class="i4">O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare!</div> +<div class="i2">I've pacèd much this weary mortal round,</div> +<div class="i4">And sage experience bids me this declare:—</div> +<div class="i4">‘If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,</div> +<div class="i2">One cordial in this melancholy vale,</div> +<div class="i4">'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair</div> +<div class="i2">In other's arms breathe out the tender tale,</div> +<div class="i0">Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Is there, in human form, that bears a heart—</div> +<div class="i4">A wretch, a villain, lost to love and truth—</div> +<div class="i2">That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,</div> +<div class="i4">Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth?</div> +<div class="i4">Curse on his perjur'd arts, dissembling, smooth!</div> +<div class="i2">Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exil'd?</div> +<div class="i4">Is there no pity, no relenting ruth,</div> +<div class="i2">Points to the parents fondling o'er their child?</div> +<div class="i0">Then paints the ruin'd maid, and their distraction wild?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">But now the supper crowns their simple board,</div> +<div class="i4">The halesome parritch, chief of Scotia's food: <span class="sidenote">wholesome</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The sowpe their only hawkie does afford, <span class="sidenote">milk, cow</span> </div> +<div class="i4">That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood; <span class="sidenote">beyond, partition, cud</span> </div> +<div class="i4">The dame brings forth in complimental mood,</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell; <span class="sidenote">well-saved cheese, strong</span> </div> +<div class="i4">And aft he's prest, and aft he ca's it good;</div> +<div class="i2">The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell</div> +<div class="i0">How 'twas a towmond auld sin' lint was i' the bell. <span class="sidenote">twelve-month, flax, flower</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face</div> +<div class="i4">They round the ingle form a circle wide;</div> +<div class="i2">The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,</div> +<div class="i4">The big ha'-bible, ance his father's pride: <span class="sidenote">family-Bible</span> </div> +<div class="i4">His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,</div> +<div class="i2">His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare; <span class="sidenote">gray hair on temples</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide—</div> +<div class="i2">He wales a portion with judicious care, <span class="sidenote">chooses</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And ‘Let us worship God!’ he says with solemn air.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">They chant their artless notes in simple guise;</div> +<div class="i4">They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim;</div> +<div class="i2">Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise,</div> +<div class="i4">Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name;</div> +<div class="i4">Or noble Elgin beets the heav'nward flame, <span class="sidenote">fans</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays:</div> +<div class="i4">Compared with these, Italian trills are tame;</div> +<div class="i2">The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise;</div> +<div class="i0">Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise. <span class="sidenote">No, have</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">The priest-like father reads the sacred page,</div> +<div class="i4">How Abram was the friend of God on high;</div> +<div class="i2">Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage</div> +<div class="i4">With Amalek's ungracious progeny;</div> +<div class="i4">Or how the royal bard did groaning lie</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire;</div> +<div class="i4">Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry;</div> +<div class="i2">Or rapt Isaiah's wild seraphic fire;</div> +<div class="i0">Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,</div> +<div class="i4">How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed;</div> +<div class="i2">How He who bore in Heaven the second name</div> +<div class="i4">Had not on earth whereon to lay His head;</div> +<div class="i4">How His first followers and servants sped;</div> +<div class="i2">The precepts sage they wrote to many a land:</div> +<div class="i4">How he, who lone in Patmos banishèd,</div> +<div class="i2">Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand,</div> +<div class="i0">And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King</div> +<div class="i4">The saint, the father, and the husband prays:</div> +<div class="i2">Hope ‘springs exulting on triumphant wing’</div> +<div class="i4">That thus they all shall meet in future days:</div> +<div class="i4">There ever bask in uncreated rays,</div> +<div class="i2">No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear,</div> +<div class="i4">Together hymning their Creator's praise,</div> +<div class="i2">In such society, yet still more dear;</div> +<div class="i0">While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride,</div> +<div class="i4">In all the pomp of method and of art,</div> +<div class="i2">When men display to congregations wide</div> +<div class="i4">Devotion's every grace, except the heart!</div> +<div class="i4">The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert,</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole;</div> +<div class="i4">But haply, in some cottage far apart,</div> +<div class="i2">May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul;</div> +<div class="i0">And in His Book of Life the inmates poor enrol.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Then homeward all take off their several way;</div> +<div class="i4">The youngling cottagers retire to rest:</div> +<div class="i2">The parent-pair their secret homage pay,</div> +<div class="i4">And proffer up to Heav'n the warm request,</div> +<div class="i4">That He who stills the raven's clamorous nest,</div> +<div class="i2">And decks the lily fair in flowery pride,</div> +<div class="i4">Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best,</div> +<div class="i2">For them and for their little ones provide;</div> +<div class="i0">But chiefly in their hearts with grace divine preside.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs,</div> +<div class="i4">That makes her loved at home, revered abroad:</div> +<div class="i2">Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,</div> +<div class="i4">‘An honest man's the noblest work of God;’</div> +<div class="i4">And certes, in fair Virtue's heavenly road,</div> +<div class="i2">The cottage leaves the palace far behind;</div> +<div class="i4">What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load,</div> +<div class="i2">Disguising oft the wretch of human kind,</div> +<div class="i0">Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!</div> +<div class="i4">For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent!</div> +<div class="i2">Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil</div> +<div class="i4">Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!</div> +<div class="i4">And O may Heaven their simple lives prevent</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>From luxury's contagion, weak and vile;</div> +<div class="i4">Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,</div> +<div class="i2">A virtuous populace may rise the while,</div> +<div class="i0">And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved isle.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">O Thou! who poured the patriotic tide</div> +<div class="i4">That streamed thro' Wallace's undaunted heart,</div> +<div class="i2">Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride,</div> +<div class="i4">Or nobly die—the second glorious part,</div> +<div class="i4">(The patriot's God, peculiarly thou art,</div> +<div class="i2">His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!)</div> +<div class="i4">O never, never, Scotia's realm desert;</div> +<div class="i2">But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard,</div> +<div class="i0">In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>No less impressive than that of his father is the intellectual hunger +of the future poet himself. We have had Gilbert's testimony to the +eagerness with which he devoured such books as came within his reach, +and the use he made of his later fragments of schooling points the +same way. He had a quarter at the parish school of Dalrymple when he +was thirteen; and in the following summer he attended the school at +Ayr under his former Alloway instructor. Murdoch's own account of +these three weeks gives an idea of Burns's quickness of apprehension; +and the style of it is worth noting with reference to the +characteristics of the poet's own prose.</p> + +<blockquote><p><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>“In 1773,” says Murdoch, “Robert Burns came to board and lodge +with me, for the purpose of revising English grammar, etc., that +he might be better qualified to instruct his brothers and sisters +at home. He was now with me day and night, in school, at all +meals, and in all my walks. At the end of one week, I told him as +he was now pretty much master of the parts of speech, etc., I +should like to teach him something of French pronunciation, that +when he should meet with the name of a French town, ship, officer, +or the like, in the newspapers, he might be able to pronounce it +something like a French word. Robert was glad to hear this +proposal, and immediately we attacked the French with great +courage.</p> + +<p>“Now there was little else to be heard but the declension of +nouns, the conjugation of verbs, etc. When walking together, and +even at meals, I was constantly telling him the names of different +objects, as they presented themselves, in French; so that he was +hourly laying in a stock of words, and sometimes little phrases. +In short, he took such pleasure in learning, and I in teaching, +that it was difficult to say which of the two was most zealous in +the business; and about the end of the second week of our study of +the<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a> French, we began to read a little of the <i>Adventures of +Telemachus</i> in Fénelon's own words.</p> + +<p>“But now the plains of Mount Oliphant began to whiten, and Robert +was summoned to relinquish the pleasing scenes that surrounded the +grotto of Calypso, and armed with a sickle, to seek glory by +signalising himself in the fields of Ceres; and so he did, for +although but about fifteen, I was told that he performed the work +of a man.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>The record of Burns's school-days is completed by the mention of a +sojourn, probably in the summer of 1775, in his mother's parish of +Kirkoswald. Hither he went to study mathematics and surveying under a +teacher of local note, and, in spite of the convivial attractions of a +smuggling village, seems to have made progress in his geometry till +his head was turned by a girl who lived next door to the school.</p> + +<p>So far the education gained by Burns from his schoolmasters and his +father had been almost exclusively moral and intellectual. It was in +less formal ways that his imagination was fed. From his mother he had +heard from infancy the ballads, legends, and songs that were +traditionary among<a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a> the peasantry; and the influence of these was +re-enforced by a certain Betty Davidson, an unfortunate relative of +his mother's to whom the family gave shelter for a time.</p> + +<blockquote><p>“In my infant and boyish days, too,” he writes in the letter to +Doctor Moore already quoted, “I owed much to an old maid of my +mother's, remarkable for her ignorance, credulity, and +superstition. She had, I suppose, the largest collection in the +country, of tales and songs concerning devils, ghosts, fairies, +brownies, witches, warlocks, spunkies, kelpies, elf-candles, +dead-lights, wraiths, apparitions, cantraips, enchanted towers, +giants, dragons, and other trumpery. This cultivated the latent +seeds of Poesy; but had so strong an effect on my imagination, +that to this hour, in my nocturnal rambles, I sometimes keep a +sharp look-out in suspicious places; and though nobody can be more +sceptical in these matters than I, yet it often takes an effort of +philosophy to shake off these idle terrors.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>His private reading also contained much that must have stimulated his +imagination and broadened his interests. It began with a <i>Life of +Han<a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>nibal</i>, and Hamilton's modernized version of the <i>History of Sir +William Wallace</i>, which last, he says, with the touch of flamboyancy +that often recurs in his style, “poured a Scottish prejudice in my +veins, which will boil along there till the flood-gates of life shut +in eternal rest.” By the time he was eighteen he had, in addition to +books already mentioned, become acquainted with Shakespeare, Pope +(including the translation of Homer), Thomson, Shenstone, Allan +Ramsay, and a <i>Select Collection of Songs, Scotch and English</i>; with +the <i>Spectator</i>, the <i>Pantheon</i>, Locke's <i>Essay on the Human +Understanding</i>, Sterne, and Henry Mackenzie. To these must be added +some books on farming and gardening, a good deal of theology, and, of +course, the Bible.</p> + +<p>The pursuing of intellectual interests such as are implied in this +list is the more significant when we remember that it was carried on +in the scanty leisure of a life of labor so severe that it all but +broke the poet's health, and probably left permanent marks on his +physique. Yet he had energy left for still other avocations. It was +when he was no more than fifteen that he first experienced the twin +passions that came to dominate his life, love and song. The girl who +<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: This sentence was split across a pagebreak and may have a word or words missing">was<a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a> the</ins> occasion was his partner in the harvest field, Nelly +Kilpatrick; the song he addressed to her is the following:</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="HANDSOME_NELL" id="HANDSOME_NELL"></a>HANDSOME NELL</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, once I lov'd a bonnie lass,</div> +<div class="i2">Aye, and I love her still,</div> +<div class="i0">And whilst that virtue warms my breast</div> +<div class="i2">I'll love my handsome Nell.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">As bonnie lasses I hae seen,</div> +<div class="i2">And mony full as braw, <span class="sidenote">fine</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But for a modest gracefu' mien</div> +<div class="i2">The like I never saw.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A bonnie lass, I will confess,</div> +<div class="i2">Is pleasant to the e'e, <span class="sidenote">eye</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But without some better qualities</div> +<div class="i2">She's no a lass for me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But Nelly's looks are blithe and sweet,</div> +<div class="i2">And what is best of a', <span class="sidenote">all</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Her reputation is complete,</div> +<div class="i2">And fair without a flaw.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She dresses aye sae clean and neat,</div> +<div class="i2">Both decent and genteel;</div> +<div class="i0">And then there's something in her gait</div> +<div class="i2">Gars ony dress look weel. <span class="sidenote">Makes</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A gaudy dress and gentle air</div> +<div class="i2">May slightly touch the heart,</div> +<div class="i0">But it's innocence and modesty</div> +<div class="i2">That polishes the dart.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a> +<div class="i0">'Tis this in Nelly pleases me,</div> +<div class="i2">'Tis this enchants my soul!</div> +<div class="i0">For absolutely in my breast</div> +<div class="i2">She reigns without control.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Since there may still be readers who suppose that Burns was a mere +unsophisticated singer, without power of self-criticism, it may be as +well to insert here a passage from a Commonplace Book written in 1783, +ten years after the composition of the song.</p> + +<blockquote><p class="center"><i>Criticism on the Foregoing Song</i></p> + +<p>“Lest my works should be thought below Criticism; or meet with a +Critic who, perhaps, will not look on them with so candid and +favorable an eye; I am determined to criticise them myself.</p> + +<p>“The first distich of the first stanza is quite too much in the +flimsy strain of our ordinary street ballads; and on the other +hand, the second distich is too much in the other extreme. The +expression is a little awkward, and the sentiment too serious. +Stanza the second I am well pleased with; and I think it conveys a +fine idea of that amiable part of the Sex—the agreeables, or what +in our Scotch dialect we call a sweet sonsy Lass. The third Stanza +has a little of the flimsy turn in it; and the<a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a> third line has +rather too serious a cast. The fourth Stanza is a very indifferent +one; the first line is, indeed, all in the strain of the second +Stanza, but the rest is mostly an expletive. The thoughts in the +fifth Stanza come fairly up to my favorite idea [of] a sweet sonsy +Lass. The last line, however, halts a little. The same sentiments +are kept up with equal spirit and tenderness in the sixth Stanza, +but the second and fourth lines ending with short syllables hurts +the whole. The seventh Stanza has several minute faults; but I +remember I composed it in a wild enthusiasm of passion, and to +this hour I never recollect it but my heart melts, and my blood +sallies at the remembrance.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>In spite of the early start in poetry given him by Nelly Kilpatrick, +he did not produce more than a few pieces of permanent value during +the next ten years. He did, however, go on developing and branching +out in his social activities, in spite of the depressing grind of the +farm. He attended a dancing school (much against his father's will), +helped to establish a “Bachelors' Club” for debating, and found time +for further love-affairs. That with Ellison Begbie, celebrated by him +in<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a> <i>The Lass of Cessnock Banks</i>, he took very seriously, and he +proposed marriage to the girl in some portentously solemn epistles +which remain to us as the earliest examples of his prose. In order to +put himself in a position to marry, he determined to learn the trade +of flax-dressing; and though Ellison refused him, he went to the +neighboring seaport of Irvine to carry out his purpose in the summer +of 1781. The flax-dressing experiment ended disastrously with a fire +which burned the workshop, and Burns returned penniless to the farm. +The poems written about this time express profound melancholy, a mood +natural enough in the circumstances, and aggravated by his poor +nervous and physical condition.</p> + +<p>But his spirit could not remain permanently depressed, and shortly +after his return to Lochlea, a trifling accident to a ewe he had +bought prompted him to the following delightful and characteristic +production.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_DEATH_AND_DYING_WORDS_OF_POOR_MAILIE_THE_AUTHORS_ONLY_PET_YOWE" id="THE_DEATH_AND_DYING_WORDS_OF_POOR_MAILIE_THE_AUTHORS_ONLY_PET_YOWE"></a>THE DEATH AND DYING WORDS OF POOR MAILIE, THE AUTHOR'S ONLY PET YOWE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">As Mailie, an' her lambs thegither, <span class="sidenote">together</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Was ae day nibbling on the tether, <span class="sidenote">one</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Upon her cloot she coost a hitch, <span class="sidenote">hoof, looped</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' owre she warsled in the ditch; <span class="sidenote">over, floundered</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>There, groaning, dying, she did lie,</div> +<div class="i0">When Hughoc he cam doytin by. <span class="sidenote">doddering</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi glowrin' een, an' lifted han's, <span class="sidenote">staring</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Poor Hughoc like a statue stan's;</div> +<div class="i0">He saw her days were near-hand ended,</div> +<div class="i0">But wae's my heart! he could na mend it!</div> +<div class="i0">He gapèd wide, but naething spak;</div> +<div class="i0">At length poor Mailie silence brak:—</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">‘O thou, whase lamentable face</div> +<div class="i0">Appears to mourn my woefu' case!</div> +<div class="i0">My dying words attentive hear,</div> +<div class="i0">An' bear them to my Master dear.</div> +<div class="i2">‘Tell him, if e'er again he keep <span class="sidenote">own</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As muckle gear as buy a sheep,—<span class="sidenote">much money</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O bid him never tie them mair</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' wicked strings o' hemp or hair!</div> +<div class="i0">Bat ca' them out to park or hill, <span class="sidenote">drive</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' let them wander at their will;</div> +<div class="i0">So may his flock increase, an' grow</div> +<div class="i0">To scores o' lambs, an' packs o' woo'! <span class="sidenote">wool</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘Tell him he was a Master kin',</div> +<div class="i0">An' aye was guid to me an' mine;</div> +<div class="i0">An' now my dying charge I gie him, <span class="sidenote">give</span> </div> +<div class="i0">My helpless lambs, I trust them wi' him.</div> +<div class="i2">‘O bid him save their harmless lives</div> +<div class="i0">Frae dogs, an' tods, an' butchers' knives! <span class="sidenote">foxes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But gie them guid cow-milk their fill,</div> +<div class="i0">Till they be fit to fend themsel: <span class="sidenote">look after</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' tent them duly, e'en an' morn, <span class="sidenote">tend</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' teats o' hay an' ripps o' corn. <span class="sidenote">bunches, handfuls</span> </div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>‘An' may they never learn the gates <span class="sidenote">ways</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Of ither vile wanrestfu' pets— <span class="sidenote">restless</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To slink thro' slaps, an' reave an' steal, <span class="sidenote">holes in fences</span> </div> +<div class="i0">At stacks o' pease, or stocks o' kail. <span class="sidenote">plants</span> </div> +<div class="i0">So may they, like their great forbears,</div> +<div class="i0">For mony a year come thro' the shears;</div> +<div class="i0">So wives will gie them bits o' bread,</div> +<div class="i0">An' bairns greet for them when they're dead. <span class="sidenote">weep</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘My poor tup-lamb, my son an' heir,</div> +<div class="i0">O bid him breed him up wi' care!</div> +<div class="i0">An', if he live to be a beast,</div> +<div class="i0">To pit some havins in his breast! <span class="sidenote">put, behavior</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' warn him, what I winna name, <span class="sidenote">will not</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To stay content wi' yowes at hame; <span class="sidenote">ewes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' no to rin an' wear his cloots, <span class="sidenote">hoofs</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Like ither menseless graceless brutes. <span class="sidenote">unmannerly</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘An neist my yowie, silly thing, <span class="sidenote">next</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Gude keep thee frae a tether string!</div> +<div class="i0">O may thou ne'er forgather up <span class="sidenote">make friends</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' ony blastit moorland tup;</div> +<div class="i0">But ay keep mind to moop an' mell, <span class="sidenote">nibble, meddle</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' sheep o' credit like thysel!</div> +<div class="i2">‘And now, my bairns, wi' my last breath</div> +<div class="i0">I lea'e my blessin' wi' you baith;</div> +<div class="i0">An' when you think upo' your mither,</div> +<div class="i0">Mind to be kind to ane anither.</div> +<div class="i2">‘Now, honest Hughoc, dinna fail</div> +<div class="i0">To tell my master a' my tale;</div> +<div class="i0">An' bid him burn this cursed tether;</div> +<div class="i0">An', for thy pains, thou'se get my blether.’ <span class="sidenote">bladder</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">This said, poor Mailie turn'd her head,</div> +<div class="i0">An' closed her een amang the dead! <span class="sidenote">eyes</span> </div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a><a name="POOR_MAILIES_ELEGY" id="POOR_MAILIES_ELEGY"></a>POOR MAILIE'S ELEGY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lament in rhyme, lament in prose,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' saut tears tricklin' down your nose, <span class="sidenote">salt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Our bardie's fate is at a close,</div> +<div class="i16">Past a' remead; <span class="sidenote">remedy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The last sad cape-stane of his woes—<span class="sidenote">cope-stone</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Poor Mailie's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's no the loss o' warl's gear <span class="sidenote">worldly lucre</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That could sae bitter draw the tear,</div> +<div class="i0">Or mak our bardie, dowie, wear <span class="sidenote">downcast</span> </div> +<div class="i16">The mourning weed:</div> +<div class="i0">He's lost a friend and neibor dear</div> +<div class="i16">In Mailie dead.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thro' a' the toun she trotted by him;</div> +<div class="i0">A lang half-mile she could descry him;</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' kindly bleat, when she did spy him,</div> +<div class="i16">She ran wi' speed:</div> +<div class="i0">A friend mair faithfu' ne'er cam nigh him</div> +<div class="i16">Than Mailie dead.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I wat she was a sheep o' sense, <span class="sidenote">wot</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' could behave hersel wi' mense; <span class="sidenote">manners</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'll say't, she never brak a fence</div> +<div class="i16">Thro' thievish greed.</div> +<div class="i0">Our bardie, lanely, keeps the spence <span class="sidenote">parlor</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Sin' Mailie's dead. <span class="sidenote">Since</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a> +<div class="i0">Or, if he wanders up the howe, <span class="sidenote">glen</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Her living image in her yowe <span class="sidenote">ewe-lamb</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Comes bleating to him, owre the knowe, <span class="sidenote">knoll</span> </div> +<div class="i16">For bits o' bread,</div> +<div class="i0">An' down the briny pearls rowe <span class="sidenote">roll</span> </div> +<div class="i16">For Mailie dead.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She was nae get o' moorland tups, <span class="sidenote">issue</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' tawted ket, an' hairy hips; <span class="sidenote">matted fleece</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For her forbears were brought in ships</div> +<div class="i16">Frae 'yont the Tweed;</div> +<div class="i0">A bonnier fleesh ne'er cross'd the clips <span class="sidenote">fleece, shears</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Than Mailie's, dead.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wae worth the man wha first did shape <span class="sidenote">Woe to</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That vile wanchancie thing—a rape! <span class="sidenote">dangerous</span> </div> +<div class="i0">It maks guid fellows girn an' gape, <span class="sidenote">growl</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' chokin' dread;</div> +<div class="i0">An' Robin's bonnet wave wi' crape</div> +<div class="i16">For Mailie dead.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O a' ye bards on bonnie Doon!</div> +<div class="i0">An' wha on Ayr your chanters tune! <span class="sidenote">bagpipes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Come, join the melancholious croon</div> +<div class="i16">O' Robin's reed;</div> +<div class="i0">His heart will never get aboon! <span class="sidenote">rejoice</span> </div> +<div class="i16">His Mailie's dead!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>How long he continued to mourn for Ellison Begbie, it is hard to say; +but the three following songs, inspired, it would seem, by three +different girls, testify at once to his power of recuperation<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a> and the +rapid maturing of his talent. All seem to have been written between +the date of his return from Irvine and the death of his father.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MARY_MORISON" id="MARY_MORISON"></a>MARY MORISON</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Mary, at thy window be,</div> +<div class="i2">It is the wish'd, the trysted hour!</div> +<div class="i0">Those smiles and glances let me see,</div> +<div class="i2">That make the miser's treasure poor:</div> +<div class="i2">How blythely wad I bide the stoure, <span class="sidenote">bear, struggle</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A weary slave frae sun to sun,</div> +<div class="i2">Could I the rich reward secure,</div> +<div class="i0">The lovely Mary Morison.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Yestreen, when to the trembling string <span class="sidenote">Last night</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', <span class="sidenote">went</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To thee my fancy took its wing,</div> +<div class="i2">I sat, but neither heard nor saw:</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, <span class="sidenote">fine</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And yon the toast of a' the town, <span class="sidenote">the other</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I sigh'd, and said amang them a',</div> +<div class="i0">‘Ye are na Mary Morison.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,</div> +<div class="i2">Wha for thy sake wad gladly die?</div> +<div class="i0">Or canst thou break that heart of his,</div> +<div class="i2">Whase only faut is loving thee? <span class="sidenote">fault</span> </div> +<div class="i2">If love for love thou wilt na gie,</div> +<div class="i0">At least be pity to me shown!</div> +<div class="i2">A thought ungentle canna be</div> +<div class="i0">The thought o' Mary Morison.</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a><a name="MY_NANNIE_O" id="MY_NANNIE_O"></a>MY NANNIE O</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Behind yon hills where Lugar flows,</div> +<div class="i2">'Mang moors an' mosses many, O,</div> +<div class="i0">The wintry sun the day has clos'd,</div> +<div class="i2">And I'll awa' to Nannie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The westlin wind blaws loud an' shill, <span class="sidenote">western, keen</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The night's baith mirk and rainy, O; <span class="sidenote">both dark</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But I'll get my plaid, an' out I'll steal,</div> +<div class="i2">An' owre the hill to Nannie, O. <span class="sidenote">over</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young:</div> +<div class="i2">Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, O:</div> +<div class="i0">May ill befa' the flattering tongue</div> +<div class="i2">That wad beguile my Nannie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Her face is fair, her heart is true,</div> +<div class="i2">As spotless as she's bonnie, O:</div> +<div class="i0">The opening gowan, wat wi' dew, <span class="sidenote">daisy, wet</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Nae purer is than Nannie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A country lad is my degree,</div> +<div class="i2">An' few there be that ken me, O;</div> +<div class="i0">But what care I how few they be,</div> +<div class="i2">I'm welcome aye to Nannie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My riches a's my penny-fee, <span class="sidenote">wages</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' I maun guide it cannie, O; <span class="sidenote">carefully</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But warl's gear ne'er troubles me, <span class="sidenote">lucre</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My thoughts are a'—my Nannie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>Our auld guidman delights to view</div> +<div class="i2">His sheep an' kye thrive bonnie, O. <span class="sidenote">cows</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But I'm as blythe that hauds his pleugh, <span class="sidenote">holds</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' has nae care but Nannie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Come weel, come woe, I care na by, <span class="sidenote">reck not</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I'll tak what Heav'n will send me, O;</div> +<div class="i0">Nae ither care in life have I,</div> +<div class="i2">But live, an' love my Nannie, O.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_RIGS_O_BARLEY" id="THE_RIGS_O_BARLEY"></a>THE RIGS O' BARLEY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It was upon a Lammas night,</div> +<div class="i2">When corn rigs are bonnie, <span class="sidenote">ridges</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Beneath the moon's unclouded light</div> +<div class="i2">I held awa to Annie: <span class="sidenote">took my way</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The time flew by wi' tentless heed, <span class="sidenote">careless</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Till, 'tween the late and early,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed</div> +<div class="i2">To see me thro' the barley.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The sky was blue, the wind was still,</div> +<div class="i2">The moon was shining clearly;</div> +<div class="i0">I set her down wi' right good will</div> +<div class="i2">Amang the rigs o' barley;</div> +<div class="i0">I kent her heart was a' my ain; <span class="sidenote">knew, own</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I loved her most sincerely;</div> +<div class="i0">I kissed her owre and owre again <span class="sidenote">over</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Amang the rigs o' barley.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a> +<div class="i0">I locked her in my fond embrace;</div> +<div class="i2">Her heart was beating rarely;</div> +<div class="i0">My blessings on that happy place,</div> +<div class="i2">Amang the rigs o' barley!</div> +<div class="i0">But by the moon and stars so bright,</div> +<div class="i2">That shone that hour so clearly,</div> +<div class="i0">She aye shall bless that happy night</div> +<div class="i2">Amang the rigs o' barley.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I hae been blythe wi' comrades dear;</div> +<div class="i2">I hae been merry drinking;</div> +<div class="i0">I hae been joyfu' gatherin' gear; <span class="sidenote">property</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I hae been happy thinking:</div> +<div class="i0">But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' three times doubled fairly,</div> +<div class="i0">That happy night was worth them a',</div> +<div class="i2">Amang the rigs o' barley.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,</div> +<div class="i2">An' corn rigs are bonnie:</div> +<div class="i0">I'll ne'er forget that happy night,</div> +<div class="i2">Amang the rigs wi' Annie.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="SECTION2" id="SECTION2"></a>2. Mossgiel</h3> + +<p>On the death of their father, Robert and Gilbert Burns moved with the +family to the farm of Mossgiel in the next parish of Mauchline. By +putting in a claim for arrears of wages, they succeeded in drawing +enough from the wreck of<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a> their father's estate to supply a scanty +stock for the new venture. The records of the first summer show the +poet in anything but a happy frame of mind. His health was miserable; +and the loosening of his moral principles, which he ascribes to the +influence of a young sailor he had met at Irvine, bore fruit in the +birth to him of an illegitimate daughter by a servant girl, Elizabeth +Paton. The verses which carry allusion to this affair are illuminating +for his character. One group is devout and repentant; the other marked +sometimes by cynical bravado, sometimes by a note of exultation. Both +may be regarded as genuine enough expressions of moods which +alternated throughout his life, and which corresponded to conflicting +sides of his nature. Here is a typical example of the former:</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="A_PRAYER_IN_THE_PROSPECT_OF_DEATH" id="A_PRAYER_IN_THE_PROSPECT_OF_DEATH"></a>A PRAYER IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Thou unknown Almighty Cause</div> +<div class="i2">Of all my hope and fear!</div> +<div class="i0">In whose dread presence ere an hour,</div> +<div class="i2">Perhaps I must appear!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">If I have wander'd in those paths</div> +<div class="i2">Of life I ought to shun;</div> +<div class="i0">As something, loudly in my breast,</div> +<div class="i2">Remonstrates I have done;</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a> +<div class="i0">Thou know'st that Thou hast formèd me</div> +<div class="i2">With passions wild and strong;</div> +<div class="i0">And list'ning to their witching voice</div> +<div class="i2">Has often led me wrong.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Where human weakness has come short,</div> +<div class="i2">Or frailty stept aside,</div> +<div class="i0">Do thou, All-Good! for such Thou art,</div> +<div class="i2">In shades of darkness hide.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Where with intention I have err'd,</div> +<div class="i2">No other plea I have,</div> +<div class="i0">But thou art good; and Goodness still</div> +<div class="i2">Delighteth to forgive.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>In his <i>Epistle to John Rankine</i>, with a somewhat hard and heartless +humor, he braves out the affair; in the following <i><a href="#THE_POETS_WELCOME_TO_HIS_LOVE-BEGOTTEN_DAUGHTER">Welcome</a></i> he treats +it with a tender pride, as sincere as his remorse:</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_POETS_WELCOME_TO_HIS_LOVE-BEGOTTEN_DAUGHTER" id="THE_POETS_WELCOME_TO_HIS_LOVE-BEGOTTEN_DAUGHTER"></a>THE POET'S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou's welcome, wean! Mishanter fa' me, <span class="sidenote">child! Misfortune befall</span> </div> +<div class="i0">If ought of thee, or of thy mammy,</div> +<div class="i0">Shall ever daunton me, or awe me,</div> +<div class="i14">My sweet wee lady,</div> +<div class="i0">Or if I blush when thou shalt ca' me</div> +<div class="i14">Tit-ta or daddy.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a> +<div class="i0">What tho' they ca' me fornicator,</div> +<div class="i0">An' tease my name in kintra clatter: <span class="sidenote">country gossip</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The mair they talk I'm kent the better, <span class="sidenote">more</span> </div> +<div class="i14">E'en let them clash; <span class="sidenote">tattle</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An auld wife's tongue's a feckless matter <span class="sidenote">feeble</span> </div> +<div class="i14">To gie ane fash. <span class="sidenote">give one annoyance</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Welcome, my bonnie, sweet wee dochter—</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' ye come here a wee unsought for,</div> +<div class="i0">An' tho' your comin' I hae fought for</div> +<div class="i14">Baith kirk an' queir; <span class="sidenote">choir</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Yet, by my faith, ye're no unwrought for!</div> +<div class="i14">That I shall swear!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Sweet fruit o' mony a merry dint,</div> +<div class="i0">My funny toil is no a' tint, <span class="sidenote">not all lost</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tho' thou came to the warl' asklent, <span class="sidenote">askew</span> </div> +<div class="i14">Which fools may scoff at;</div> +<div class="i0">In my last plack thy part's be in't—<span class="sidenote">a small coin</span> </div> +<div class="i14">The better half o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Tho' I should be the waur bested, <span class="sidenote">worse off</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou's be as braw an' bienly clad, <span class="sidenote">finely, comfortably</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' thy young years as nicely bred</div> +<div class="i14">Wi' education,</div> +<div class="i0">As ony brat o' wedlock's bed</div> +<div class="i14">In a' thy station.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wee image of my bonnie Betty,</div> +<div class="i0">As fatherly I kiss and daut thee, <span class="sidenote">pet</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As dear an' near my heart I set thee</div> +<div class="i14">Wi' as guid will,</div> +<div class="i0">As a' the priests had seen me get thee</div> +<div class="i14">That's out o' hell.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a> +<div class="i0">Gude grant that thou may aye inherit <span class="sidenote">God</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thy mither's looks and gracefu' merit,</div> +<div class="i0">An' thy poor worthless daddy's spirit,</div> +<div class="i14">Without his failins;</div> +<div class="i0">'Twill please me mair to see thee heir it,</div> +<div class="i14">Than stockit mailins. <span class="sidenote">farms</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An' if thou be what I wad hae thee, <span class="sidenote">would have</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' tak the counsel I shall gie thee,</div> +<div class="i0">I'll never rue my trouble wi' thee—</div> +<div class="i14">The cost nor shame o't—</div> +<div class="i0">But be a loving father to thee,</div> +<div class="i14">And brag the name o't.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>At Mossgiel the Burns family was no more successful than in either of +its previous farms. Bad seed and bad weather gave two poor harvests, +and by the summer of 1786 the poet's financial condition was again +approaching desperation. His situation was made still more +embarrassing by the consequences of another of his amours. Shortly +after moving to the parish of Mauchline he had fallen in love with +Jean Armour, the daughter of a mason in the village. What was for +Burns a prolonged courtship ensued, and in the spring of 1786 he +learned that Jean's condition was such that he gave her a paper +acknowledging her as his wife. To his surprise and mortification the +girl's father, who is<a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a> said to have had a personal dislike to him and +who well may have thought a man with his reputation and prospects was +no promising son-in-law, opposed the marriage, forced Jean to give up +the paper, and sent her off to another town. Burns chose to regard +Jean's submission to her father as inexcusable faithlessness, and +proceeded to indulge in the ecstatic misery of the lover betrayed. +There is no doubt that he suffered keenly from the affair: he writes +to his friends that he could “have no nearer idea of the place of +eternal punishment” than what he had felt in his “own breast on her +account. I have tried often to forget her: I have run into all kinds +of dissipation and riot ... to drive her out of my head, but all in +vain.” This is in a later letter than that in which he has “sunk into +a lurid calm,” and “subsided into the time-settled sorrow of the sable +widower.”</p> + +<p>Yet other evidence shows that at this crisis also Burns's emotional +experience was far from simple. It was probably during the summer of +the same year that there occurred the passages with the mysterious +Highland Mary, a girl whose identity, after voluminous controversy, +remains vague, but who inspired some of his loftiest love<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a> poetry. +Though Burns's feeling for her seems to have been a kind of interlude +in reaction from the “cruelty” of Jean, he idealized it beyond his +wont, and the subject of it has been exalted to the place among his +heroines which is surely due to the long-suffering woman who became +his wife.</p> + +<p>In this same summer Burns formed the project of emigrating. He +proposed to go to the West Indies, and return for Jean when he had +made provision to support her. This offer was refused by James Armour, +but Burns persevered with the plan, obtained a position in Jamaica, +and in the autumn engaged passage in a ship sailing from Greenock. The +song, <i><a href="#WILL_YE_GO_TO_THE_INDIES_MY_MARY">Will Ye Go to the Indies; My Mary</a></i>, seems to imply that +Highland Mary was invited to accompany him, but substantial evidence +of this, as of most things concerning his relations with Mary +Campbell, is lacking. <i>From Thee, Eliza, I Must Go</i>, supposed to be +addressed to Elizabeth Miller, also belongs to this summer, and is +taken to refer to another of the “under-plots in his drama of love.”</p> + +<p>Meantime, at the suggestion of his friend and patron, Gavin Hamilton, +Burns had begun to arrange for a subscription edition of his poems. It +seems to have been only after he went to Mossgiel<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a> that he had +seriously conceived the idea of writing for publication, and the +decision was followed by a year of the most extraordinary fertility in +composition. To 1785-1786 are assigned such satires as <i><a href="#HOLY_WILLIES_PRAYER">Holy Willie</a></i> +and the <i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS">Address to the Unco Guid</a></i>; a group of the longer poems +including <i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday Night</a></i>, <i><a href="#THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS">The Jolly Beggars</a></i>, +<i><a href="#HALLOWEEN">Halloween</a></i>, <i><a href="#THE_HOLY_FAIR">The Holy Fair</a></i>, <i><a href="#THE_TWA_DOGS">The Twa Dogs</a></i> and <i>The Vision</i>; some +shorter but no less famous pieces, such as the poems <i><a href="#TO_A_LOUSE">To a Louse</a></i>, <i><a href="#TO_A_MOUSE">To +a Mouse</a></i>, <i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL">To the Deil</a></i>, <i><a href="#TO_A_MOUNTAIN_DAISY">To a Mountain Daisy</a></i> and <i><a href="#SCOTCH_DRINK">Scotch Drink</a></i>; and +a number of the best of his <i>Epistles</i>. Many of these, especially the +church satires, had obtained a considerable local fame through +circulation in manuscript, so that, proposals having been issued for +an edition to be printed by Wilson of Kilmarnock, it was not found +difficult to obtain subscriptions for more than half the edition of +six hundred and twelve copies. The prospect of some return from this +enterprise induced James Armour to take legal measures to obtain +support for Jean's expected child, and Burns, fearing imprisonment, +was forced to go into hiding while his book was passing the press. The +church, too, had taken cognizance of his offense, and both Jean and he +had<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a> to stand up before the congregation on three occasions to receive +rebuke and make profession of repentance. He was at the same time +completing the preparations for his voyage. In such extraordinary +circumstances appeared the famous Kilmarnock edition, the immediate +success of which soon produced a complete alteration in the whole +outlook of the poet.</p> + +<p>In the first place, the consideration Burns gained from his volume +induced Armour to relax his pursuit, and in September, when Jean +became the mother of twins, the poet was in such a mood that the +sentiment of paternity began to weigh against the proposed emigration. +Some weeks later he learned through a friend that Doctor Blacklock, a +poet and scholar of standing in literary circles in Edinburgh, had +praised his volume highly, and urged a second and larger edition. The +upshot was that he gave up his passage (his trunk had been packed and +was part way to Greenock), and determined instead on a visit to +Edinburgh. The only permanent result of the whole West Indian scheme +was thus a sheaf of amorous and patriotic farewells, of which the +following may be taken as examples:</p> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a><a name="WILL_YE_GO_TO_THE_INDIES_MY_MARY" id="WILL_YE_GO_TO_THE_INDIES_MY_MARY"></a>WILL YE GO TO THE INDIES, MY MARY?</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,</div> +<div class="i2">And leave auld Scotia's shore?</div> +<div class="i0">Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,</div> +<div class="i2">Across the Atlantic's roar?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O sweet grows the lime and the orange,</div> +<div class="i2">And the apple on the pine;</div> +<div class="i0">But a' the charms o' the Indies</div> +<div class="i2">Can never equal thine.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I hae sworn by the Heavens to my Mary,</div> +<div class="i2">I hae sworn by the Heavens to be true;</div> +<div class="i0">And sae may the Heavens forget me,</div> +<div class="i2">When I forget my vow!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O plight me your faith, my Mary,</div> +<div class="i2">And plight me your lily-white hand;</div> +<div class="i0">O plight me your faith, my Mary,</div> +<div class="i2">Before I leave Scotia's strand.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">We hae plighted our troth, my Mary,</div> +<div class="i2">In mutual affection to join;</div> +<div class="i0">And curst be the cause that shall part us!</div> +<div class="i2">The hour, and the moment o' time!</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_GLOOMY_NIGHT" id="THE_GLOOMY_NIGHT"></a>THE GLOOMY NIGHT</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">The gloomy night is gathering fast,</div> +<div class="i0">Loud roars the wild inconstant blast,</div> +<div class="i0">Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,</div> +<div class="i0">I see it driving o'er the plain;</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>The hunter now has left the moor,</div> +<div class="i0">The scatter'd coveys meet secure,</div> +<div class="i0">While here I wander, prest with care,</div> +<div class="i0">Along the lonely banks of Ayr.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">The Autumn mourns her ripening corn</div> +<div class="i0">By early Winter's ravage torn;</div> +<div class="i0">Across her placid azure sky,</div> +<div class="i0">She sees the scowling tempest fly:</div> +<div class="i0">Chill runs my blood to hear it rave,</div> +<div class="i0">I think upon the stormy wave,</div> +<div class="i0">Where many a danger I must dare,</div> +<div class="i0">Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">'Tis not the surging billow's roar,</div> +<div class="i0">'Tis not that fatal, deadly shore;</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' death in ev'ry shape appear,</div> +<div class="i0">The wretched have no more to fear:</div> +<div class="i0">But round my heart the ties are bound,</div> +<div class="i0">That heart transpierc'd with many a wound:</div> +<div class="i0">These bleed afresh, those ties I tear,</div> +<div class="i0">To leave the bonnie banks of Ayr.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales,</div> +<div class="i0">Her heathy moors and winding vales;</div> +<div class="i0">The scenes where wretched fancy roves,</div> +<div class="i0">Pursuing past unhappy loves!</div> +<div class="i0">Farewell, my friends! Farewell, my foes!</div> +<div class="i0">My peace with these, my love with those;</div> +<div class="i0">The bursting tears my heart declare,</div> +<div class="i0">Farewell, my bonnie banks of Ayr!</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a><a name="ON_A_SCOTCH_BARD_GONE_TO_THE_WEST_INDIES" id="ON_A_SCOTCH_BARD_GONE_TO_THE_WEST_INDIES"></a>ON A SCOTCH BARD, GONE TO THE WEST INDIES</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A' ye wha live by sowps o' drink, <span class="sidenote">sups</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A' ye wha live by crambo-clink, <span class="sidenote">rhyme</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A' ye wha live an' never think,</div> +<div class="i16">Come mourn wi' me!</div> +<div class="i0">Our billie's gi'en us a' a jink, <span class="sidenote">fellow, the slip</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' owre the sea.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lament him, a' ye rantin core, <span class="sidenote">jovial set</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha dearly like a random-splore; <span class="sidenote">frolic</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Nae mair he'll join the merry roar,</div> +<div class="i16">In social key;</div> +<div class="i0">For now he's taen anither shore,</div> +<div class="i16">An' owre the sea!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The bonnie lasses weel may wiss him, <span class="sidenote">wish for</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And in their dear petitions place him,</div> +<div class="i0">The widows, wives, an' a' may bless him</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' tearfu' e'e;</div> +<div class="i0">For weel I wat they'll sairly miss him <span class="sidenote">wot, sorely</span> </div> +<div class="i16">That's owre the sea!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Fortune, they hae room to grumble!</div> +<div class="i0">Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle, <span class="sidenote">drone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha can do nought but fyke an' fumble, <span class="sidenote">fuss</span> </div> +<div class="i16">'Twad been nae plea; <span class="sidenote">grievance</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But he was gleg as ony wumble, <span class="sidenote">lively, auger</span> </div> +<div class="i16">That's owre the sea!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a> +<div class="i0">Auld cantie Kyle may weepers wear, <span class="sidenote">cheerful, mourning bands</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' stain them wi' the saut, saut tear: <span class="sidenote">salt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">'Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,</div> +<div class="i16">In flinders flee; <span class="sidenote">fragments</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He was her Laureat mony a year,</div> +<div class="i16">That's owre the sea!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He saw misfortune's cauld nor-west</div> +<div class="i0">Lang mustering up a bitter blast;</div> +<div class="i0">A jillet brak his heart at last—<span class="sidenote">jilt</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Ill may she be!</div> +<div class="i0">So took a berth afore the mast,</div> +<div class="i16">An' owre the sea.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">To tremble under Fortune's cummock <span class="sidenote">cudgel</span> </div> +<div class="i0">On scarce a bellyfu' o' drummock, <span class="sidenote">meal and water</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' his proud independent stomach,</div> +<div class="i16">Could ill agree;</div> +<div class="i0">So row't his hurdies in a hammock, <span class="sidenote">rolled, buttocks</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' owre the sea.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He ne'er was gi'en to great misguidin',</div> +<div class="i0">Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in; <span class="sidenote">pockets would</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' him it ne'er was under hidin',</div> +<div class="i16">He dealt it free:</div> +<div class="i0">The Muse was a' that he took pride in,</div> +<div class="i16">That's owre the sea.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Jamaica bodies, use him weel,</div> +<div class="i0">An' hap him in a cozie biel; <span class="sidenote">cover, shelter</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye'll find him aye a dainty chiel, <span class="sidenote">fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i16">And fu' o' glee;</div> +<div class="i0">He wad na wrang'd the vera deil,</div> +<div class="i16">That's owre the sea.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a> +<div class="i0">Fareweel, my rhyme-composing billie!</div> +<div class="i0">Your native soil was right ill-willie; <span class="sidenote">unkind</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But may ye flourish like a lily,</div> +<div class="i16">Now bonnilie!</div> +<div class="i0">I'll toast ye in my hindmost gillie, <span class="sidenote">last gill</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Tho' owre the sea!</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="SECTION3" id="SECTION3"></a>3. Edinburgh</h3> + +<p>On the twenty-seventh of November, 1786, mounted on a borrowed pony, +Burns set out for Edinburgh. He seems to have arrived there without +definite plans, for, after having found lodging with his old friend +Richmond, he spent the first few days strolling about the city. At +home Burns had been an enthusiastic freemason, and it was through a +masonic friend, Mr. James Dalrymple of Orangefield, near Ayr, that he +was introduced to Edinburgh society. A decade or two earlier, that +society, under the leadership of men like Adam Smith and David Hume +had reached a high degree of intellectual distinction. A decade or two +later, under Sir Walter Scott and the Reviewers it was again to be in +some measure, if for the last time, a rival to London as a literary +center. But when Burns visited it there was a kind of interregnum, +and, little though he or they guessed it, none of the celebri<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>ties he +met possessed genius comparable to his own. In a very few weeks it was +evident that he was to be the lion of the season. By December +thirteenth he is writing to a friend at Ayr:</p> + +<blockquote><p>“I have found a worthy warm friend in Mr. Dalrymple, of +Orangefield, who introduced me to Lord Glencairn, a man whose +worth and brotherly kindness to me I shall remember when time +shall be no more. By his interest it is passed in the Caledonian +Hunt, and entered in their books, that they are to take each a +copy of the second edition [of the poems], for which they are to +pay one guinea. I have been introduced to a good many of the +Noblesse, but my avowed patrons and patronesses are the Duchess of +Gordon, the Countess of Glencairn, with my Lord and Lady +Betty—the Dean of Faculty [Honorable Henry Erskine]—Sir John +Whitefoord. I have likewise warm friends among the literati; +Professors [Dugald] Stewart, Blair, and Mr. Mackenzie—the Man of +Feeling.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>Through Glencairn he met Creech the book-seller, with whom he +arranged for his second edition, and through the patrons he mentions +and the<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a> Edinburgh freemasons, among whom he was soon at home, a large +subscription list was soon made up. In the <i>Edinburgh Magazine</i> for +October, November, and December, James Sibbald had published favorable +notices of the Kilmarnock edition, with numerous extracts, and when +Henry Mackenzie gave it high praise in his <i>Lounger</i> for December +ninth, and the <i>London Monthly Review</i> followed suit in the same +month, it was felt that the poet's reputation was established.</p> + +<p>Of Burns's bearing in the fashionable and cultivated society into +which he so suddenly found himself plunged we have many contemporary +accounts. They are practically unanimous in praise of the taste and +tact with which he acquitted himself. While neither shy nor +aggressive, he impressed every one with his brilliance in +conversation, his shrewdness in observation, and criticism, and his +poise and common sense in his personal relations. One of the best +descriptions of him was given by Sir Walter Scott to Lockhart. Scott +as a boy of sixteen met Burns at the house of Doctor Adam Ferguson, +and thus reports:</p> + +<blockquote><p>“His person was strong and robust; his manners rustic, not +clownish; a sort of dignified plainness<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a> and simplicity, which +received part of its effect perhaps from one's knowledge of his +extraordinary talents.... I would have taken the poet, had I not +known what he was, for a very sagacious country farmer of the old +Scotch school; that is, none of your modern agriculturists who +keep labourers for their drudgery, but the <i>douce guidman</i> who +held his own plough. There was a strong expression of sense and +shrewdness in all his lineaments: the eye alone, I think, +indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large, +and of a cast which glowed (I say literally glowed) when he spoke +with feeling or interest. I never saw such another eye in a human +head, though I have seen the most distinguished men of my time. +His conversation expressed perfect self-confidence, without the +slightest presumption. Among the men who were the most learned of +their time and country, he expressed himself with perfect +firmness, but without the least intrusive forwardness; and when he +differed an opinion, he did not hesitate to express it firmly, yet +at the same time with modesty.... I have only to add, that his +dress corresponded with his manner. He was like a farmer dressed +in his best to dine with the laird.<a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a> I do not speak <i>in malam +partem</i>, when I say I never saw a man in company with his +superiors in station and information, more perfectly free from +either the reality or the affectation of embarrassment. I was +told, but did not observe it, that his address to females was +extremely deferential, and always with a turn either to the +pathetic or humorous, which engaged their attention particularly. +I have heard the Duchess of Gordon remark this.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>Burns's letters written at this time show an amused consciousness of +his social prominence, but never for a moment did he lose sight of the +fact that it was only the affair of a season, and that in a few months +he would have to resume his humble station. Yet this intellectual +detachment did not prevent his enjoying opportunities for social and +intellectual intercourse such as he had never known and was never +again to know. Careful as he was to avoid presuming on his new +privileges, he clearly threw himself into the discussions in which he +took part with all the zest of his temperament; and in the less formal +convivial clubs to which he was welcomed he became at once the king of +good fellows. To the noble<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>men and others who befriended him he +expressed himself in language which may seem exaggerated; but the +warmth of his disposition, and the letter writers of the eighteenth +century on whom he had formed his style, sufficiently account for it +without the suspicion of affectation or flattery. Whatever his vices, +ingratitude to those who showed him kindness was not among them; and +the sympathetic reader is more apt to feel pathos than to take offense +in his tributes to his patrons. The real though not extraordinary +kindness of the Earl of Glencairn, for example, was acknowledged again +and again in prose and verse; and the <i>Lament</i> Burns wrote upon his +death closes with these lines which rewarded the noble lord with an +immortality he might otherwise have missed:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The bridegroom may forget the bride</div> +<div class="i2">Was made his wedded wife yestreen;</div> +<div class="i0">The monarch may forget the crown</div> +<div class="i2">That on his head an hour has been;</div> +<div class="i0">The mother may forget the child</div> +<div class="i2">That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;</div> +<div class="i0">But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,</div> +<div class="i2">And a' that thou hast done for me!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>After a sojourn of a little more than five months, Burns left +Edinburgh early in May for a<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a> tour in the south of Scotland. The poet +was mounted on an old mare, Jenny Geddes, which he had bought in +Edinburgh, and which he still owned when he settled at Ellisland. He +was accompanied by his bosom friend, Robert Ainslie. The letters and +journals written during the four weeks of this tour give evidence of +his appreciation of scenery and his shrewd judgment of character. He +was received with much consideration in the houses he visited, and was +given the freedom of the burgh of Dumfries. On the ninth of June, +1787, he was back at Mauchline; and, calling at Armour's house to see +his child, he was revolted by the “mean, servile complaisance” he met +with—the result of his Edinburgh triumphs. His disgust at the family, +however, did not prevent a renewal of his intimacy with Jean. After a +few days at home, he seems to have made a short tour in the West +Highlands. July was spent at Mossgiel, and early in August he returned +to Edinburgh in order to settle his accounts with Creech, his +publisher. On the twenty-fifth he set out for a longer tour in the +North accompanied by his friend Nicol, an Edinburgh schoolmaster, the +Willie who “brewed a peck o' maut.” They proceeded by Linlithgow, +Falkirk, Stirling, Crieff,<a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a> Dunkeld, Aberfeldie, Blair Athole, +Strathspey, to Inverness. The most notable episode of the journey +northwards was a visit at the castle of the Duke of Athole, which +passed with great satisfaction to both Burns and his hosts, and of +which his <i>Humble Petition of Bruar Water</i> is a poetical memorial. At +Stonehaven and Montrose he extended his acquaintance among his +father's relatives. He reached Edinburgh again on September sixteenth, +having traveled nearly six hundred miles. In October he made still +another excursion, through Clackmannanshire and into the south of +Perthshire, visiting Ramsay of Ochtertyre, near Stirling, and Sir +William Murray of Ochtertyre in Strathearn. In all these visits made +by Burns to the houses of the aristocracy, it is interesting to note +his capacity for pleasing and profitable intercourse with people of a +class and tradition far removed from his own. Sensitive to an extreme +and quick to resent a slight, he was at the same time finely +responsive to kindness, and his conduct was governed by a tact and +frank naturalness that are among the not least surprising of his +powers. In spite of the fervor and floridness of some of his +expressions of gratitude for favors from his noble friends, Burns was +no<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a> snob; and it was characteristic of him to give up a visit to the +Duchess of Gordon rather than separate from his companion Nicol, who, +in a fit of jealous sulks, refused to accompany him to Castle Gordon.</p> + +<p>The settlement with Creech proved to be a very tedious affair, and in +the beginning of December the poet was about to leave the city in +disgust when an accident occurred which gave opportunity for one of +the most extraordinary episodes in the history of his relations with +women. Just before, he had met a Mrs. McLehose who lived in Edinburgh +with her three children, while her husband, from whom she had +separated on account of ill-treatment, had emigrated to Jamaica. A +correspondence began immediately after the first meeting, with the +following letter:</p> + +<blockquote><p>“<i>Madam</i>:</p> + +<p style="text-indent:1.5em; margin-top:0;">“I had set no small store by my tea-drinking tonight, and have not +often been so disappointed. Saturday evening I shall embrace the +opportunity with the greatest pleasure. I leave this town this day +se'ennight, and probably I shall not return for a couple of +twelvemonths; but I must ever regret that I so lately got an +acquaintance I shall<a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a> ever highly esteem, and in whose welfare I +shall ever be warmly interested. Our worthy common friend, Miss +Nimmo, in her usual pleasant way, rallied me a good deal on my new +acquaintance, and, in the humour of her ideas, I wrote some lines, +which I enclose to you, as I think they have a good deal of poetic +merit; and Miss Nimmo tells me that you are not only a critic but +a poetess. Fiction, you know, is the native region of poetry; and +I hope you will pardon my vanity in sending you the bagatelle as a +tolerable offhand <i>jeu d'esprit</i>. I have several poetic trifles, +which I shall gladly leave with Miss Nimmo or you, if they were +worth house-room; as there are scarcely two people on earth by +whom it would mortify me more to be forgotten, though at the +distance of nine score miles. I am, Madam, With the highest +respect,</p> + +<p class="quotsig">“Your very humble servant,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Robert Burns</span>.”</p> + +<p>[December 6, 1787.]</p></blockquote> + +<p>The night before Burns was to take tea with his new acquaintance, he +was overturned by a drunken coachman, and received an injury to his +knee which confined him to his rooms for several<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a> weeks. Meantime the +correspondence went on with ever-increasing warmth, from “Madam,” +through “My dearest Madam,” “my dear kind friend,” “my lovely friend,” +to “my dearest angel.” They early agreed to call each other Clarinda +and Sylvander, and the Arcadian names are significant of the +sentimental nature of the relation. By the time of their second +meeting—about a month after the first,—they had exchanged intimate +confidences, had discovered endless affinities, and had argued by the +page on religion, Clarinda striving to win Sylvander over to her +orthodox Calvinism. When he was again able to go out, his visits +became for both of them “exquisite” and “rapturous” experiences, +Clarinda struggling to keep on the safe side of discretion by means of +“Reason” and “Religion,” Sylvander protesting his complete submission +to her will. The appearance of passion in their letters goes on +increasing, and Clarinda's fits of perturbation in the next morning's +reflections grow more acute. She does not seem to have become the +poet's mistress, and it is impossible to gather what either of them +expected the outcome of their intercourse to be. With a few notable +exceptions, the verses which were occasioned rather than in<a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>spired by +the affair are affected and artificial; and in spite of the warmth of +the expressions in his letters it is hard to believe that his passion +went very deep. In any case, on his return to Mauchline to find Jean +Armour cast out by her own people after having a second time borne him +twins, he faced his responsibilities in a more manly and honorable +fashion than ever before, and made Jean his wife. The explanation of +his final resolution is given repeatedly in almost the same words in +his letters: “I found a much loved female's positive happiness or +absolute misery among my hands, and I could not trifle with such a +sacred deposit.” It would appear that, however far the affair between +him and Clarinda had passed beyond the sentimental friendship it began +with, he did not regard it as placing in his hands any such “sacred +deposit” as the fate of Jean, nor had one or two intrigues with +obscure girls in Edinburgh shaken an affection which was much more +deep-rooted than he often imagined. Clarinda was naturally deeply +wounded by his marriage, and her reproaches of “villainy” led to a +breach which was only gradually bridged. At one time, just before she +set out for Jamaica to join her husband in an unsuccessful attempt at +a re<a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a>conciliation, Burns's letters again became frequent, the old +fervor reappeared, and a couple of his best songs were produced. But +at this time he had the—shall we say reassuring?—belief that he was +not to see her again, and could indulge an emotion that had always +been largely theatrical without risk to either of them. On her return +he wrote her, it would seem, only once. For the character of Burns the +incident is of much curious interest; for literature its importance +lies in the two songs, <i><a href="#AE_FOND_KISS">Ae fond Kiss</a></i> and <i><a href="#MY_NANNIES_AWA">My Nannie's Awa</a></i>. The +former was written shortly before her departure for the West Indies; +the second in the summer of her absence. It is noteworthy that in them +“Clarinda” has given place to “Nancy” and “Nannie.” Beside them is +placed for contrast, one of the pure Clarinda effusions.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="AE_FOND_KISS" id="AE_FOND_KISS"></a>AE FOND KISS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! <span class="sidenote">One</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ae farewell, and then for ever!</div> +<div class="i0">Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,</div> +<div class="i0">Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.</div> +<div class="i0">Who shall say that Fortune grieves him</div> +<div class="i0">While the star of hope she leaves him?</div> +<div class="i0">Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me,</div> +<div class="i0">Dark despair around benights me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a> +<div class="i0">I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,</div> +<div class="i0">Naething could resist my Nancy;</div> +<div class="i0">But to see her was to love her,</div> +<div class="i0">Love but her, and love for ever.</div> +<div class="i0">Had we never lov'd sae kindly,</div> +<div class="i0">Had we never lov'd sae blindly,</div> +<div class="i0">Never met—or never parted,</div> +<div class="i0">We had ne'er been broken-hearted.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!</div> +<div class="i0">Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!</div> +<div class="i0">Thine be ilka joy and treasure, <span class="sidenote">every</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure,</div> +<div class="i0">Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;</div> +<div class="i0">Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!</div> +<div class="i0">Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,</div> +<div class="i0">Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MY_NANNIES_AWA" id="MY_NANNIES_AWA"></a>MY NANNIE'S AWA</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays,</div> +<div class="i0">And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes, <span class="sidenote">hillsides</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw; <span class="sidenote">wooded dell</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But to me it's delightless—my Nannie's awa.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn</div> +<div class="i0">And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn: <span class="sidenote">wet (dew)</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,</div> +<div class="i0">They mind me o' Nannie—and Nannie's awa.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou laverock, that springs frae the dews o' the lawn <span class="sidenote">lark</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn,</div> +<div class="i0">And thou, mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa', <span class="sidenote">thrush</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Give over for pity—my Nannie's awa.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a> +<div class="i0">Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and gray,</div> +<div class="i0">And soothe me wi' tidings o' nature's decay;</div> +<div class="i0">The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw</div> +<div class="i0">Alane can delight me—now Nannie's awa.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="CLARINDA" id="CLARINDA"></a>CLARINDA</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Clarinda, mistress of my soul,</div> +<div class="i2">The measured time is run!</div> +<div class="i0">The wretch beneath the dreary pole</div> +<div class="i2">So marks his latest sun.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">To what dark cave of frozen night</div> +<div class="i2">Shall poor Sylvander hie,</div> +<div class="i0">Depriv'd of thee, his life and light,</div> +<div class="i2">The sun of all his joy?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">We part—but by these precious drops</div> +<div class="i2">That fill thy lovely eyes!</div> +<div class="i0">No other light shall guide my steps</div> +<div class="i2">Till thy bright beams arise.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She, the fair sun of all her sex,</div> +<div class="i2">Has blest my glorious day;</div> +<div class="i0">And shall a glimmering planet fix</div> +<div class="i2">My worship to its ray?</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="SECTION4" id="SECTION4"></a>4. Ellisland</h3> + +<p>In the spring of 1788 when Burns married Jean Armour, he took two +other steps of the first<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a> importance for his future career. The +Edinburgh period had come and gone, and all that his intercourse with +his influential friends had brought him was the four or five hundred +pounds of profit from his poems and an opportunity to enter the excise +service. With part of the money he relieved his brother Gilbert from +pressing obligations at Mossgiel by the loan of one hundred and eighty +pounds, and with the rest leased the farm of Ellisland on the bank of +the Nith, five or six miles above Dumfries. But before taking up the +farm he devoted six weeks or so to tuition in the duties of an +exciseman, so that he had this occupation to fall back on in case of +another farming failure. During the summer he superintended the +building of the farm-house, and in December Jean joined her husband. +His satisfaction in his domestic situation is characteristically +expressed in a song composed about this time.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="I_HAE_A_WIFE" id="I_HAE_A_WIFE"></a>I HAE A WIFE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I hae a wife o' my ain,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll partake wi' naebody;</div> +<div class="i0">I'll tak cuckold frae nane,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll gie cuckold to naebody.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a> +<div class="i0">I hae a penny to spend,</div> +<div class="i2">There—thanks to naebody;</div> +<div class="i0">I hae naething to lend,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll borrow frae naebody.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I am naebody's lord,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll be slave to naebody;</div> +<div class="i0">I hae a guid braid sword,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll tak dunts frae naebody. <span class="sidenote">blows</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I'll be merry and free,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll be sad for naebody;</div> +<div class="i0">Naebody cares for me,</div> +<div class="i2">I care for naebody.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Early in his residence at Ellisland he formed a close relation with a +neighboring proprietor, Colonel Robert Riddel. For him he copied into +two volumes a large part of what he considered the best of his +unpublished verse and prose, thus forming the well-known Glenriddel +Manuscript. Had not one already become convinced of the fact from +internal evidence, it would be clear enough from this prose volume +that Burns's letters were often as much works of art to him as his +poems. This is of supreme importance in weighing the epistolary +evidence for his character and conduct. Even when his words seem to be +the direct outpourings of his feelings—of love, of<a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a> friendship, of +gratitude, of melancholy, of devotion, of scorn—a comparative +examination will show that in prose as much as in verse we are dealing +with the work of a conscious artist, enamored of telling expression, +aware of his reader, and anything but the naif utterer of +unsophisticated emotion. To recall this will save us from much +perplexity in the interpretation of his words, and will clear up many +an apparent contradiction in his evidence about himself.</p> + +<p>Burns was never very sanguine about success on the Ellisland farm. By +the end of the summer of 1789 he concluded that he could not depend on +it, determined to turn it into a dairy farm to be conducted mainly by +his wife and sisters, and took up the work in the excise for which he +had prepared himself. He had charge of a large district of ten +parishes, and had to ride some two hundred miles a week in all +weathers. With the work he still did on the farm one can see that he +was more than fully employed, and need not wonder that there was +little time for poetry. Yet these years at Ellisland were on the whole +happy years for himself and his family; he found time for pleasant +intercourse with some of his neighbors, for a good deal of +letter-writing,<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a> for some interest in politics, and for the +establishing, with Colonel Riddel, of a small neighborhood library. As +an excise officer he seems to have been conscientious and efficient, +though at times, in the case of poor offenders, he tempered justice +with mercy. Ultimately, despairing of making the farm pay and hoping +for promotion in the government service, he gave up his lease, sold +his stock, and in the autumn of 1791 moved to Dumfries, where he was +given a district which did not involve keeping a horse, and which paid +him about seventy pounds a year. Thus ended the last of Burns's +disastrous attempts to make a living from the soil.</p> + + +<h3><a name="SECTION5" id="SECTION5"></a>5. Dumfries</h3> + +<p>The house in which the Burnses with their three sons first lived in +Dumfries was a three-roomed cottage in the Wee Vennel, now Banks +Street. Though his income was small, it must be remembered that the +cost of food was low. “Beef was 3d. to 5d. a lb.; mutton, 3d. to +4-1/2d.; chickens, 7d. to 8d. a pair; butter (the lb. of 24 oz.), 7d. +to 9d.; salmon, 6d. to 9-1/2d. a lb.; cod, 1d. and even 1/2d. a lb.” +Though hardly in easy circumstances then, Burns's situation was such<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a> +that it was possible to avoid his greatest horror, debt.</p> + +<p>Meantime, his interest in politics had greatly quickened. He had been +from youth a sentimental Jacobite; but this had little effect upon his +attitude toward the parties of the day. In Edinburgh he had worn the +colors of the party of Fox, presumably out of compliment to his Whig +friends, Glencairn and Erskine. During the Ellisland period, however, +he had written strongly against the Regency Bill supported by Fox; and +in the general election of 1790 he opposed the Duke of Queensberry and +the local Whig candidate. But in his early months in Dumfries we find +him showing sympathy with the doctrines of the French Revolution, a +sympathy which was natural enough in a man of his inborn democratic +tendencies. A curious outcome of these was an incident not yet fully +cleared up. In February, 1792, Burns, along with some fellow officers, +assisted by a body of dragoons, seized an armed smuggling brig which +had run aground in the Solway, and on her being sold, he bought for +three pounds four of the small guns she carried. These he is said to +have presented “to the French Convention,” but they<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a> were seized by +the British Government at Dover. As a matter of fact, the Convention +was not constituted till September, and the Legislative Assembly which +preceded it was not hostile to Britain. Thus, Burns's action, though +eccentric and extravagant, was not treasonable in law or in spirit, +and does not seem to have entailed on him any unfortunate +consequences.</p> + +<p>In the course of that year symptoms of the infection of part of the +British public with revolutionary principles began to be evident, and +the government was showing signs of alarm. The Whig opposition was +clamoring for internal reform, and Burns sided more and more +definitely with it, and was rash enough to subscribe for a Reform +paper called <i>The Gazetteer</i>, an action which would have put him under +suspicion from his superiors, had it become known. Some notice of his +Liberal tendencies did reach his official superiors, and an inquiry +was made into his political principles which caused him no small +alarm. In a letter to Mr. Graham of Fintry, through whom he had +obtained his position, he disclaimed all revolutionary beliefs and all +political activity. No action was taken against him, nor was his +failure to obtain promotion to an Exam<a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>inership due to anything but +the slow progress involved in promotion by seniority. Hereafter, he +exercised considerable caution in the expression of his political +sympathies, though he allowed himself to associate with men of +revolutionary opinions. The feeling that he was not free to utter what +he believed on public affairs was naturally chafing to a man of his +independent nature.</p> + +<p>Burns's chief enjoyment in these days was the work he was doing for +Scottish song. While in Edinburgh he had made the acquaintance of an +engraver, James Johnson, who had undertaken the publication of the +<i>Scots Musical Museum</i>, a collection of songs and music. Burns agreed +to help him by the collection and refurbishing of the words of old +songs, and when these were impossible, by providing new words for the +melodies. The work finally extended to six volumes; and before it was +finished a more ambitious undertaking, managed by a Mr. George +Thomson, was set on foot. Burns was invited to cooperate in this also, +and entered into it with such enthusiasm that he was Thomson's main +support. In both of these publications the poet worked purely with +patriotic motives and for the love of song, and had no pecuniary +interest in either. Once Thom<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>son sent him a present of five pounds +and endangered their relations thereby; later, when Burns was in his +last illness, he asked and received from Thomson an advance of the +same amount. Apart from these sums Burns never made or sought to make +a penny from his writings after the publication of the first Edinburgh +edition. Twice he declined journalistic work for a London paper. +Poetry was the great consolation of his life, and even in his severest +financial straits he refused to consider the possibility of writing +for money, regarding it as a kind of prostitution.</p> + +<p>By the autumn of 1795 signs began to appear that the poet's +constitution was breaking down. The death of his daughter Elizabeth +and a severe attack of rheumatism plunged him into deep melancholy and +checked for a time his song-writing; and though for a time he +recovered, his disease returned early in the next year. It seems +clear, too, that though the change from Ellisland to Dumfries relieved +him of much of the severer physical exertion, other factors more than +counterbalanced this relief. Burns had never been a slave to drink for +its own sake; it had always been the accompaniment—in those days an +almost<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a> inevitable accompaniment—of sociability. Some of his +wealthier friends in the vicinity were in this respect rather +excessive in their hospitality; in Dumfries the taverns were always at +hand; and as Burns came to realize the comparative failure of his +career as a man, he found whisky more and more a means of escape for +depression. Even if we distrust the local gossip that made much of the +dissipations of his later years, it appears from the evidence of his +physician that alcohol had much to do with the rheumatic and digestive +troubles that finally broke him down. In July, 1796, he was sent, as a +last resort, to Brow-on-Solway to try sea-bathing and country life; +but he returned little improved, and well-nigh convinced that his +illness was mortal. His mental condition is shown by the fact that +pressure from a solicitor for the payment of a tailor's debt of some +seven pounds, incurred for his volunteer's uniform, threw him into a +panic lest he should be imprisoned, and his last letters are pitiful +requests for financial help, and two notes to his father-in-law urging +him to send her mother to Jean, as she was about to give birth to +another child. In such harassing conditions he sank into delirium, and +died on July 21, 1796.<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a> The child, who died in infancy, was born on +the day his father was buried.</p> + +<p>With Burns's death a reaction in popular opinion set in. He was given +a military funeral; and a subscription which finally amounted to one +thousand two hundred pounds was raised for his family. The official +biography, by Doctor Currie of Liverpool, doubled this sum, so that +Jean was enabled to bring up the children respectably, and end her +days in comfort. Scotland, having done little for Burns in his life, +was stricken with remorse when he died, and has sought ever since to +atone for her neglect by an idolatry of the poet and by a more than +charitable view of the man.</p> + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /><br />INHERITANCE: LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE</h2> + + +<p>Three forms of speech were current in Scotland in the time of Burns, +and, in different proportions, are current to-day: in the Highlands, +north and west of a slanting line running from the Firth of Clyde to +Aberdeenshire, Gaelic; in the Lowlands, south and east of the same +line, Lowland Scots; over the whole country, among the more educated +classes, English. Gaelic is a Celtic language, belonging to an +entirely different linguistic group from English, and having close +affinities to Irish and Welsh. This tongue Burns did not know. Lowland +Scots is a dialect of English, descended from the Northumbrian dialect +of Anglo-Saxon. It has had a history of considerable interest. Down to +the time of Chaucer, whose influence had much to do with making the +Midland dialect the literary standard for the Southern kingdom, it is +difficult to distinguish the written language of Edinburgh<a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a> from that +of York, both being developments of Northumbrian. But as English +writers tended more and more to conform to the standard of London, +Northern Middle English gradually ceased to be written; while in +Scotland, separated and usually hostile as it was politically, the +Northern speech continued to develop along its own lines, until in the +beginning of the sixteenth century it attained a form more remote from +standard English and harder for the modern reader than it had been a +century before. The close connection between Scotland and France, +continuing down to the time of Queen Mary, led to the introduction of +many French words which never found a place in English; the proximity +of the Highlands made Gaelic borrowings easy; and the Scandinavian +settlements on both coasts contributed additional elements to the +vocabulary. Further, in its comparative isolation, Scots developed or +retained peculiarities in grammar and pronunciation unknown or lost in +the South. Thus by 1550, the form of English spoken in Scotland was in +a fair way to become an independent language.</p> + +<p>This process, however, was rudely halted by the Reformation. The +triumph of this movement<a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a> in England and its comparative failure in +France threw Scotland, when it became Protestant, into close relations +with England, while the “auld Alliance” with France practically ended +when Mary of Scots returned to her native country. Leaders like John +Knox, during the early struggles of the Reformation, spent much time +in England; and when they came home their speech showed the effect of +their intercourse with their southern brethren of the reformed faith. +The language of Knox, as recorded in his sermons and his <i>History</i>, is +indeed far from Elizabethan English, but it is notably less “broad” +than the Scots of Douglas and Lindesay. Scotland had no vernacular +translation of the Bible; and this important fact, along with the +English associations of many of the Protestant ministers, finally made +the speech of the Scottish pulpit, and later of Scottish religion in +general, if not English, at least as purely English as could be +achieved.</p> + +<p>The process thus begun was carried farther in the next generation +when, in 1603, James VI of Scotland became King of England, and the +Court removed to London. England at that time was, of course, much +more advanced in culture than its poorer neighbor to the north, and +the courtiers<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a> who accompanied James to London found themselves marked +by their speech as provincial, and set themselves to get rid of their +Scotticisms with an eagerness in proportion to their social +aspirations. Scottish men of letters now came into more intimate +relation with English literature, and finding that writing in English +opened to them a much larger reading public, they naturally adopted +the southern speech in their books. Thus men like Alexander, Earl of +Stirling, and William Drummond of Hawthornden belong both in language +and literary tradition to the English Elizabethans.</p> + +<p>Religion, society, and literature having all thrown their influence +against the native speech of Scotland, it followed that the +seventeenth and eighteenth centuries saw the progressive disuse of +that speech among the upper classes of the country, until by the time +of Burns, Scots was habitually spoken only by the peasantry and the +humbler people in the towns. The distinctions between social classes +in the matter of dialect were, of course, not absolute. Occasional +members even of the aristocracy prided themselves on their command of +the vernacular; and among the country folk there were few who could +not<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a> make a brave attempt at English when they spoke with the laird or +the minister. With Burns himself, Lowland Scots was his customary +speech at home, about the farm, in the tavern and the Freemasons' +lodge; but, as we have seen, his letters, being written mainly to +educated people, are almost all pure English, as was his conversation +with these people when he met them.</p> + +<p>The linguistic situation that has been sketched finds interesting +illustration in the language of Burns's poems. The distinction which +is usually made, that he wrote poetry in Scots and verse in English, +has some basis, but is inaccurately expressed and needs qualification. +The fundamental fact is that for him Scots was the natural language +of the emotions, English of the intellect. The Scots poems are in +general better, not chiefly because they are in Scots but because they +are concerned with matters of natural feeling; the English poems are +in general poetically poorer, not because they are in English but +because they are so frequently the outcome of moods not dominated by +spontaneous emotion, but intellectual, conscious, or theatrical. He +wrote English sometimes as he wore his Sunday blacks, with dignity but +not with ease; sometimes as he wore<a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a> the buff and blue, with buckskins +and top-boots, which he donned in Edinburgh—“like a farmer dressed in +his best to dine with the laird.” In both cases he was capable of +vigorous, common-sense expression; in neither was he likely to exhibit +the imagination, the tenderness, or the humor which characterized the +plowman clad in home-spun.</p> + +<p><i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday Night</a></i> is an interesting illustration of these +distinctions. The opening stanza is a dedicatory address on English +models to a lawyer friend and patron; it is pure English in language, +stiff and imitatively “literary” in style. The stanzas which follow +describing the homecoming of the cotter, the family circle, the +supper, and the daughter's suitor, are in broad Scots, the language +harmonizing perfectly with the theme, and they form poetically the +sound core of the poem. In the description of family worship, Burns +did what his father would do in conducting that worship, adopted +English as more reverent and respectful, but inevitably as more +restrained emotionally; and in the moralizing passage which follows, +as in the apostrophes to Scotia and to the Almighty at the close, he +naturally sticks to English, and in spite of a genuine <a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>enough +exaltation of spirit achieves a result rather rhetorical than +poetical.</p> + +<p>Contrast again songs like <i>Corn Rigs</i> or <i><a href="#WHISTLE_AND_ILL_COME_TO_YE_MY_LAD">Whistle and I'll Come To +Thee, My Lad</a></i>, with most of the songs to Clarinda. The former, in +Scots, are genial, whole-hearted, full of the power of kindling +imaginative sympathy, thoroughly contagious in their lusty emotion or +sly humor. The latter, in English, are stiff, coldly contrived, +consciously elegant or marked by the sentimental factitiousness of the +affair that occasioned them. But their inferiority is due less to the +difference in language than to the difference in the mood. When, +especially at a distance, his relation to Clarinda really touched his +imagination, we have the genuinely poetical <i><a href="#MY_NANNIES_AWA">My Nannie's Awa</a></i> and <i><a href="#AE_FOND_KISS">Ae +Fond Kiss</a></i>. The latter poem can be, with few changes, turned into +English without loss of quality; and its most famous lines have almost +no dialect:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Had we never lov'd sae kindly,</div> +<div class="i0">Had we never lov'd sae blindly,</div> +<div class="i0">Never met—or never parted,</div> +<div class="i0">We had ne'er been broken-hearted.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Finally, there are the English poems to High<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>land Mary. For some +reason not yet fully understood, the affair with Mary Campbell was +treated by him in a spirit of reverence little felt in his other love +poetry, and this spirit was naturally expressed by him in English. But +in the almost English</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">“Ye banks and braes and streams around</div> +<div class="i0">The Castle of Montgomery,”</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">and in the pure English <i><a href="#TO_MARY_IN_HEAVEN">To Mary in Heaven</a></i>, he is not at all hampered +by the use of the Southern speech, Scots would not have heightened the +poetry here, and for Burns Scots would have been less appropriate, +less natural even, for the expression of an almost sacred theme.</p> + +<p>The case, then, seems to stand thus. Burns commanded two languages, +which he employed instinctively for different kinds of subject and +mood. The subjects and moods which evoked vernacular utterance were +those that with all writers are more apt to yield poetry, and in +consequence most of his best poetry is in Scots. But when a theme +naturally evoking English was imaginatively felt by him, the use of +English did not prevent his writing poetically. And there were themes +which he could handle equally well<a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a> in either speech—as we see, for +example, in the songs in <i><a href="#THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS">The Jolly Beggars</a></i>.</p> + +<p>Yet the language had an importance in itself. Though its vocabulary is +limited in matters of science, philosophy, religion, and the like, +Lowland Scots is very rich in homely terms and in humorous and tender +expressions. For love, or for celebrating the effects of whisky, +English is immeasurably inferior. The free use of the diminutive +termination in <i>ie</i> or <i>y</i>—a termination capable of expressing +endearment, familiarity, ridicule, and contempt as well as mere +smallness—not only has considerable effect in emotional shading, but +contributes to the liquidness of the verse by lessening the number of +consonantal endings that make English seem harsh and abrupt to many +foreign ears. Moreover, the very indeterminateness of the dialect, the +possibility of using varying degrees of “broadness,” increased the +facility of rhyming, and added notably to the ease and spontaneity of +composition. Thus in Scots Burns was not only more at home, but had a +medium in some respects more plastic than English.</p> + +<p>Language, however, was not the only element in his inheritance which +helped to determine the<a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a> nature and quality of Burns's production. He +was extremely sensitive to suggestion from his predecessors, and +frankly avowed his obligations to them, so that to estimate his +originality it is necessary to know something of the men at whose +flame he kindled.</p> + +<p>As the Northern dialect of English was, before the Reformation, in a +fair way to become an independent national speech, so literature north +of the Tweed had promise of a development, not indeed independent, but +distinct. Of the writers of the Middle Scots period, Henryson and +Dunbar, Douglas and Lindesay, Burns, it is true, knew little; and the +tradition that they founded underwent in the latter part of the +sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth centuries an experience in +many respects parallel to that which has been described in the matter +of language. The effect of the Reformation upon all forms of artistic +creation will be discussed when we come to speak particularly of the +history of Scottish song; for the moment it is sufficient to say that +the absorption in theological controversy was unfavorable to the +continuation of a poetical development. Under James VI, however, there +were a few writers who maintained the tradition, notably<a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a> Alexander +Montgomery, Alexander Scott, and the Sempills. To the first of these +is to be credited the invention of the stanza called, from the poems +in which Montgomery used it, the stanza of <i>The Banks of Helicon</i> or +of <i>The Cherry and the Slae</i>. It was imitated by some of Montgomery's +contemporaries, revived by Allan Ramsay, and thus came to Burns down a +line purely Scottish, as it never seems to have been used in any other +tongue. He first employed it in the <i><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_DAVIE_A_BROTHER_POET">Epistle to Davie</a></i>, and it was +made by him the medium of some of his most characteristic ideas.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's no in titles nor in rank:</div> +<div class="i0">It's no in wealth like Lon'on Bank,</div> +<div class="i4">To purchase peace and rest.</div> +<div class="i0">It's no in makin muckle, mair, <span class="sidenote">much, more</span> </div> +<div class="i0">It's no in books, it's no in lear, <span class="sidenote">learning</span> </div> +<div class="i4">To make us truly blest:</div> +<div class="i0">If happiness hae not her seat</div> +<div class="i4">An' centre in the breast,</div> +<div class="i0">We may be wise, or rich, or great,</div> +<div class="i4">But never can be blest!</div> +<div class="i2">Nae treasures nor pleasures</div> +<div class="i4">Could make us happy lang;</div> +<div class="i2">The <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original reads 'heart's aye's'">heart aye's</ins> the part aye</div> +<div class="i4">That makes us right or wrang.</div> +</div></div> + +<p><i>The Piper of Kilbarchan</i>, by Sir Robert Sempill of Beltrees +(1595?-1661?), set a model for<a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a> the humorous elegy on the living which +reached Burns through Ramsay and Fergusson, and was followed by him in +those on Poor Mailie and Tam Samson. The stanza in which it is written +is far older than Sempill, having been traced as far back as the +troubadours in the twelfth century, and being found frequently in both +English and French through the Middle Ages; but from the time of +Sempill on, it was cultivated with peculiar intensity in Scotland, and +is the medium of so many of Burns's best-known pieces that it is often +called Burns's stanza.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lament in rhyme, lament in prose,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' saut tears tricklin' down your nose;</div> +<div class="i0">Our Bardie's fate is at a close,</div> +<div class="i12">Past a' remead;</div> +<div class="i0">The last, sad cape-stane o' his woe's—</div> +<div class="i12">Poor Mailie's dead!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The seventeenth century was a barren one for Scottish literature. The +attraction of the larger English public and the disuse of the +vernacular among the upper classes already discussed, drew to the +South or to the Southern speech whatever literary talent appeared in +the North, and it seemed for a time that, except for the obscure +stream of folk poetry, Scottish vernacular litera<a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>ture was at an end. +In the beginning of the eighteenth century, however, interest began to +revive. In 1706-9-11 James Watson published the three volumes of his +<i>Choice Collection of Comic and Serious Scots Poems</i>, and in the third +decade began to appear Allan Ramsay's <i>Tea Table Miscellany</i> +(1724-40). These collections rescued from oblivion a large quantity of +vernacular verse, some of it drawn from manuscripts of pre-Reformation +poetry, some of it contemporary, some of it anonymous and of uncertain +date, having come down orally or in chap-books and broadsides. The +welcome given to these volumes was an early instance of that renewed +interest in older and more primitive literature that was manifested +still more strikingly when Percy published his <i>Reliques of Ancient +English Poetry</i> in 1765. Its influence on the production of vernacular +literature was evident at once in the original work of Ramsay himself; +and the movement which culminated in Burns, though having its roots +far back in the work of Henryson and Dunbar, was in effect a Scottish +renascence, in which the chief agents before Burns were Hamilton of +Gilbertfield, Ramsay himself, Robert Fergusson, and <a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>song-writers like +Mrs. Cockburn and Lady Anne Lindsay.</p> + +<p>Of this fact Burns was perfectly aware, and he was not only candid but +generous in his acknowledgment of his debt to his immediate +predecessors.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My senses wad be in a creel, <span class="sidenote">head would be turned</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Should I but dare a hope to speel, <span class="sidenote">climb</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' Allan, or wi' Gilbertfield,</div> +<div class="i4">The braes o' fame; <span class="sidenote">hills</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or Fergusson, the writer-chiel, <span class="sidenote">lawyer-fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i4">A deathless name.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>He knew Ramsay's collection and had a perhaps exaggerated admiration +for <i>The Gentle Shepherd</i>. This poem, published in 1728, not only +holds a unique position in the history of the pastoral drama, but is +important in the present connection as being to Burns the most signal +evidence of the possibility of a dignified literature in the modern +vernacular. Hamilton and Ramsay had exchanged rhyming epistles in the +six-line stanza, and in these Burns found the model for his own +epistles. Hamilton's <i>Last Dying Words of Bonny Heck</i>—a favorite +grey-hound—had been imitated by Ramsay in <i>Lucky Spence's Last +Advice</i> and the <i>Last Speech of a <a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>Wretched Miser</i>, and the form had +become a Scottish convention before Burns produced his <i><a href="#THE_DEATH_AND_DYING_WORDS_OF_POOR_MAILIE_THE_AUTHORS_ONLY_PET_YOWE">Death and +Dying Words of Poor Mailie</a></i>. As important as any of these was the +example set by Ramsay and bettered by Burns of refurbishing old +indecent or fragmentary songs. Robert Fergusson (1750-1774) was +regarded by Burns still more highly than Ramsay, and his influence was +even more potent. In his autobiographical letter to Doctor Moore he +tells that about 1782 he had all but given up rhyming: “but meeting +with Fergusson's <i>Scotch Poems</i>, I strung anew my wildly-sounding, +rustic lyre with emulating vigour.” In the preface to the Kilmarnock +edition he is still more explicit as to his attitude.</p> + +<blockquote><p>“To the poems of a Ramsay, or the glorious dawnings of the poor, +unfortunate Fergusson, he, with equal unaffected sincerity, +declares, that, even in the highest pulse of vanity, he has not +the most distant pretensions. These two justly admired Scotch +Poets he has often had in his eye in the following pieces; but +rather with a view to kindle at their flame, than for servile +imitation.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>To be more specific, Burns found the model<a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a> for his <i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">Cotter's Saturday +Night</a></i> in Fergusson's <i>Farmer's Ingle</i>, for <i><a href="#THE_HOLY_FAIR">The Holy Fair</a></i> in his +<i>Leith Races</i>, for <i><a href="#SCOTCH_DRINK">Scotch Drink</a></i> in his <i>Caller Water</i>, for <i><a href="#THE_TWA_DOGS">The Twa +Dogs</a></i> and <i>The Brigs of Ayr</i> in his <i>Planestanes and Causey</i>, and +<i>Kirkyard Eclogues</i>. In later years Burns grew somewhat more critical +of Ramsay, especially as a reviser of old songs; but for Fergusson he +retained to the end a sympathetic admiration. When he went to +Edinburgh, one of his first places of pilgrimage was the grave of him +whom he apostrophized thus,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O thou, my elder brother in misfortune,</div> +<div class="i0">By far my elder brother in the muse!</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">And he later obtained from the managers of the Canongate Kirk +permission to erect a stone over the tomb.</p> + +<p>The fact, then, that Burns owed much to the tradition of vernacular +poetry in Scotland and especially to his immediate predecessors is no +new discovery, however recent critics may have plumed themselves upon +it. Burns knew it well, and was ever ready to acknowledge it. What is +more important than the mere fact of his inheritance is the use he +made of it. In taking from<a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a> his elders the fruits of their experience +in poetical conception and metrical arrangement, he but did what +artists have always done; in outdistancing these elders and in almost +every case surpassing their achievement on the lines they had laid +down, he did what only the greater artists succeed in doing. It is not +in mere inventiveness and novelty but in first-hand energy of +conception, in mastering for himself the old thought and the old form +and uttering them with his personal stamp, in making them carry over +to the reader with a new force or vividness or beauty, that the poet's +originality consists. In these respects Burns's originality is no whit +lessened by an explicit recognition of his indebtedness to the stock +from which he grew.</p> + +<p>His relation to the purely English literature which he read is +different and produced very different results. Shakespeare he +reverenced, and that he knew him well is shown by the frequency of +Shakespearean turns of phrase in his letters, as well as by direct +quotation. But of influence upon his poetry there is little trace. He +had a profound admiration for the indomitable will of Milton's Satan, +and he makes it clear that this admiration affected his conduct. The +most fre<a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>quent praise of English writers in his letters is, however, +given to the eighteenth-century authors—to Pope, Thomson, Shenstone, +Gray, Young, Blair, Beattie, and Goldsmith in verse, to Sterne, +Smollett, and Henry Mackenzie in prose. Echoes of these poets are +common in his work, and the most frigid of his English verses show +their influence most clearly. To the sentimental tendency in the +thought of the eighteenth century he was highly responsive, and the +expression of it in <i>The Man of Feeling</i> appealed to him especially. +In a mood which recurred painfully often he was apt to pride himself +on his “sensibility”: the letters to Clarinda are full of it. The less +fortunate effects of it are seen both in his conduct and in his poems +in a fondness for nursing his emotions and extracting pleasure from +his supposed miseries; the more fortunate aspects are reflected in the +tender humanity of poems like those <i><a href="#TO_A_MOUSE">To a Mouse</a></i>, <i>On Seeing a Wounded +Hare</i>, and <i><a href="#TO_A_MOUNTAIN_DAISY">To a Daisy</a></i>—perhaps even in the <i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL">Address to the Deil</a></i>. He +had naturally a warm heart and strong impulses; it is only when an +element of consciousness or mawkishness appears that his “sensibility” +is to be ascribed to the fashionable philosophy<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a> of the day and the +influence of his English models.</p> + +<p>For better or worse, then, Burns belongs to the literary history of +Britain as a legitimate descendant of easily traced ancestors. Like +other great writers he made original contributions from his individual +temperament and from his particular environment and experience. But +these do not obliterate the marks of his descent, nor are they so +numerous or powerful as to give support to the old myth of the “rustic +phenomenon,” the isolated poetical miracle appearing in defiance of +the ordinary laws of literary dependence and tradition.</p> + +<p>If this is true of his models it is no less true of his methods. +Though simplicity and spontaneity are among the most obvious of the +qualities of his work, it is not to be supposed that such effects were +obtained by a birdlike improvisation. “All my poetry,” he said, “is +the effect of easy composition but laborious correction,” and the +careful critic will perceive ample evidence in support of the +statement. We shall see in the next chapter with what pains he fitted +words to melody in his songs; an examination of the variant<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a> readings +which make the establishment of his text peculiarly difficult shows +abundant traces of deliberation and the labor of the file. In the +following song, the first four lines of which are old, it is +interesting to note that, though he preserves admirably the tone of +the fragment which gave him the impulse and the idea, the twelve lines +which he added are in the effects produced by manipulation of the +consonants and vowels and in the use of internal rhyme a triumph of +conscious artistic skill. The interest in technique which this implies +is exhibited farther in many passages of his letters, especially those +to George Thomson.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="GO_FETCH_TO_ME_A_PINT_O_WINE" id="GO_FETCH_TO_ME_A_PINT_O_WINE"></a>GO FETCH TO ME A PINT O' WINE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Go fetch to me a pint o' wine,</div> +<div class="i2">An' fill it in a silver tassie; <span class="sidenote">goblet</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That I may drink, before I go,</div> +<div class="i2">A service to my bonnie lassie.</div> +<div class="i0">The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,</div> +<div class="i2">Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry, <span class="sidenote">from</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The ship rides by the Berwick-law,</div> +<div class="i2">And I maun leave my bonnie Mary. <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The trumpets sound, the banners fly,</div> +<div class="i2">The glittering spears are rankèd ready;</div> +<div class="i0">The shouts o' war are heard afar,</div> +<div class="i2">The battle closes thick and bloody;</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>But it's no the roar o' sea or shore</div> +<div class="i2">Wad mak me langer wish to tarry;</div> +<div class="i0">Nor shout o' war that's heard afar,</div> +<div class="i2">It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.</div> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /><br />BURNS AND SCOTTISH SONG</h2> + + +<p>With song-writing Burns began his poetical career, with song-writing +he closed it; and, brilliant as was his achievement in other fields, +it is as a song-writer that he ranks highest among his peers, it is +through his songs that he has rooted himself most deeply in the hearts +of his countrymen.</p> + +<p>The most notable and significant fact in connection with his making of +songs is their relation to the melodies to which they are sung. In the +vast majority of cases these are old Scottish tunes, which were known +to Burns before he wrote his songs, and were singing in his ear during +the process of composition. The poet was no technical musician. +Murdoch, his first teacher, says that Robert and Gilbert Burns “were +left far behind by all the rest of the school” when he tried to teach +them a little church music, “Robert's ear, in particular, was +remarkably dull, and<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a> his voice untunable. It was long before I could +get them to distinguish one tune from another.” Either Murdoch +exaggerated, or the poet's ear developed later (Murdoch is speaking of +him between the ages of six and nine); for he learned to fiddle a +little, once at least attempted to compose an air, could read music +fairly easily, and could write down a melody from memory. His +correspondence with Johnson and Thomson shows that he knew a vast +number of old tunes and was very sensitive to their individual quality +and suggestion.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Such a sentence as the following from<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a> one of his +Commonplace Books shows how important his responsiveness to music was +for his poetical composition.</p> + +<blockquote><p>“These old Scottish airs are so nobly sentimental that when one +would compose to them, to <i>south</i> the tune, as our Scottish phrase +is, over and over, is the readiest way to catch the inspiration +and raise the Bard into that glorious enthusiasm so strongly +characteristic of our old Scotch Poetry.”</p></blockquote> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span> </a> The question of the nature and extent of Burns's musical +abilities may be summed up in the words of the latest and most +thorough student of his melodies:—“His knowledge of music was in fact +elemental; his taste lay entirely in melody, without ever reaching an +appreciation of contra-puntal or harmonious music. Nor, although in +his youth he had learned the grammar of music and become acquainted +with clefs, keys, and notes at the rehearsals of church music, which +were in his day a practical part of the education of the Scottish +peasantry, did he ever arrive at composition, except in the case of +one melody which he composed for a song of his own at the age of about +twenty-three, and this melody displeased him so much that he destroyed +it and never attempted another. In the same way, although he practised +the violin, he did not attain to excellence in execution, his playing +being confined to strathspeys and other slow airs of the pathetic +kind. On the other hand, his perception and his love of music are +undeniable. For example, he possessed copies of the principal +collections of Scottish vocal and instrumental music of the eighteenth +century, and repeatedly refers to them in the Museum and in his +letters. His copy of the <i>Caledonian Pocket Companion</i> (the largest +collection of Scottish music), which copy still exists with pencil +notes in his handwriting, proves that he was familiar with the whole +contents. At intervals in his writings he names at least a dozen +different collections to which he refers and from which he quotes with +personal knowledge. Also he knew several hundred different airs, not +vaguely and in a misty way, but accurately as regards tune, time, and +rhythm, so that he could distinguish one from another, and describe +minute variations in the several copies of any tune which passed +through his hands.... Many of the airs he studied and selected for his +verses were either pure instrumental tunes, never before set to words, +or the airs (from dance books) of lost songs, with the first lines as +titles.”—(James C. Dick, <i>The Songs of Robert Burns</i>, 1903, Preface, +pp. viii, ix.)</p></div> + +<p>Again, once when Thomson had sent him a tune to be fitted with words, +he replied:</p> + +<blockquote><p>“<i>Laddie lie near me</i> must <i>lie by me</i> for some time. I do not +know the air; and until I am complete master of a tune in my own +singing (such as it is), I never can compose for it. My way is: I +consider the poetic sentiment correspondent to my idea of the +musical expression; then choose my theme; begin one stanza; when +that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a> of +the business, I walk out, sit down now and then, look out for +subjects in nature around me that are in unison and harmony with +the cogitations of my fancy and workings of my bosom, humming +every now and then the air with the verses I have framed. When I +feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the solitary fireside +of my study, and then commit my effusion to paper; swinging at +intervals on the hindlegs of my elbow chair, by way of calling +forth my own critical strictures as my pen goes on. Seriously, +this at home is almost invariably my way.” [September, 1793.]</p></blockquote> + +<p>His wife, who had a good voice and a wide knowledge of folk-song, +seems often to have been of assistance, and a further interesting +detail is given by Sir James Stuart-Menteath from the evidence of a +Mrs. Christina Flint.</p> + +<blockquote><p>“When Burns dwelt at Ellisland, he was accustomed, after composing +any of his beautiful songs, to pay Kirsty a visit, that he might +hear them sung by her. He often stopped her in the course of the +singing when he found any word harsh and grating to his ear, and +substituted one<a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a> more melodious and pleasing. From Kirsty's extensive +acquaintance with the old Scottish airs, she was +frequently able to suggest to the poet music more suitable to the +song she was singing than that to which he had set it.”</p></blockquote> + +<p>Kirsty and Jean were not his only aids in the criticism of the musical +quality of his songs. From the time of the Edinburgh visit, at least, +he was in the habit of seizing the opportunity afforded by the +possession of a harpsichord or a good voice by the daughters of his +friends, and in several cases he rewarded his accompanist by making +her the heroine of the song. Without drawing on the evidence of +parallel phenomena in other ages and literatures, we can be sure +enough that this persistent consciousness of the airs to which his +songs were to be sung, and this critical observation of their fitness, +had much to do with the extraordinary melodiousness of so many of +them.</p> + +<p>We have seen that Burns received an important impulse to +productiveness through his cooperation in the compiling of two +national song collections. James Johnson, the editor of the first of +these, was an all but illiterate engraver,<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a> ill-equipped for such an +undertaking; and as the work grew in scale until it reached six +volumes, Burns became virtually the editor—even writing the prefaces +to several of the volumes. George Thomson, the editor of the other, <i>A +Select Collection of Original Scottish Airs</i>, was a government clerk, +an amateur in music, of indifferent taste and with a preference for +English to the vernacular. In his collection the airs were harmonized +by Pleyel, Kozeluch, Haydn, and Beethoven; and he had the impudence to +meddle with the contributions both of Burns and of the eminent +composers who arranged the melodies. Nothing is more striking than the +patience and modesty of Burns in tolerating the criticism and +alterations of Thomson. The main purpose in both <i>The Scots Musical +Museum</i> and the <i>Select Collection</i> was the preservation of the +national melodies, but when the editors came to seek words to go with +them they found themselves confronted with a difficult problem. To +understand its nature, it will be necessary to extend our historical +survey.</p> + +<p>In addition to the effects of the Reformation in Scotland already +indicated, there was another even more serious for arts and letters. +The re<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>action against Catholicism in Scotland was peculiarly violent, +and the form of Protestantism which replaced it was extremely +puritanical. In the matter of intellectual education, it is true, +Knox's ideas and institutions were enlightened, and have borne +important fruit in making prevail in his country an uncommonly high +level of general education and a reverence for learning. But on the +artistic side the reformed ministers were the enemies not only of +everything that suggested the ornateness of the old religion, but of +beauty in every form. Under their influence, an influence +extraordinarily pervasive and despotic, art and song were suppressed, +and Scotland was left a very mirthless country, absorbed in +theological and political discussion, and having little outlet for the +instinct of sport except heresy-hunting.</p> + +<p>Such at least seemed to be the case on the surface. But human nature +is not to be totally changed even by such a force as the Reformation. +Especially among the peasantry occasions recurred—weddings, funerals, +harvest-homes, New-Year's Eves, and the like—when, the minister being +at a safe distance and whisky having relaxed the awe of the kirk +session, the “wee sinfu'<a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a> fiddle” was produced, and song and the dance +broke forth. It was under such clandestine conditions that the +traditional songs of Scotland had been handed down for some +generations before Burns's day, and the conditions had gravely +affected their character. The melodies could not be stained, but the +words had degenerated until they had lost most of whatever imaginative +quality they had possessed, and had acquired instead only grossness.</p> + +<p>Such words, it was clear, Johnson could not use in his <i>Museum</i>, and +the discovery of Burns was to him the most extraordinary good fortune. +For Burns not only knew, as we have seen, the old songs—words and +airs—by the score, but was able to purify, complete, or replace the +words according to the degree of their corruption. Various poets have +caught up scraps of folk-song and woven them into their verse; but +nowhere else has a poet of the people appeared with such a rare +combination of original genius and sympathetic feeling for the tone +and accent of the popular muse, as enabled Burns to recreate Scottish +song. If patriotic Scots wish to justify the achievement of Burns on +moral grounds, it is here that their argument lies: for whatever of +coarse<a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>ness and license there may have been in his life and writings, +it is surely more than counter-balanced by the restoration to his +people of the possibility of national music and clean mirth.</p> + +<p>One can not classify the songs of Burns into two clearly separated +groups, original and remodeled, for no hard lines can be drawn. Since +he practically always began with the tune, he frequently used the +title or the first line of the old song. He might do this, yet +completely change the idea; or he might retain the idea but use none +of the old words. In other cases the first stanza or the chorus is +retained; in still others the new song is sprinkled with here a phrase +and there an epithet recalling the derelict that gave rise to it. Some +are made up of stanzas from several different predecessors, others are +almost centos of stock phrases.</p> + +<p>The contribution thus made to Johnson's collection, of songs rescued +or remade or wholly original, amounted to some one hundred +eighty-four; to Thomson's about sixty-four. Some examples will make +clear the nature of his services.</p> + +<p><i><a href="#AULD_LANG_SYNE">Auld Lang Syne</a></i>, perhaps the most wide-spread of all songs among the +English-speaking peoples,<a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a> is in its oldest extant form attributed on +uncertain grounds to Francis Sempill of Beltrees or Sir Robert +Aytoun.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> That still older forms had existed appears from its title +in the broadside in which it is preserved:</p> + +<blockquote><p>“An excellent and proper new ballad, entitled Old Long Syne. Newly +corrected and amended, with a large and new edition [sic] of +several excellent love lines.”</p></blockquote> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span> </a> The melody to which the song is now sung is not that to +which Burns wrote it, but was an old strathspey tune. It is possible, +however, that he agreed to its adoption by Thomson.</p></div> + +<p>It opens thus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Should old acquaintance be forgot</div> +<div class="i2">And never thought upon,</div> +<div class="i0">The Flames of Love extinguishèd</div> +<div class="i2">And freely past and gone?</div> +<div class="i0">Is thy kind Heart now grown so cold</div> +<div class="i2">In that Loving Breast of thine,</div> +<div class="i0">That thou can'st never once reflect</div> +<div class="i2">On old-long-syne.</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">And so on, for eighty lines.</p> + +<p>Allan Ramsay rewrote it for his <i>Tea-Table Miscellany</i> (1724), and a +specimen stanza will show that it was still going down-hill:</p> +<div class="poem"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Should auld acquaintance be forgot</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' they return with scars?</div> +<div class="i0">These are the noble hero's lot,</div> +<div class="i2">Obtain'd in glorious wars;</div> +<div class="i0">Welcome, my Varo, to my breast,</div> +<div class="i2">Thy arms about me twine,</div> +<div class="i0">And make me once again as blest</div> +<div class="i2">As I was lang syne.</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">The remaining four stanzas are worse. Burns may have had further hints +to work on which are now lost; but the best, part of the song, stanzas +three and four, are certainly his, and it is unlikely that he +inherited more than some form of the first verse and the chorus.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="AULD_LANG_SYNE" id="AULD_LANG_SYNE"></a>AULD LANG SYNE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Should auld acquaintance be forgot <span class="sidenote">old</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And never brought to min'? <span class="sidenote">mind</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Should auld acquaintance be forgot,</div> +<div class="i2">And auld lang syne? <span class="sidenote">long ago</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">For auld lang syne, my dear.</div> +<div class="i6">For auld lang syne,</div> +<div class="i4">We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,</div> +<div class="i6">For auld lang syne.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp, <span class="sidenote">will pay for</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And surely I'll be mine;</div> +<div class="i0">And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet</div> +<div class="i2">For auld lang syne.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a> +<div class="i0">We twa hae run about the braes, <span class="sidenote">two have, hillsides</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And pu'd the gowans fine; <span class="sidenote">pulled, daisies</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But we've wander'd mony a weary foot</div> +<div class="i2">Sin' auld lang syne.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">We twa hae paidled i' the burn, <span class="sidenote">waded, brook</span> </div> +<div class="i2">From morning sun till dine; <span class="sidenote">noon</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But seas between us braid hae roar'd <span class="sidenote">broad</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Sin' auld lang syne.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And there's a hand, my trusty fiere, <span class="sidenote">comrade</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And gie's a hand o' thine; <span class="sidenote">give me</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught, <span class="sidenote">draught of good will</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For auld lang syne.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>A more remarkable case of patchwork is <i><a href="#MY_LOVE_IS_LIKE_A_RED_RED_ROSE">A Red, Red Rose</a></i>. Antiquarian +research has discovered in chap-books and similar sources four songs, +from each of which a stanza, in some such form as follows, seems to +have proved suggestive to Burns:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<ol> +<li><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Her cheeks are like the Roses</div> +<div class="i2">That blossom fresh in June,</div> +<div class="i0">O, she's like a new strung instrument</div> +<div class="i2">That's newly put in tune.</div> +</div></li><li><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Altho' I go a thousand miles</div> +<div class="i2">I vow thy face to see,</div> +<div class="i0">Altho' I go ten thousand miles</div> +<div class="i0">I'll come again to thee, dear Love,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll come again to thee.</div> +</div></li><li><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>The seas they shall run dry,</div> +<div class="i2">And rocks melt into sands;</div> +<div class="i0">Then I'll love you still, my dear,</div> +<div class="i2">When all those things are done.</div> +</div></li><li><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Fare you well, my own true love,</div> +<div class="i2">And fare you well for a while,</div> +<div class="i0">And I will be sure to return back again,</div> +<div class="i2">If I go ten thousand mile.</div> +</div></li></ol></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">The genealogy of the lyric is still more complicated than these +sources imply, but the specimens given are enough to show the nature +of the ore from which Burns extracted the pure gold of his well-known +song:</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MY_LOVE_IS_LIKE_A_RED_RED_ROSE" id="MY_LOVE_IS_LIKE_A_RED_RED_ROSE"></a>MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED RED ROSE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, my love is like a red red rose</div> +<div class="i2">That's newly sprung in June:</div> +<div class="i0">O, my love is like the melodie</div> +<div class="i2">That's sweetly play'd in tune.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,</div> +<div class="i2">So deep in love am I:</div> +<div class="i0">And I will love thee still, my dear,</div> +<div class="i2">Till a' the seas gang dry. <span class="sidenote">go</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,</div> +<div class="i2">And the rocks melt wi' the sun:</div> +<div class="i0">And I will love thee still, my dear,</div> +<div class="i2">While the sands o' life shall run.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a> +<div class="i0">And fare thee weel, my only love,</div> +<div class="i2">And fare thee weel a while!</div> +<div class="i0">And I will come again, my love,</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' it were ten thousand mile.</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">Of the songs already quoted, the germ of <i><a href="#AE_FOND_KISS">Ae Fond Kiss</a></i> lies in the +first line of Robert Dodsley's <i>Parting Kiss</i>,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">“One fond kiss before we part;”</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;"><i><a href="#I_HAE_A_WIFE">I Hae a Wife o' My Ain</a></i>, borrows with slight modification the first +two lines; a model for <i><a href="#MY_NANNIE_O">My Nannie O</a></i> has been found in an anonymous +eighteenth-century fragment as well as in a song of Ramsay's, but +neither contributes more than the phrase which names the tune as well +as the words; <i><a href="#THE_RIGS_O_BARLEY">The Rigs o' Barley</a></i> was suggested by a verse of an old +song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, corn rigs and rye rigs,</div> +<div class="i2">O, corn rigs are bonie;</div> +<div class="i0">And whene'er you meet a bonie lass</div> +<div class="i2">Preen up her cockernonie.</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;"><i><a href="#HANDSOME_NELL">Handsome Nell</a></i>, <i><a href="#MARY_MORISON">Mary Morison</a></i>, <i><a href="#WILL_YE_GO_TO_THE_INDIES_MY_MARY">Will Ye Go to the Indies</a></i>, <i><a href="#THE_GLOOMY_NIGHT">The +Gloomy Nigh</a>t</i>, and <i><a href="#MY_NANNIES_AWA">My Nannie's Awa</a></i> are entirely original; and a +comparison of their poetical quality with those having their<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a> model or +starting point in an older song will show that, however brilliantly +Burns acquitted himself in his task of refurbishing traditional +material, he was in no way dependent upon such material for +inspiration.</p> + +<p>From what has been said of the occasions of these verses, however, it +is clear that inspiration from the outside was not lacking. The +traditional association of wine, woman, and song certainly held for +Burns, nearly all his lyrics being the outcome of his devotion to at +least two of these, some of them, like the following, to all three.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="YESTREEN_I_HAD_A_PINT_O_WINE" id="YESTREEN_I_HAD_A_PINT_O_WINE"></a>YESTREEN I HAD A PINT O' WINE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Yestreen I had a pint o' wine, <span class="sidenote">Last night</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A place where body saw na'; <span class="sidenote">nobody saw</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine</div> +<div class="i2">The gowden locks of Anna. <span class="sidenote">golden</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The hungry Jew in wilderness</div> +<div class="i2">Rejoicing o'er his manna,</div> +<div class="i0">Was naething to my hinny bliss <span class="sidenote">honey</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Upon the lips of Anna.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye monarchs, tak the east and west,</div> +<div class="i2">Frae Indus to Savannah!</div> +<div class="i0">Gie me within my straining grasp</div> +<div class="i2">The melting form of Anna.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a>There I'll despise imperial charms,</div> +<div class="i2">An Empress or Sultana,</div> +<div class="i0">While dying raptures in her arms</div> +<div class="i2">I give and take with Anna!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Awa, thou flaunting god o' day!</div> +<div class="i2">Awa, thou pale Diana!</div> +<div class="i0">Ilk star, gae hide thy twinkling ray <span class="sidenote">Each, go</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When I'm to meet my Anna.</div> +<div class="i0">Come, in thy raven plumage, night!</div> +<div class="i2">(Sun, moon, and stars withdrawn a')</div> +<div class="i0">And bring an angel pen to write</div> +<div class="i2">My transports wi' my Anna!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i8">(<i>Postscript</i>)</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The kirk and state may join, and tell</div> +<div class="i2">To do such things I mauna: <span class="sidenote">must not</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The kirk and state may gae to hell,</div> +<div class="i2">And I'll gae to my Anna.</div> +<div class="i0">She is the sunshine o' my ee,</div> +<div class="i2">To live but her I canna; <span class="sidenote">without</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Had I on earth but wishes three,</div> +<div class="i2">The first should be my Anna.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Nothing could be more hopeless than to attempt to classify Burns's +songs according to the amours that occasioned them, and to seek to +find a constant relation between the reality and intensity of the +passion and the vitality of the poetry. At times some relation does +seem apparent, as we<a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a> may discern beneath the vigor of the song just +quoted a trace of a conscious attempt to brave his conscience in +connection with the one proved infidelity to Jean after his marriage. +Again, in such songs as <i><a href="#OF_A_THE_AIRTS">Of a' the Airts</a></i>, <i><a href="#POORTITH_CAULD">Poortith Cauld</a></i>, and +others addressed to Jean herself, we have an expression of his less +than rapturous but entirely genuine affection for his wife.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="OF_A_THE_AIRTS" id="OF_A_THE_AIRTS"></a>OF A' THE AIRTS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, <span class="sidenote">directions</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I dearly like the west,</div> +<div class="i0">For there the bonnie lassie lives,</div> +<div class="i2">The lassie I lo'e best: <span class="sidenote">love</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There wild woods grow, and rivers row, <span class="sidenote">roll</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And mony a hill between;</div> +<div class="i0">But day and night my fancy's flight</div> +<div class="i2">Is ever wi' my Jean.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I see her in the dewy flowers,</div> +<div class="i2">I see her sweet and fair:</div> +<div class="i0">I hear her in the tunefu' birds,</div> +<div class="i2">I hear her charm the air:</div> +<div class="i0">There's not a bonnie flower that springs</div> +<div class="i2">By fountain, shaw, or green; <span class="sidenote">woodland</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There's not a bonnie bird that sings,</div> +<div class="i2">But minds me o' my Jean.</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a><a name="O_THIS_IS_NO_MY_AIN_LASSIE" id="O_THIS_IS_NO_MY_AIN_LASSIE"></a>O THIS IS NO MY AIN LASSIE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">O this is no my ain lassie,</div> +<div class="i6">Fair tho' the lassie be;</div> +<div class="i4">O weel ken I my ain lassie,</div> +<div class="i6">Kind love is in her e'e.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I see a form, I see a face,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye weel may wi' the fairest place:</div> +<div class="i0">It wants, to me, the witching grace,</div> +<div class="i2">The kind love that's in her e'e.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She's bonnie, blooming, straight, and tall,</div> +<div class="i0">And lang has had my heart in thrall;</div> +<div class="i0">And aye it charms my very saul, <span class="sidenote">soul</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The kind love that's in her e'e.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A thief sae pawkie is my Jean, <span class="sidenote">sly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To steal a blink, by a' unseen; <span class="sidenote">glance</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But gleg as light are lovers' e'en, <span class="sidenote">nimble, eyes</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When kind love is in the e'e.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It may escape the courtly sparks,</div> +<div class="i0">It may escape the learnèd clerks;</div> +<div class="i0">But weel the watching lover marks</div> +<div class="i0">The kind love that's in her e'e.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="POORTITH_CAULD" id="POORTITH_CAULD"></a>POORTITH CAULD</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O poortith cauld, and restless love, <span class="sidenote">cold poverty</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Ye wreck my peace between ye;</div> +<div class="i0">Yet poortith a' I could forgive,</div> +<div class="i2">An' 'twere na for my Jeanie. <span class="sidenote">If 'twere not</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a> +<div class="i4">O why should fate sic pleasure have, <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Life's dearest bands untwining?</div> +<div class="i4">Or why sae sweet a flower as love</div> +<div class="i6">Depend on Fortune's shining?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The warld's wealth when I think on,</div> +<div class="i2">Its pride, and a' the lave o't,—<span class="sidenote">rest</span> </div> +<div class="i0">My curse on silly coward man,</div> +<div class="i2">That he should be the slave o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Her een sae bonnie blue betray</div> +<div class="i2">How she repays my passion;</div> +<div class="i0">But prudence is her o'erword aye, <span class="sidenote">refrain</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She talks of rank and fashion.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O wha can prudence think upon,</div> +<div class="i2">And sic a lassie by him?</div> +<div class="i0">O wha can prudence think upon,</div> +<div class="i2">And sae in love as I am?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How blest the wild-wood Indian's fate!</div> +<div class="i2">He woos his artless dearie—</div> +<div class="i0">The silly bogles, Wealth and State, <span class="sidenote">goblins</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Can never make him eerie. <span class="sidenote">afraid</span> </div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MY_WIFES_A_WINSOME_WEE_THING" id="MY_WIFES_A_WINSOME_WEE_THING"></a>MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She is a winsome wee thing,</div> +<div class="i0">She is a handsome wee thing,</div> +<div class="i0">She is a lo'esome wee thing,</div> +<div class="i2">This sweet wee wife o' mine.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a> +<div class="i0">I never saw a fairer,</div> +<div class="i0">I never lo'ed a dearer,</div> +<div class="i0">And neist my heart I'll wear her, <span class="sidenote">next</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For fear my jewel tine. <span class="sidenote">be lost</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The warld's wrack, we share o't,</div> +<div class="i0">The warstle and the care o't; <span class="sidenote">struggle</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' her I'll blythely bear it,</div> +<div class="i2">And think my lot divine.</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">Similarly, most of the lyrics addressed to Clarinda in Edinburgh are +marked by the sentimentalism and affectation of an affair that engaged +only one side, and that among the least pleasing, of the many-sided +temperament of the poet.</p> + +<p>But, in general, with Burns as with other poets, it was not the +catching of a first-hand emotion at white heat that resulted in the +best poetry, but the stimulating of his imagination by the vision of a +person or a situation that may have had but the hint of a prototype in +the actual. We have already noted that the best of the Clarinda poems +were written in absence, and that they drop the Arcadian names which +typified the make-believe element in that complex affair. So a number +of his most charming songs are addressed to girls of whom he had had +but a glimpse. But that<a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a> glimpse sufficed to kindle him, and for the +poetry it was all advantage that it was no more.</p> + +<p>His relations with women were extremely varied in nature. At one +extreme there were friendships like that with Mrs. Dunlop, the letters +to whom show that their common interests were mainly moral and +intellectual, and were mingled with no emotion more fiery than +gratitude. At the other extreme stand relations like that with Anne +Park, the heroine of <i><a href="#YESTREEN_I_HAD_A_PINT_O_WINE">Yestreen I had a Pint o' Wine</a></i>, which were +purely passionate and transitory. Between these come a long procession +affording excellent material for the ingenuity of those skilled in the +casuistry of the sexes: the boyish flame for Handsome Nell; the +slightly more mature feeling for Ellison Begbie; the various phases of +his passion for Jean Armour; the perhaps partly factitious reverence +for Highland Mary; the respectful adoration for Margaret Chalmers to +whom he is supposed to have proposed marriage in Edinburgh; the +deliberate posing in his compliments to Chloris (Jean Lorimer); the +grateful gallantry to Jessie Lewars, who ministered to him on his +deathbed.</p> + +<p>In the later days in Dumfries, when his vitality was running low and +he was laboring to supply<a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a> Thomson with verses even when the +spontaneous impulse to compose was rare, we find him theorizing on the +necessity of enthroning a goddess for the nonce. Speaking of +<i>Craigieburn-wood</i> and Jean Lorimer, he writes to his prosaic editor:</p> + +<blockquote><p>“The lady on whom it was made is one of the finest women in +Scotland; and in fact (<i>entre nous</i>) is in a manner to me what +Sterne's Eliza was to him—a Mistress, or Friend, or what you +will, in the guileless simplicity of Platonic love. (Now, don't +put any of your squinting constructions on this, or have any +clishmaclaver about it among our acquaintances.) I assure you that +to my lovely Friend you are indebted for many of your best songs +of mine. Do you think that the sober gin-horse routine of +existence could inspire a man with life, and love, and joy—could +fire him with enthusiasm, or melt him with pathos equal to the +genius of your Book? No, no!!! Whenever I want to be more than +ordinary <i>in song</i>; to be in some degree equal to your diviner +airs, do you imagine I fast and pray for the celestial emanation? +<i>Tout au contraire!</i> I have a glorious recipe; the very one that +for his own use was invented by the Divinity of Healing and Poesy +<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>when erst he piped to the flocks of Admetus. I put myself in a +regimen of admiring a fine woman; and in proportion to the +adorability of her charms, in proportion you are delighted with my +verses. The lightning of her eye is the godhead of Parnassus, and +the witchery of her smile the divinity of Helicon!”</p></blockquote> + +<p>Burns is here, of course, on his rhetorical high horse, and the songs +to Chloris hardly bear him out; but there is much in the passage to +enlighten us as to his composing processes. In his younger days his +hot blood welcomed every occasion of emotional experience; toward the +end, he sought such occasions for the sake of the patriotic task that +lightened with its idealism the gathering gloom of his breakdown. But +throughout, and this is the important point to note in relating his +poetry to his life, his one mode of complimentary address to a woman +was in terms of gallantry.</p> + +<p>The following group of love songs illustrate the various phases of his +temperament which we have been discussing. The first two are to Mary +Campbell, and exhibit Burns in his most reverential attitude toward +women:</p> +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a><a name="HIGHLAND_MARY" id="HIGHLAND_MARY"></a>HIGHLAND MARY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye banks, and braes, and streams around</div> +<div class="i2">The castle o' Montgomery,</div> +<div class="i0">Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,</div> +<div class="i2">Your waters never drumlie! <span class="sidenote">muddy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There Simmer first unfauld her robes, <span class="sidenote">may S. f. unfold</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And there the langest tarry;</div> +<div class="i0">For there I took the last fareweel</div> +<div class="i2">O' my sweet Highland Mary.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, <span class="sidenote">birch</span> </div> +<div class="i2">How rich the hawthorn's blossom,</div> +<div class="i0">As underneath their fragrant shade</div> +<div class="i2">I clasp'd her to my bosom!</div> +<div class="i0">The golden hours on angel wings</div> +<div class="i2">Flew o'er me and my dearie;</div> +<div class="i0">For dear to me as light and life</div> +<div class="i2">Was my sweet Highland Mary.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace</div> +<div class="i2">Our parting was fu' tender;</div> +<div class="i0">And, pledging aft to meet again,</div> +<div class="i2">We tore oursels asunder;</div> +<div class="i0">But oh! fell death's untimely frost,</div> +<div class="i2">That nipt my flower sae early!</div> +<div class="i0">Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, <span class="sidenote">cold</span> </div> +<div class="i2">That wraps my Highland Mary!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,</div> +<div class="i2">I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly!</div> +<div class="i0">And closed for aye the sparkling glance,</div> +<div class="i2">That dwelt on me sae kindly!</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>And mould'ring now in silent dust,</div> +<div class="i2">That heart that lo'ed me dearly! <span class="sidenote">loved</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But still within my bosom's core</div> +<div class="i2">Shall live my Highland Mary.</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TO_MARY_IN_HEAVEN" id="TO_MARY_IN_HEAVEN"></a>TO MARY IN HEAVEN</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou lingering star, with lessening ray,</div> +<div class="i2">That lov'st to greet the early morn,</div> +<div class="i0">Again thou usherest in the day</div> +<div class="i2">My Mary from my soul was torn.</div> +<div class="i0">O Mary! dear departed shade!</div> +<div class="i2">Where is thy place of blissful rest?</div> +<div class="i0">Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?</div> +<div class="i2">Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">That sacred hour can I forget?</div> +<div class="i2">Can I forget the hallow'd grove,</div> +<div class="i0">Where by the winding Ayr we met,</div> +<div class="i2">To live one day of parting love?</div> +<div class="i0">Eternity will not efface</div> +<div class="i2">Those records dear of transports past;</div> +<div class="i0">Thy image at our last embrace—</div> +<div class="i2">Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore,</div> +<div class="i2">O'erhung with wild woods, thickening green;</div> +<div class="i0">The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,</div> +<div class="i2">Twin'd amorous round the raptur'd scene.</div> +<div class="i0">The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,</div> +<div class="i2">The birds sang love on ev'ry spray,</div> +<div class="i0">Till too, too soon, the glowing west</div> +<div class="i2">Proclaim'd the speed of wingèd day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a> +<div class="i0">Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes,</div> +<div class="i2">And fondly broods with miser care!</div> +<div class="i0">Time but the impression stronger makes,</div> +<div class="i2">As streams their channels deeper wear.</div> +<div class="i0">My Mary, dear departed shade!</div> +<div class="i2">Where is thy place of blissful rest?</div> +<div class="i0">Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?</div> +<div class="i2">Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The group that follow are addressed either to unknown divinities or to +girls who inspired only a passing devotion. In the case of <i>Bonnie +Lesley</i>, there was no question of a love-affair: the song is merely a +compliment to a young lady he met and admired. <i><a href="#AULD_ROB_MORRIS">Auld Rob Morris</a></i> is +probably purely dramatic.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="CA_THE_YOWES" id="CA_THE_YOWES"></a>CA' THE YOWES<br /><small>(Second Version)</small></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">Ca' the yowes to the knowes, <span class="sidenote">ewes, knolls</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Ca' them where the heather grows,</div> +<div class="i4">Ca' them where the burnie rows, <span class="sidenote">brooklet rolls</span> </div> +<div class="i6">My bonnie dearie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Hark! the mavis' evening sang <span class="sidenote">thrush's</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sounding Clouden's woods amang;</div> +<div class="i0">Then a-faulding let us gang, <span class="sidenote">a-folding, go</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My bonnie dearie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a> +<div class="i0">We'll gae down by Clouden side, <span class="sidenote">go</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thro' the hazels, spreading wide</div> +<div class="i0">O'er the waves that sweetly glide</div> +<div class="i2">To the moon sae clearly.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Yonder Clouden's silent towers,</div> +<div class="i0">Where at moonshine's midnight hours,</div> +<div class="i0">O'er the dewy bending flowers,</div> +<div class="i2">Fairies dance sae cheery.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ghaist nor bogle shall thou fear; <span class="sidenote">Ghost, goblin</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou'rt to Love and Heaven sae dear,</div> +<div class="i0">Nocht of ill may come thee near, <span class="sidenote">Nought</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My bonnie dearie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Fair and lovely as thou art,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou hast stown my very heart; <span class="sidenote">stolen</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I can die—but canna part,</div> +<div class="i2">My bonnie dearie.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="AFTON_WATER" id="AFTON_WATER"></a>AFTON WATER</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,</div> +<div class="i0">Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;</div> +<div class="i0">My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,</div> +<div class="i0">Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,</div> +<div class="i0">I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a> +<div class="i0">How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,</div> +<div class="i0">Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills;</div> +<div class="i0">There daily I wander as noon rises high,</div> +<div class="i0">My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,</div> +<div class="i0">Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;</div> +<div class="i0">There oft as mild Ev'ning weeps over the lea,</div> +<div class="i0">The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. <span class="sidenote">birch</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,</div> +<div class="i0">And winds by the cot where my Mary resides;</div> +<div class="i0">How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,</div> +<div class="i0">As gathering sweet flow'rets she stems thy clear wave.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,</div> +<div class="i0">Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;</div> +<div class="i0">My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,</div> +<div class="i0">Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_BLUE-EYED_LASSIE" id="THE_BLUE-EYED_LASSIE"></a>THE BLUE-EYED LASSIE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen, <span class="sidenote">went, road last night</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A gate, I fear, I'll dearly rue;</div> +<div class="i0">I gat my death frae twa sweet een, <span class="sidenote">got, eyes</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue.</div> +<div class="i0">'Twas not her golden ringlets bright,</div> +<div class="i2">Her lips like roses wat wi' dew, <span class="sidenote">wet</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Her heaving bosom lily-white;</div> +<div class="i2">It was her een sae bonnie blue.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a> +<div class="i0">She talk'd, she smil'd, my heart she wyl'd, <span class="sidenote">beguiled</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She charm'd my soul I wist na how;</div> +<div class="i0">And aye the stound, the deadly wound, <span class="sidenote">pang</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Came frae her een sae bonnie blue. <span class="sidenote">from</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But ‘spare to speak, and spare to speed’—</div> +<div class="i2">She'll aiblins listen to my vow: <span class="sidenote">perhaps</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Should she refuse, I'll lay my dead <span class="sidenote">death</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To her twa een sae bonnie blue.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="BONNIE_LESLEY" id="BONNIE_LESLEY"></a>BONNIE LESLEY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O saw ye bonnie Lesley</div> +<div class="i2">As she gaed o'er the border? <span class="sidenote">went</span> </div> +<div class="i0">She's gane, like Alexander,</div> +<div class="i2">To spread her conquests farther.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">To see her is to love her,</div> +<div class="i2">And love but her for ever;</div> +<div class="i0">For Nature made her what she is,</div> +<div class="i2">And never made anither!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou art a queen, fair Lesley,</div> +<div class="i2">Thy subjects, we before thee:</div> +<div class="i0">Thou art divine, fair Lesley,</div> +<div class="i2">The hearts o' men adore thee.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The Deil he could na scaith thee, <span class="sidenote">harm</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Or aught that wad belang thee;</div> +<div class="i0">He'd look into thy bonnie face,</div> +<div class="i2">And say, ‘I canna wrang thee.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a> +<div class="i0">The Powers aboon will tent thee; <span class="sidenote">above, guard</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Misfortune sha'na steer thee; <span class="sidenote">shall not disturb</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely,</div> +<div class="i2">That ill they'll ne'er let near thee.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Return again, fair Lesley,</div> +<div class="i2">Return to Caledonie!</div> +<div class="i0">That we may brag we hae a lass</div> +<div class="i2">There's nane again sae bonnie. <span class="sidenote">no other</span> </div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="LASSIE_WI_THE_LINT-WHITE_LOCKS" id="LASSIE_WI_THE_LINT-WHITE_LOCKS"></a>LASSIE WI' THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, <span class="sidenote">flaxen</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,</div> +<div class="i4">Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks? <span class="sidenote">watch</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Wilt thou be my dearie, O?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now nature cleeds the flowery lea, <span class="sidenote">clothes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And a' is young and sweet like thee;</div> +<div class="i0">O wilt thou share its joys wi' me,</div> +<div class="i2">And say thou'lt be my dearie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The primrose bank, the wimpling burn, <span class="sidenote">winding</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The cuckoo on the milk-white thorn,</div> +<div class="i0">The wanton lambs at early morn</div> +<div class="i2">Shall welcome thee, my dearie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And when the welcome simmer-shower</div> +<div class="i0">Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower, <span class="sidenote">every</span> </div> +<div class="i0">We'll to the breathing woodbine bower</div> +<div class="i2">At sultry noon, my dearie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a> +<div class="i0">When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray,</div> +<div class="i0">The weary shearer's hameward way. <span class="sidenote">reaper's</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,</div> +<div class="i2">And talk o' love, my dearie, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And when the howling wintry blast</div> +<div class="i0">Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest;</div> +<div class="i0">Enclaspèd to my faithfu' breast,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MONTGOMERIES_PEGGY" id="MONTGOMERIES_PEGGY"></a>MONTGOMERIE'S PEGGY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Altho' my bed were in yon muir,</div> +<div class="i2">Amang the heather, in my plaidie,</div> +<div class="i0">Yet happy, happy would I be,</div> +<div class="i2">Had I my dear Montgomerie's Peggy.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When o'er the hill beat surly storms,</div> +<div class="i2">And winter nights were dark and rainy,</div> +<div class="i0">I'd seek some dell, and in my arms</div> +<div class="i2">I'd shelter dear Montgomerie's Peggy.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Were I a Baron proud and high,</div> +<div class="i2">And horse and servants waiting ready,</div> +<div class="i0">Then a' 't wad gie o' joy to me, <span class="sidenote">it would give</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The sharin't wi' Montgomerie's Peggy.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_LEA-RIG" id="THE_LEA-RIG"></a>THE LEA-RIG</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When o'er the hill the eastern star</div> +<div class="i2">Tells bughtin-time is near, my jo; <span class="sidenote">folding-</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And owsen frae the furrow'd field <span class="sidenote">oxen</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Return sae dowf and wearie O; <span class="sidenote">dull</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>Down by the burn, where scented birks</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo, <span class="sidenote">sweetheart</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, <span class="sidenote">grassy ridge</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My ain kind dearie O. <span class="sidenote">own</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, <span class="sidenote">darkest</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie O, <span class="sidenote">scared</span> </div> +<div class="i0">If thro' that glen I gaed to thee, <span class="sidenote">went</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My ain kind dearie O.</div> +<div class="i0">Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild,</div> +<div class="i2">And I were ne'er sae wearie O,</div> +<div class="i0">I'd meet thee on the lea-rig,</div> +<div class="i2">My ain kind dearie O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The hunter lo'es the morning sun, <span class="sidenote">loves</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To rouse the mountain deer, my jo;</div> +<div class="i0">At noon the fisher takes the glen,</div> +<div class="i2">Along the burn to steer, my jo;</div> +<div class="i0">Gie me the hour o' gloamin grey <span class="sidenote">twilight</span> </div> +<div class="i2">It maks my heart sae cheery O,</div> +<div class="i0">To meet thee on the lea-rig,</div> +<div class="i2">My ain kind dearie O.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="AULD_ROB_MORRIS" id="AULD_ROB_MORRIS"></a>AULD ROB MORRIS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, <span class="sidenote">dwells</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He's the king o' gude fellows and wale of auld men; <span class="sidenote">pick</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine, <span class="sidenote">gold, oxen</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And ae bonnie lassie, his dautie and mine. <span class="sidenote">one, darling</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May;</div> +<div class="i0">She's sweet as the ev'ning amang the new hay;</div> +<div class="i0">As blythe and as artless as the lambs on the lea,</div> +<div class="i0">And dear to my heart as the light to my e'e.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a> +<div class="i0">But oh! she's an heiress, auld Robin's a laird,</div> +<div class="i0">And my daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard; <span class="sidenote">garden</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed, <span class="sidenote">must not</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The wounds I must hide that will soon be my dead. <span class="sidenote">death</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane;</div> +<div class="i0">The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane;</div> +<div class="i0">I wander my lane, like a night-troubled ghaist, <span class="sidenote">alone, ghost</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And I sigh as my heart it wad burst in my breast.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O had she but been of a lower degree,</div> +<div class="i0">I then might hae hoped she wad smiled upon me;</div> +<div class="i0">O how past descriving had then been my bliss, <span class="sidenote">describing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As now my distraction no words can express!</div> +</div></div> + +<p><i><a href="#O_WERT_THOU_IN_THE_CAULD_BLAST">O, Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast</a></i>, besides being one of the most +exquisite of his songs, has a pathetic interest from the circumstances +under which it was composed. During the last few months of his life, a +young girl called Jessie Lewars, sister of one of his colleagues in +the excise, came much to his house and was of great service to Mrs. +Burns and him in his last illness. One day he offered to write new +verses to any tune she might play him. She sat down and played over +several times the melody of an old song, beginning,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The robin came to the wren's nest,</div> +<div class="i2">And keekit in, and keekit in.</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>The following lines were the characteristic result:</p> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="O_WERT_THOU_IN_THE_CAULD_BLAST" id="O_WERT_THOU_IN_THE_CAULD_BLAST"></a>O, WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, wert thou in the cauld blast, <span class="sidenote">cold</span> </div> +<div class="i2">On yonder lea, on yonder lea,</div> +<div class="i0">My plaidie to the angry airt, <span class="sidenote">direction</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee,</div> +<div class="i0">Or did misfortune's bitter storms</div> +<div class="i2">Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,</div> +<div class="i0">Thy bield should be my bosom, <span class="sidenote">shelter</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To share it a', to share it a'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Or were I in the wildest waste,</div> +<div class="i2">Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,</div> +<div class="i0">The desert were a paradise,</div> +<div class="i2">If thou wert there, if thou wert there.</div> +<div class="i0">Or were I monarch o' the globe,</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,</div> +<div class="i0">The brightest jewel in my crown</div> +<div class="i2">Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>This group may well close with his great hymn of general allegiance to +the sex.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="GREEN_GROW_THE_RASHES" id="GREEN_GROW_THE_RASHES"></a>GREEN GROW THE RASHES</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Green grow the rashes, O,</div> +<div class="i2">Green grow the rashes, O;</div> +<div class="i0">The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,</div> +<div class="i2">Are spent amang the lasses, O!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a> +<div class="i0">There's nought but care on ev'ry han',</div> +<div class="i2">In ev'ry hour that passes, O;</div> +<div class="i0">What signifies the life o' man,</div> +<div class="i2">An' 'twere na for the lasses, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The warly race may riches chase, <span class="sidenote">worldly</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' riches still may fly them, O;</div> +<div class="i0">An' tho' at last they catch them fast,</div> +<div class="i2">Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But gie me a canny hour at e'en, <span class="sidenote">quiet</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My arms about my dearie, O;</div> +<div class="i0">An' warly cares, an' warly men,</div> +<div class="i2">May a' gae tapsalteerie, O! <span class="sidenote">upside-down</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">For you sae douce, ye sneer at this, <span class="sidenote">sedate</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Ye're nought but senseless asses, O:</div> +<div class="i0">The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,</div> +<div class="i2">He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears</div> +<div class="i2">Her noblest work she classes, O;</div> +<div class="i0">Her prentice han' she tried on man,</div> +<div class="i2">An' then she made the lasses, O.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Equally personal, but not connected with love, are a few +autobiographical poems of which the following are typical. The third +of these, though prosaic enough, is interesting as perhaps Burns's +most elaborate summing up of the philosophy of his own career.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a><a name="THERE_WAS_A_LAD" id="THERE_WAS_A_LAD"></a>THERE WAS A LAD</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There was a lad was born in Kyle,</div> +<div class="i0">But whatna day o' whatna style <span class="sidenote">what</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I doubt it's hardly worth the while</div> +<div class="i2">To be sae nice wi' Robin.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">Robin was a rovin' boy, <span class="sidenote">roystering</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Rantin' rovin', rantin' rovin';</div> +<div class="i4">Robin was a rovin' boy,</div> +<div class="i6">Rantin' rovin' Robin.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Our monarch's hindmost year but ane <span class="sidenote">one</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Was five-and-twenty days begun,</div> +<div class="i0">'Twas then a blast o' Janwar win'</div> +<div class="i2">Blew hansel in on Robin. <span class="sidenote">his first gift</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The gossip keekit in his loof, <span class="sidenote">peeped, palm</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Quo' scho, ‘Wha lives will see the proof, <span class="sidenote">Quoth she</span> </div> +<div class="i0">This waly boy will be nae coof, <span class="sidenote">choice, dolt</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I think we'll ca' him Robin. <span class="sidenote">call</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘He'll hae misfortunes great an' sma',</div> +<div class="i0">But aye a heart aboon them a'; <span class="sidenote">above</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He'll be a credit till us a', <span class="sidenote">to</span> </div> +<div class="i2">We'll a' be proud o' Robin.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘But sure as three times three mak nine,</div> +<div class="i0">I see by ilka score and line, <span class="sidenote">each</span> </div> +<div class="i0">This chap will dearly like our kin', <span class="sidenote">sex</span> </div> +<div class="i2">So leeze me on thee, Robin. <span class="sidenote">blessing on</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a> +<div class="i0">‘Guid faith,’ quo' scho, ‘I doubt you, stir, <span class="sidenote">sir</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye gar the lasses lie aspar, <span class="sidenote">make, aspread</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But twenty fauts ye may hae waur, <span class="sidenote">faults, worse</span> </div> +<div class="i2">So blessings on thee, Robin!’</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="CONTENTED_WI_LITTLE" id="CONTENTED_WI_LITTLE"></a>CONTENTED WI' LITTLE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair, <span class="sidenote">cheerful</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and Care, <span class="sidenote">meet</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I gie them a skelp, as they're creepin' alang, <span class="sidenote">spank</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang. <span class="sidenote">bowl of good ale</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought; <span class="sidenote">sometimes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But man is a soger, and life is a faught: <span class="sidenote">soldier, fight</span> </div> +<div class="i0">My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch, <span class="sidenote">pocket</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch daur touch. <span class="sidenote">dare</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa', <span class="sidenote">twelvemonth, lot</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a'; <span class="sidenote">solders</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When at the blythe end of our journey at last,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past? <span class="sidenote">Who the devil</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way, <span class="sidenote">stumble, stagger</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jad gae:</div> +<div class="i0">Come ease or come travail, come pleasure or pain,</div> +<div class="i0">My warst word is—‘Welcome, and welcome again!’</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MY_FATHER_WAS_A_FARMER" id="MY_FATHER_WAS_A_FARMER"></a>MY FATHER WAS A FARMER</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My Father was a Farmer upon the Carrick border, O,</div> +<div class="i0">And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;</div> +<div class="i0">He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a farthing, O,</div> +<div class="i0">For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a> +<div class="i0">Then out into the world my course I did determine, O;</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, O:</div> +<div class="i0">My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my education, O;</div> +<div class="i0">Resolv'd was I, at least to try, to mend my situation, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In many a way, and vain essay, I courted Fortune's favour, O:</div> +<div class="i0">Some cause unseen still stept between to frustrate each endeavour, O;</div> +<div class="i0">Sometimes by foes I was o'erpower'd, sometimes by friends forsaken, O;</div> +<div class="i0">And when my hope was at the top, I still was worst mistaken, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then sore harass'd, and tir'd at last, with Fortune's vain delusion, O,</div> +<div class="i0">I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams, and came to this conclusion, O—</div> +<div class="i0">The past was bad, and the future hid; its good or ill untrièd, O;</div> +<div class="i0">But the present hour was in my pow'r, and so I would enjoy it, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">No help, nor hope, nor view had I, nor person to befriend me, O;</div> +<div class="i0">So I must toil, and sweat and broil, and labour to sustain me, O;</div> +<div class="i0">To plough and sow, to reap and mow, my father bred me early, O;</div> +<div class="i0">For one, he said, to labour bred, was a match for Fortune fairly, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a> +<div class="i0">Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro' life I'm doom'd to wander, O,</div> +<div class="i0">Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber, O;</div> +<div class="i0">No view nor care, but shun whate'er might breed me pain or sorrow, O,</div> +<div class="i0">I live to-day as well's I may, regardless of to-morrow, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But cheerful still, I am as well as a monarch in a palace, O.</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' Fortune's frown still hunts me down, with all her wonted malice, O;</div> +<div class="i0">I make indeed my daily bread, but ne'er can make it farther, O;</div> +<div class="i0">But, as daily bread is all I need, I do not much regard her, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When sometimes by my labour I earn a little money, O,</div> +<div class="i0">Some unforeseen misfortune comes generally upon me, O—</div> +<div class="i0">Mischance, mistake, or by neglect, or my good-natur'd folly, O;</div> +<div class="i0">But come what will, I've sworn it still, I'll ne'er be melancholy, O.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">All you who follow wealth and power with unremitting ardour, O,</div> +<div class="i0">The more in this you look for bliss, you leave your view the farther, O;</div> +<div class="i0">Had you the wealth Potosi boasts, or nations to adore you, O,</div> +<div class="i0">A cheerful honest-hearted clown I will prefer before you, O.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The stress laid upon that part of Burns's production which has +relation, near or remote,<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a> to his personal experiences with women is, +in the current estimate, somewhat disproportionate. A surprisingly +large number of his most effective songs are purely dramatic, are +placed in the mouth of a man who is clearly not the poet, or, more +frequently, in the mouth of a woman. There is little evidence that +Burns would have been capable of sustained dramatic composition; on +the other hand, he was far from being limited to purely personal lyric +utterance. His versatility in giving expression to the amorous moods +of the other sex is almost as great as in direct confession. A group +of these dramatic lyrics will demonstrate this.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="O_FOR_ANE_AN_TWENTY_TAM" id="O_FOR_ANE_AN_TWENTY_TAM"></a>O FOR ANE AN' TWENTY, TAM!</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An' O for ane an' twenty, Tam!</div> +<div class="i2">An' hey, sweet are an' twenty, Tam!</div> +<div class="i0">I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang, <span class="sidenote">teach</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' I saw ane an' twenty, Tam. <span class="sidenote">If</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">They snool me sair, and haud me down, <span class="sidenote">snub, sorely, hold</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' gar me look like bluntie, Tam! <span class="sidenote">make, a fool</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But three short years will soon wheel roun',</div> +<div class="i2">An' then comes ane an' twenty, Tam.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a> +<div class="i0">A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear, <span class="sidenote">portion, handful of money</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Was left me by my auntie, Tam;</div> +<div class="i0">At kith or kin I need na spier, <span class="sidenote">ask</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' I saw ane and twenty, Tam.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">They'll hae me wed a wealthy coof, <span class="sidenote">have, dolt</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Tho' I mysel' hae plenty, Tam;</div> +<div class="i0">But hear'st thou, laddie? there's my loof, <span class="sidenote">hand</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I'm thine at ane and twenty, Tam!</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="YE_BANKS_AND_BRAES" id="YE_BANKS_AND_BRAES"></a>YE BANKS AND BRAES<br /><small>(Second Version)</small></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,</div> +<div class="i2">How can ye blume sae fair?</div> +<div class="i0">How can ye chant, ye little birds,</div> +<div class="i2">And I sae fu' o' care?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,</div> +<div class="i2">That sings upon the bough;</div> +<div class="i0">Thou minds me o' the happy days, <span class="sidenote">remindest</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When my fause luve was true.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,</div> +<div class="i2">That sings beside thy mate;</div> +<div class="i0">For sae I sat, and sae I sang,</div> +<div class="i2">And wist na o' my fate.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,</div> +<div class="i2">To see the wood-bine twine,</div> +<div class="i0">And ilka bird sang o' its love,</div> +<div class="i2">And sae did I o' mine.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a> +<div class="i0">Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose</div> +<div class="i2">Frae off its thorny tree:</div> +<div class="i0">But my fause luver staw my rose, <span class="sidenote">stole</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And left the thorn wi' me.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><small>(Third Version)</small></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,</div> +<div class="i2">How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?</div> +<div class="i0">How can ye chant, ye little birds,</div> +<div class="i2">And I sae weary fu' o' care?</div> +<div class="i0">Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,</div> +<div class="i2">That wantons thro' the flowering thorn;</div> +<div class="i0">Thou minds me o' departed joys,</div> +<div class="i2">Departed never to return.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,</div> +<div class="i2">To see the rose and woodbine twine;</div> +<div class="i0">And ilka bird sang o' its love,</div> +<div class="i2">And fondly sae did I o' mine.</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,</div> +<div class="i2">Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;</div> +<div class="i0">And my fause lover staw my rose, <span class="sidenote">stole</span> </div> +<div class="i2">But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="SIMMERS_A_PLEASANT_TIME" id="SIMMERS_A_PLEASANT_TIME"></a>SIMMER'S A PLEASANT TIME</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Simmer's a pleasant time,</div> +<div class="i2">Flow'rs of ev'ry colour;</div> +<div class="i0">The water rins o'er the heugh, <span class="sidenote">crag</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And I long for my true lover.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a> +<div class="i4">Ay waukin O, <span class="sidenote">waking</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Waukin still and wearie:</div> +<div class="i4">Sleep I can get nane</div> +<div class="i6">For thinking on my dearie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When I sleep I dream,</div> +<div class="i2">When I wauk I'm eerie; <span class="sidenote">superstitiously afraid</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sleep I can get nane</div> +<div class="i2">For thinking on my dearie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lanely night comes on,</div> +<div class="i2">A' the lave are sleeping; <span class="sidenote">rest</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I think on my bonnie lad</div> +<div class="i2">And I bleer my een with greetin'. <span class="sidenote">eyes, weeping</span> </div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="WHISTLE_AND_ILL_COME_TO_YE_MY_LAD" id="WHISTLE_AND_ILL_COME_TO_YE_MY_LAD"></a>WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YE, MY LAD</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">O whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad;</div> +<div class="i4">O whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad:</div> +<div class="i4">Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad,</div> +<div class="i4">O whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But warily tent, when ye come to court me, <span class="sidenote">take care</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee; <span class="sidenote">gate, ajar</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Syne up the back-stile, and let naebody see, <span class="sidenote">then</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And come as ye were na comin' to me.</div> +<div class="i0">And come as ye were na comin' to me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,</div> +<div class="i0">Gang by me as tho' that ye car'd na a flee: <span class="sidenote">go, fly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e, <span class="sidenote">glance</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.</div> +<div class="i0">Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a> +<div class="i0">Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me,</div> +<div class="i0">And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee; <span class="sidenote">slight</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But court na anither, tho' jokin' ye be,</div> +<div class="i0">For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me. <span class="sidenote">beguile</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TAM_GLEN" id="TAM_GLEN"></a>TAM GLEN</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My heart is a breaking, dear tittie, <span class="sidenote">sister</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Some counsel unto me come len',</div> +<div class="i0">To anger them a' is a pity;</div> +<div class="i2">But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fellow, <span class="sidenote">fine</span> </div> +<div class="i2">In poortith I might mak a fen'; <span class="sidenote">poverty, shift</span> </div> +<div class="i0">What care I in riches to wallow,</div> +<div class="i2">If I maunna marry Tam Glen? <span class="sidenote">must not</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There's Lowrie the laird o' Dumeller,</div> +<div class="i2">‘Guid-day to you’—brute! he comes ben:</div> +<div class="i0">He brags and he blaws o' his siller, <span class="sidenote">money</span> </div> +<div class="i2">But when will he dance like Tam Glen?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My minnie does constantly deave me, <span class="sidenote">mother, deafen</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And bids me beware o' young men;</div> +<div class="i0">They flatter, she says, to deceive me;</div> +<div class="i2">But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him, <span class="sidenote">if</span> </div> +<div class="i2">He'll gie me guid hunder marks ten: <span class="sidenote">hundred</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,</div> +<div class="i2">O wha will I get but Tam Glen?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a> +<div class="i0">Yestreen at the Valentine's dealing, <span class="sidenote">Last night</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My heart to my mou gied a sten: <span class="sidenote">mouth gave a leap</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For thrice I drew ane without failing,</div> +<div class="i2">And thrice it was written, ‘Tam Glen.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The last Halloween I was waukin' <span class="sidenote">watching</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My droukit sark-sleeve,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> as ye ken; <span class="sidenote">drenched chemise</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His likeness cam up the house stalkin'—</div> +<div class="i2">And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen! <span class="sidenote">trousers</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Come, counsel, dear tittle, don't tarry;</div> +<div class="i2">I'll gie you my bonnie black hen, <span class="sidenote">give</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Gif ye will advise me to marry <span class="sidenote">If</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen. <span class="sidenote">love</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span> </a> See <a href="#Footnote_17_17">note 17</a> on Halloween, <a href="#Page_218">p. 218</a>.</p></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_RANTIN_DOG_THE_DADDIE_OT" id="THE_RANTIN_DOG_THE_DADDIE_OT"></a>THE RANTIN' DOG THE DADDIE O'T</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O wha my babie-clouts will buy? <span class="sidenote">baby-clothes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha will tent me when I cry? <span class="sidenote">care for</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha will kiss me whare I lie?—</div> +<div class="i2">The rantin' dog the daddie o't. <span class="sidenote">of it</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wha will own he did the faut? <span class="sidenote">fault</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha will buy my groanin' maut? <span class="sidenote">ale for the midwife</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha will tell me how to ca't? <span class="sidenote">name it</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The rantin' dog the daddie o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When I mount the creepie-chair. <span class="sidenote">stool of repentance</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha will sit beside me there?</div> +<div class="i0">Gie me Rob, I seek nae mair,—<span class="sidenote">Give</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The rantin' dog the daddie o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a> +<div class="i0">Wha will crack to me my lane? <span class="sidenote">chat, alone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha will mak me fidgin' fain? <span class="sidenote">tingling with fondness</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha will kiss me o'er again?—</div> +<div class="i2">The rantin' dog the daddie o't.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="LAST_MAY_A_BRAW_WOOER" id="LAST_MAY_A_BRAW_WOOER"></a>LAST MAY A BRAW WOOER</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen, <span class="sidenote">fine</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And sair wi' his love he did deave me: <span class="sidenote">sorely, deafen</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I said there was naething I hated like men—</div> +<div class="i2">The deuce gae wi'm to believe me, believe me, <span class="sidenote">go with him</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The deuce gae wi'm to believe me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He spak o' the darts in my bonnie black een,</div> +<div class="i2">And vow'd for my love he was dying;</div> +<div class="i0">I said he might die when he liked for Jean:</div> +<div class="i2">The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying.</div> +<div class="i2">The Lord forgie me for lying!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A weel-stockèd mailen, himsel' for the laird, <span class="sidenote">farm</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers:</div> +<div class="i0">I never loot on that I kend it, or car'd; <span class="sidenote">admitted</span> </div> +<div class="i2">But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers, <span class="sidenote">worse</span> </div> +<div class="i2">But thought I might hae waur offers.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But what wad ye think? In a fortnight or less,</div> +<div class="i2">The deil tak his taste to gae near her! <span class="sidenote">devil</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He up the lang loan to my black cousin Bess, <span class="sidenote">lane</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could bear her,</div> +<div class="i2">Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a> +<div class="i0">But a' the niest week as I petted wi' care, <span class="sidenote">next, fretted</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I gaed to the tryst o' Dalgarnock; <span class="sidenote">fair</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And wha but my fine fickle lover was there?</div> +<div class="i2">I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock, <span class="sidenote">stared, wizard</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink, <span class="sidenote">shoulder, gave, glance</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Lest neebors might say I was saucy;</div> +<div class="i0">My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,</div> +<div class="i2">And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,</div> +<div class="i2">And vow'd I was his dear lassie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet, <span class="sidenote">asked, kindly</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Gin she had recover'd her hearin', <span class="sidenote">If</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And how her new shoon fit her auld shachl't feet—<span class="sidenote">shoes, ill-shaped</span> </div> +<div class="i2">But, heavens! how he fell a <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original has no comma">swearin',</ins> a swearin'.</div> +<div class="i2">But, heavens! how he fell a swearin'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He begged for gudesake I wad be his wife,</div> +<div class="i2">Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow:</div> +<div class="i0">So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,</div> +<div class="i2">I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I think I maun wed him to-morrow.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="FOR_THE_SAKE_O_SOMEBODY" id="FOR_THE_SAKE_O_SOMEBODY"></a>FOR THE SAKE O' SOMEBODY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My heart is sair, I dare na tell, <span class="sidenote">sore</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My heart is sair for somebody;</div> +<div class="i0">I could wake a winter night,</div> +<div class="i2">For the sake o' somebody!</div> +<div class="i4">Oh-hon! for somebody!</div> +<div class="i4">Oh-hey! for somebody!</div> +<div class="i0">I could range the world around,</div> +<div class="i2">For the sake o' somebody.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a> +<div class="i0">Ye powers that smile on virtuous love,</div> +<div class="i2">O, sweetly smile on somebody!</div> +<div class="i0">Frae ilka danger keep him free, <span class="sidenote">every</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And send me safe my somebody.</div> +<div class="i4">Oh-hon! for somebody!</div> +<div class="i4">Oh-hey! for somebody!</div> +<div class="i0">I wad do—what wad I not?</div> +<div class="i2">For the sake o' somebody!</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="OPEN_THE_DOOR_TO_ME_O" id="OPEN_THE_DOOR_TO_ME_O"></a>OPEN THE DOOR TO ME, O!</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Oh, open the door, some pity to shew,</div> +<div class="i2">Oh, open the door to me, O!</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true,</div> +<div class="i2">Oh, open the door to me, O!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek,</div> +<div class="i2">But caulder thy love for me, O!</div> +<div class="i0">The frost, that freezes the life at my heart,</div> +<div class="i2">Is nought to my pains frae thee, O!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The wan moon is setting behind the white wave,</div> +<div class="i2">And time is setting with me, O!</div> +<div class="i0">False friends, false love, farewell! for mair</div> +<div class="i2">I'll ne'er trouble them nor thee, O!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide;</div> +<div class="i2">She sees his pale corse on the plain, O!</div> +<div class="i0">‘My true love!’ she cried, and sank down by his side,</div> +<div class="i2">Never to rise again, O!</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a><a name="WANDERING_WILLIE" id="WANDERING_WILLIE"></a>WANDERING WILLIE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie, <span class="sidenote">away</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Here awa, there awa, haud awa hame; <span class="sidenote">hold</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Come to my bosom, my ae only dearie, <span class="sidenote">one</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Loud tho' the winter blew cauld at our parting,</div> +<div class="i2">'Twas na the blast brought the tear in my e'e;</div> +<div class="i0">Welcome now, Simmer, and welcome, my Willie,</div> +<div class="i2">The Simmer to Nature, my Willie to me!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave o' your slumbers;</div> +<div class="i2">How your dread howling a lover alarms!</div> +<div class="i0">Wauken, ye breezes, row gently, ye billows, <span class="sidenote">Awake</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms. <span class="sidenote">once more</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But oh, if he's faithless, and minds na his Nannie,</div> +<div class="i2">Flow still between us, thou wide-roaring main;</div> +<div class="i0">May I never see it, may I never trow it,</div> +<div class="i2">But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain! <span class="sidenote">own</span> </div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="HOW_LANG_AND_DREARY" id="HOW_LANG_AND_DREARY"></a>HOW LANG AND DREARY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How lang and dreary is the night.</div> +<div class="i2">When I am frae my dearie!</div> +<div class="i0">I restless lie frae e'en to morn,</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">For O, her lanely nights are lang;</div> +<div class="i6">And O, her dreams are eerie; <span class="sidenote">fearful</span> </div> +<div class="i4">And O, her widow'd heart is sair, <span class="sidenote">sore</span> </div> +<div class="i6">That's absent frae her dearie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a> +<div class="i0">When I think on the lightsome days</div> +<div class="i2">I spent wi' thee, my dearie,</div> +<div class="i0">And now that seas between us roar,</div> +<div class="i2">How can I be but eerie!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;</div> +<div class="i2">The joyless day how drearie!</div> +<div class="i0">It wasna sae ye glinted by, <span class="sidenote">glanced</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When I was wi' my dearie.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_BONNIE_LAD_THATS_FAR_AWA" id="THE_BONNIE_LAD_THATS_FAR_AWA"></a>THE BONNIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWA</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O how can I be blithe and glad,</div> +<div class="i2">Or how can I gang brisk and braw, <span class="sidenote">go, fine</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best</div> +<div class="i2">Is o'er the hills and far awa?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's no the frosty winter wind,</div> +<div class="i2">It's no the driving drift and snaw;</div> +<div class="i0">But aye the tear comes in my e'e,</div> +<div class="i2">To think on him that's far awa.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My father pat me frae his door, <span class="sidenote">put</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My friends they hae disown'd me a':</div> +<div class="i0">But I hae ane will tak my part, <span class="sidenote">have one</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The bonnie lad that's far awa.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A pair o' gloves he bought to me,</div> +<div class="i2">And silken snoods he gae me twa; <span class="sidenote">fillets, gave</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And I will wear them for his sake,</div> +<div class="i2">The bonnie lad that's far awa.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a> +<div class="i0">O weary winter soon will pass,</div> +<div class="i2">And spring will cleed the birken shaw: <span class="sidenote">clothe, birch woods</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And my young babie will be born,</div> +<div class="i2">And he'll be hame that's far awa.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="BRAW_BRAW_LADS" id="BRAW_BRAW_LADS"></a>BRAW BRAW LADS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Braw braw lads on Yarrow braes, <span class="sidenote">hills</span> </div> +<div class="i2">That wander thro' the blooming heather;</div> +<div class="i0">But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws <span class="sidenote">woods</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Can match the lads o' Gala Water.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But there is ane, a secret ane,</div> +<div class="i2">Aboon them a' I lo'e him better; <span class="sidenote">love</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,</div> +<div class="i2">The bonnie lad o' Gala Water.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Altho' his daddie was nae laird, <span class="sidenote">landlord</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And tho' I hae nae meikle tocher, <span class="sidenote">much dowry</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Yet rich in kindest, truest love,</div> +<div class="i2">We'll tent our flocks by Gala Water. <span class="sidenote">watch</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth,</div> +<div class="i2">That coft contentment, peace, and pleasure; <span class="sidenote">bought</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The bands and bliss o' mutual love,</div> +<div class="i2">O that's the chiefest warld's treasure!</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MY_HEARTS_IN_THE_HIGHLANDS" id="MY_HEARTS_IN_THE_HIGHLANDS"></a>MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;</div> +<div class="i0">My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;</div> +<div class="i0">A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,</div> +<div class="i0">My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a> +<div class="i0">Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,</div> +<div class="i0">The birth-place of valour, the country of worth;</div> +<div class="i0">Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,</div> +<div class="i0">The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Farewell to the mountains, high cover'd with snow;</div> +<div class="i0">Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;</div> +<div class="i0">Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;</div> +<div class="i0">Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The foregoing are all placed in the mouths of girls, and it is +difficult to deny that they ring as true as the songs that are known +to have sprung from the poet's direct experience. Scarcely less +notable than their sincerity is their variety. Pathos of desertion, +gay defiance of opposition, yearning in absence, confession of +coquetry, joyous confession of affection returned—these are only a +few of the phases of woman's love rendered here with a felicity that +leaves nothing to be desired. What woman has so interpreted the +feelings of her sex?</p> + +<p>The next two express a girl's repugnance at the thought of marriage +with an old man; and the two following form a pair treating the same +theme, one from the girl's point of view, the other from the lover's. +The later verses of <i><a href="#MY_LOVE_SHES_BUT_A_LASSIE_YET">My Love She's but a Lassie Yet</a></i>, however, though +<a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a>full of vivacity, have so little to do with the first or with one +another that the song seems to be a collection of scraps held together +by a common melody.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="WHAT_CAN_A_YOUNG_LASSIE" id="WHAT_CAN_A_YOUNG_LASSIE"></a>WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,</div> +<div class="i2">What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man?</div> +<div class="i0">Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie <span class="sidenote">mother</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'! <span class="sidenote">money</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He's always compleenin' frae mornin' to e'enin',</div> +<div class="i2">He boasts and he hirples the weary day lang: <span class="sidenote">coughs, limps</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He's doylt and he's dozin, his bluid it is frozen, <span class="sidenote">stupid, benumbed</span> </div> +<div class="i2">O, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,</div> +<div class="i2">I never can please him do a' that I can;</div> +<div class="i0">He's peevish, and jealous of a' the young fellows:</div> +<div class="i2">O, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man! <span class="sidenote">woe</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,</div> +<div class="i2">I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan:</div> +<div class="i0">I'll cross him and rack him, until I heart-break him,</div> +<div class="i2">And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TO_DAUNTON_ME" id="TO_DAUNTON_ME"></a>TO DAUNTON ME</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The blude-red rose at Yule may blaw,</div> +<div class="i0">The simmer lilies bloom in snaw,</div> +<div class="i0">The frost may freeze the deepest sea;</div> +<div class="i0">But an auld man shall never daunton me. <span class="sidenote">tame</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a> +<div class="i0">To daunton me, and me sae young,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue, <span class="sidenote">false</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That is the thing you ne'er shall see;</div> +<div class="i0">For an auld man shall never daunton me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">For a' his meal and a' his maut, <span class="sidenote">malt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For a' his fresh beef and his saut, <span class="sidenote">salt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For a' his gold and white monie,</div> +<div class="i0">An auld man shall never daunton me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">His gear may buy him kye and yowes, <span class="sidenote">wealth, cows, ewes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His gear may buy him glens and knowes; <span class="sidenote">knolls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But me he shall not buy nor fee, <span class="sidenote">hire</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For an auld man shall never daunton me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He hirples twa fauld as he dow, <span class="sidenote">limps double, can</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' his teethless gab and his auld beld pow, <span class="sidenote">mouth, bald head</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And the rain rains down frae his red bleer'd e'e—</div> +<div class="i0">That auld man shall never daunton me.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="IM_OWRE_YOUNG_TO_MARRY_YET" id="IM_OWRE_YOUNG_TO_MARRY_YET"></a>I'M OWRE YOUNG TO MARRY YET</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I am my mammie's ae bairn, <span class="sidenote">only child</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' unco folk I weary, Sir; <span class="sidenote">strange</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And lying in a man's bed,</div> +<div class="i2">I'm fley'd wad mak me eerie, Sir. <span class="sidenote">frightened, scared</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">I'm owre young, I'm owre young, <span class="sidenote">too</span> </div> +<div class="i6">I'm owre young to marry yet;</div> +<div class="i4">I'm owre young, 'twad be a sin</div> +<div class="i6">To tak me frae my mammie yet.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a> +<div class="i0">[My mammie coft me a new gown, <span class="sidenote">bought</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The kirk maun hae the gracing o't; <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Were I to lie wi' you, kind Sir,</div> +<div class="i2">I'm fear'd ye'd spoil the lacing o't.]</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Hallowmas is come and gane,</div> +<div class="i2">The nights are lang in winter, Sir;</div> +<div class="i0">And you an' I in ae bed,</div> +<div class="i2">In troth I dare na venture, Sir.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Fu' loud and shrill the frosty wind</div> +<div class="i2">Blaws thro' the leafless timmer, Sir; <span class="sidenote">timber</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But if ye come this gate again, <span class="sidenote">way</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I'll aulder be gin simmer, Sir. <span class="sidenote">older, by</span> </div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MY_LOVE_SHES_BUT_A_LASSIE_YET" id="MY_LOVE_SHES_BUT_A_LASSIE_YET"></a>MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">My love she's but a lassie yet;</div> +<div class="i6">My love she's but a lassie yet;</div> +<div class="i4">We'll let her stand a year or twa,</div> +<div class="i6">She'll no be half sae saucy yet.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I rue the day I sought her, O,</div> +<div class="i2">I rue the day I sought her, O;</div> +<div class="i0">Wha gets her needs na say he's woo'd,</div> +<div class="i2">But he may say he's bought her, O!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;</div> +<div class="i2">Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;</div> +<div class="i0">Gae seek for pleasure where ye will, <span class="sidenote">Go</span> </div> +<div class="i2">But here I never miss'd it yet.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a> +<div class="i0">[We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;</div> +<div class="i2">We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;</div> +<div class="i0">The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife,</div> +<div class="i2">An' could na preach for thinkin' o't.]</div> +</div></div> + +<p><i><a href="#BESSY_AND_HER_SPINNIN-WHEEL">Bessy and Her Spinnin'-Wheel</a></i> stands by itself as the rendering of +the mood of contented solitude, and is further remarkable for its +charming verses of natural description. <i><a href="#JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO">John Anderson My Jo</a></i> is the +classical expression of love in age, inimitable in its simplicity and +tenderness. The two following poems supply a humorous contrast.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="BESSY_AND_HER_SPINNIN-WHEEL" id="BESSY_AND_HER_SPINNIN-WHEEL"></a>BESSY AND HER SPINNIN'-WHEEL</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O leeze me on my spinnin'-wheel, <span class="sidenote">Blessings on</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O leeze me on my rock and reel; <span class="sidenote">distaff</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Frae tap to tae that deeds me bien, <span class="sidenote">top to toe, clothes, comfortably</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And haps me fiel and warm at e'en! <span class="sidenote">wraps, well</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'll set me down and sing and spin,</div> +<div class="i0">While laigh descends the simmer sun, <span class="sidenote">low</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Blest wi' content, and milk and meal—</div> +<div class="i0">O leeze me on my spinnin'-wheel.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">On ilka hand the burnies trot, <span class="sidenote">every, brooklets</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And meet below my theekit cot; <span class="sidenote">thatched</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The scented birk and hawthorn white <span class="sidenote">birch</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Across the pool their arms unite,</div> +<div class="i0">Alike to screen the birdie's nest,</div> +<div class="i0">And little fishes' caller rest: <span class="sidenote">cool</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The sun blinks kindly in the biel', <span class="sidenote">shelter</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Where blythe I turn my spinnin'-wheel.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a> +<div class="i0">On lofty aiks the cushats wail, <span class="sidenote">oaks, pigeons</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And Echo cons the doolfu' tale; <span class="sidenote">repeats, doleful</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The lintwhites in the hazel braes, <span class="sidenote">linnets</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Delighted, rival ither's lays:</div> +<div class="i0">The craik amang the claver hay, <span class="sidenote">corn-crake, clover</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The paitrick whirrin' o'er the ley. <span class="sidenote">partridge, meadow</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The swallow jinkin' round my shiel, <span class="sidenote">dodging, cot</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Amuse me at my spinnin'-wheel.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,</div> +<div class="i0">Aboon distress, below envy, <span class="sidenote">Above</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O wha wad leave this humble state,</div> +<div class="i0">For a' the pride of a' the great?</div> +<div class="i0">Amid their flaring, idle toys,</div> +<div class="i0">Amid their cumbrous, dinsome joys, <span class="sidenote">noisy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Can they the peace and pleasure feel</div> +<div class="i0">Of Bessy at her spinnin'-wheel?</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO" id="JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO"></a>JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">John Andersen my jo, John, <span class="sidenote">sweetheart</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When we were first acquent,</div> +<div class="i0">Your locks were like the raven,</div> +<div class="i2">Your bonnie brow was brent; <span class="sidenote">straight</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But now your brow is beld, John, <span class="sidenote">bald</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Your locks are like the snaw;</div> +<div class="i0">But blessings on your frosty pow, <span class="sidenote">head</span> </div> +<div class="i2">John Anderson, my jo.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">John Anderson my jo, John,</div> +<div class="i2">We clamb the hill thegither;</div> +<div class="i0">And mony a canty day, John, <span class="sidenote">jolly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">We've had wi' ane anither:</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a>Now we maun totter down, John, <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And hand in hand we'll go,</div> +<div class="i0">And sleep thegither at the foot, <span class="sidenote">together</span> </div> +<div class="i2">John Anderson, my jo.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_WEARY_PUND_O_TOW" id="THE_WEARY_PUND_O_TOW"></a>THE WEARY PUND O' TOW</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">The weary pund, the weary pund, <span class="sidenote">pound</span> </div> +<div class="i6">The weary pund o' tow; <span class="sidenote">yarn</span> </div> +<div class="i4">I think my wife will end her life</div> +<div class="i6">Before she spin her tow.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I bought my wife a stane o' lint <span class="sidenote">stone, flax</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As gude as e'er did grow; <span class="sidenote">good</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And a' that she has made o' that,</div> +<div class="i2">Is ae poor pund o' tow. <span class="sidenote">one</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There sat a bottle in a bole, <span class="sidenote">niche</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Beyond the ingle lowe, <span class="sidenote">chimney flame</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And aye she took the tither souk <span class="sidenote">other suck</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To drouk the stowrie tow. <span class="sidenote">drench, dusty</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Quoth I, ‘For shame, ye dirty dame,</div> +<div class="i2">Gae spin your tap o' tow!’ <span class="sidenote">bunch</span> </div> +<div class="i0">She took the rock, and wi' a knock <span class="sidenote">distaff</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She brak it o'er my pow. <span class="sidenote">pate</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">At last her feet—I sang to see't—</div> +<div class="i2">Gaed foremost o'er the knowe; <span class="sidenote">went, hill</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And or I wad anither jad, <span class="sidenote">ere, wed</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I'll wallop in a tow. <span class="sidenote">kick, rope</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a><a name="O_MERRY_HAE_I_BEEN" id="O_MERRY_HAE_I_BEEN"></a>O MERRY HAE I BEEN</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, merry hae I been teethin' a heckle, <span class="sidenote">huckling-comb</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' merry hae I been shapin' a spoon;</div> +<div class="i0">O, merry hae I been cloutin' a kettle, <span class="sidenote">patching</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' kissin' my Katie when a' was done,</div> +<div class="i0">O, a' the lang day I ca' at my hammer, <span class="sidenote">knock with</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' a' the lang day I whistle and sing,</div> +<div class="i0">O, a' the lang night I cuddle my kimmer, <span class="sidenote">mistress</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' a' the lang night am as happy's a king.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Bitter in dool I lickit my winnins <span class="sidenote">sorrow, earnings</span> </div> +<div class="i2">O' marrying Bess, to gie her a slave:</div> +<div class="i0">Bless'd be the hour she cool'd in her linens, <span class="sidenote">shroud</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And blythe be the bird that sings on her grave.</div> +<div class="i0">Come to my arms, my Katie, my Katie,</div> +<div class="i2">An' come to my arms, an' kiss me again!</div> +<div class="i0">Drucken or sober, here's to thee, Katie!</div> +<div class="i2">And bless'd be the day I did it again.</div> +</div></div> + +<p><i><a href="#HAD_I_THE_WYTE">Had I the Wyte</a></i> is, we may hope, also purely imaginative drama; it is +certainly vividly imagined and carried through with a delightful +mixture of sympathy and humorous detachment.</p> + + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="HAD_I_THE_WYTE" id="HAD_I_THE_WYTE"></a>HAD I THE WYTE?</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Had I the wyte, had I the wyte, <span class="sidenote">blame</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Had I the wyte? she bade me!</div> +<div class="i0">She watch'd me by the hie-gate side, <span class="sidenote">highroad</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And up the loan she shaw'd me; <span class="sidenote">lane</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a>And when I wadna venture in,</div> +<div class="i2">A coward loon she ca'd me: <span class="sidenote">rascal</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Had kirk and state been in the gate, <span class="sidenote">way (opposing)</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I lighted when she bade me.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Sae craftilie she took me ben, <span class="sidenote">in</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And bade me make nae clatter;</div> +<div class="i0">‘For our ramgunshoch glum gudeman <span class="sidenote">surly</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Is o'er ayont the water;’ <span class="sidenote">beyond</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whae'er shall say I wanted grace,</div> +<div class="i2">When I did kiss and daut her, <span class="sidenote">pet</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Let him be planted in my place,</div> +<div class="i2">Syne say I was the fautor. <span class="sidenote">Then, transgressor</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Could I for shame, could I for shame,</div> +<div class="i2">Could I for shame refused her?</div> +<div class="i0">And wadna manhood been to blame,</div> +<div class="i2">Had I unkindly used her?</div> +<div class="i0">He clawed her wi' the ripplin-kame, <span class="sidenote">wool-comb</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And blae and bluidy bruised her; <span class="sidenote">blue</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When sic a husband was frae hame,</div> +<div class="i2">What wife but had excused her?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I dighted ay her een sae blue, <span class="sidenote">wiped, eyes</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And bann'd the cruel randy; <span class="sidenote">cursed, scoundrel</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And weel I wat her willing mou' <span class="sidenote">wot, mouth</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Was e'en like sugar-candy.</div> +<div class="i0">At gloamin-shot it was, I trow, <span class="sidenote">sunset</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I lighted, on the Monday;</div> +<div class="i0">But I cam through the Tysday's dew, <span class="sidenote">Tuesday's</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To wanton Willie's brandy.</div> +</div></div> + +<p><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a><i><a href="#MACPHERSONS_FAREWELL">Macpherson's Farewell</a></i>, made famous by Carlyle's appreciation, is a +glorified version of the “Dying Words” of a condemned bandit, such as +were familiar in broadsides after every notorious execution. Part of +the refrain is old. One may imagine <i><a href="#THE_HIGHLAND_BALOU">The Highland Balou</a></i> the lullaby +of Macpherson's child.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="MACPHERSONS_FAREWELL" id="MACPHERSONS_FAREWELL"></a>MACPHERSON'S FAREWELL</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,</div> +<div class="i2">The wretch's destinie!</div> +<div class="i0">Macpherson's time will not be long</div> +<div class="i2">On yonder gallows tree.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, <span class="sidenote">jovially</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Sae dauntingly gaed he;</div> +<div class="i4">He played a spring and danced it round, <span class="sidenote">lively tune</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Below the gallows tree.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Oh, what is death but parting breath?</div> +<div class="i2">On mony a bloody plain</div> +<div class="i0">I've dared his face, and in his place</div> +<div class="i2">I scorn him yet again!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Untie these bands from off my hands,</div> +<div class="i2">And bring to me my sword,</div> +<div class="i0">And there's no a man in all Scotland,</div> +<div class="i2">But I'll brave him at a word.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I've lived a life of sturt and strife; <span class="sidenote">trouble</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I die by treacherie:</div> +<div class="i0">It burns my heart I must depart</div> +<div class="i2">And not avengèd be.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a> +<div class="i0">Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright,</div> +<div class="i2">And all beneath the sky!</div> +<div class="i0">May coward shame distain his name,</div> +<div class="i2">The wretch that dares not die!</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_HIGHLAND_BALOU" id="THE_HIGHLAND_BALOU"></a>THE HIGHLAND BALOU</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Hee balou! my sweet wee Donald, <span class="sidenote">Lullaby</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Picture o' the great Clanronald;</div> +<div class="i0">Brawlie kens our wanton chief <span class="sidenote">Finely knows</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha got my young Highland thief.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Leeze me on thy bonnie craigie! <span class="sidenote">Blessings on, throat</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An thou live, thou'll steal a naigie: <span class="sidenote">If, little nag</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Travel the country thro' and thro',</div> +<div class="i0">And bring hame a Carlisle cow.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thro' the Lawlands, o'er the border,</div> +<div class="i0">Weel, my babie, may thou furder: <span class="sidenote">succeed</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Herry the louns o' the laigh countree, <span class="sidenote">Harry, rascals, low</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Syne to the Highlands hame to me. <span class="sidenote">Then</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<p>Distinct from either of the foregoing groups are several songs in +narrative form, told as a rule from the point of view of an onlooker, +but hardly inferior to the others in vitality. In them the personal or +dramatic emotion is replaced by a keen sense of the humor of the +situation.</p> +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a><a name="DUNCAN_GRAY" id="DUNCAN_GRAY"></a>DUNCAN GRAY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Duncan Gray came here to woo,</div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't,</div> +<div class="i0">On blythe Yule night when we were fou, <span class="sidenote">drunk</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +<div class="i0">Maggie coost her head fu' heigh, <span class="sidenote">cast, high</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Look'd asklent and unco skeigh, <span class="sidenote">askance, very skittish</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; <span class="sidenote">Made, aloof</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd; <span class="sidenote">wheedled</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't,</div> +<div class="i0">Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,</div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't,</div> +<div class="i0">Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,</div> +<div class="i0">Grat his een baith bleer't and blin', <span class="sidenote">Wept, eyes both</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Spak o' lowpin o'er a linn; <span class="sidenote">leaping, waterfall</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Time and chance are but a tide,</div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't,</div> +<div class="i0">Slighted love is sair to bide, <span class="sidenote">sore, endure</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +<div class="i0">‘Shall I, like a fool,’ quoth he,</div> +<div class="i0">‘For a naughty hizzie die? <span class="sidenote">hussy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">She may gae to—France for me!’</div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How it comes let doctors tell,</div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't,</div> +<div class="i0">Meg grew sick as he grew haill, <span class="sidenote">whole</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a>Something in her bosom wrings,</div> +<div class="i0">For relief a sigh she brings;</div> +<div class="i0">And O, her een they spak sic things! <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Duncan was a lad o' grace,</div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't,</div> +<div class="i0">Maggie's was a piteous case,</div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +<div class="i0">Duncan could na be her death,</div> +<div class="i0">Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath; <span class="sidenote">smothered</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Now they're crouse and cantie baith! <span class="sidenote">lively, cheerful</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Ha, ha, the wooing o't.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="DUNCAN_DAVISON" id="DUNCAN_DAVISON"></a>DUNCAN DAVISON</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There was a lass, they ca'd her Meg, <span class="sidenote">called</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And she held o'er the moors to spin;</div> +<div class="i0">There was a lad that follow'd her,</div> +<div class="i2">They ca'd him Duncan Davison.</div> +<div class="i0">The moor was driegh, and Meg was skiegh, <span class="sidenote">dull, skittish</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Her favour Duncan could na win;</div> +<div class="i0">For wi' the rock she wad him knock, <span class="sidenote">distaff</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And ay she shook the temper-pin. <span class="sidenote">regulating pin of the spinning-wheel</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">As o'er the moor they lightly foor, <span class="sidenote">went</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A burn was clear, a glen was green,</div> +<div class="i0">Upon the banks they eased their shanks,</div> +<div class="i2">And aye she set the wheel between:</div> +<div class="i0">But Duncan swore a haly aith, <span class="sidenote">holy oath</span> </div> +<div class="i2">That Meg should be a bride the morn;</div> +<div class="i0">Then Meg took up her spinnin' graith, <span class="sidenote">implements</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And flung them a' out o'er the burn. <span class="sidenote">across</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a> +<div class="i0">We will big a wee, wee house, <span class="sidenote">build</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And we will live like King and Queen,</div> +<div class="i0">Sae blythe and merry's we will be</div> +<div class="i2">When ye set by the wheel at e'en, <span class="sidenote">aside</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A man may drink and no be drunk;</div> +<div class="i2">A man may fight and no be slain;</div> +<div class="i0">A man may kiss a bonnie lass,</div> +<div class="i2">And aye be welcome back again.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_DEILS_AWA_WI_TH_EXCISEMAN" id="THE_DEILS_AWA_WI_TH_EXCISEMAN"></a>THE DE'IL'S AWA WI' TH' EXCISEMAN</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The De'il cam fiddling thro' the town.</div> +<div class="i2">And danced awa wi' th' Exciseman;</div> +<div class="i0">And ilka wife cried ‘Auld Mahoun, <span class="sidenote">every, Mahomet (Devil)</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I wish you luck o' your prize, man.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">We'll mak our maut, and we'll brew our drink, <span class="sidenote">malt</span> </div> +<div class="i2">We'll laugh, and sing, and rejoice, man;</div> +<div class="i0">And mony braw thanks to the muckle black De'il <span class="sidenote">big</span> </div> +<div class="i2">That danced awa wi' th' Exciseman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels,</div> +<div class="i2">There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man; <span class="sidenote">dance tunes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But the ae best dance e'er cam to the lan'. <span class="sidenote">one</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Was—<i>The De'il's awa wi' th' Exciseman</i>.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="COMIN_THROUGH_THE_RYE" id="COMIN_THROUGH_THE_RYE"></a>COMIN' THROUGH THE RYE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Comin' thro' the rye, poor body,</div> +<div class="i2">Comin' thro' the rye,</div> +<div class="i0">She draigl't a' her petticoatie, <span class="sidenote">draggled</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Comin' thro' the rye.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a> +<div class="i0">Gin a body meet a body <span class="sidenote">If</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Comin' thro' the rye;</div> +<div class="i0">Gin a body kiss a body,</div> +<div class="i2">Need a body cry?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Gin a body meet a body</div> +<div class="i2">Comin' thro' the glen;</div> +<div class="i0">Gin a body kiss a body,</div> +<div class="i2">Need the warld ken?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body; <span class="sidenote">all wet</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Jenny's seldom dry;</div> +<div class="i0">She draigl't a' her petticoatie,</div> +<div class="i2">Comin' thro' the rye.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_DEUKS_DANG_OER_MY_DADDIE" id="THE_DEUKS_DANG_OER_MY_DADDIE"></a>THE DEUK'S DANG O'ER MY DADDIE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The bairns gat out wi' an unco shout, <span class="sidenote">children, surprising</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The deuk's dang o'er my daddie, O! <span class="sidenote">duck has knocked</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The fient ma care, quo' the feirie auld wife, <span class="sidenote">devil may, lusty</span> </div> +<div class="i2">He was but a paidlin body, O! <span class="sidenote">tottering creature</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He paidles out, and he paidles in,</div> +<div class="i2">An' he paidles late and early, O;</div> +<div class="i0">This seven lang years I hae lien by his side,</div> +<div class="i2">An' he is but a fusionless carlie, O. <span class="sidenote">pithless old fellow</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, haud your tongue, my feirie auld wife, <span class="sidenote">hold</span> </div> +<div class="i2">O, haud your tongue now, Nansie, O:</div> +<div class="i0">I've seen the day, and sae hae ye,</div> +<div class="i2">Ye wad na been sae donsie, O; <span class="sidenote">would not have, testy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I've seen the day ye butter'd my brose, <span class="sidenote">oatmeal and hot water</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And cuddl'd me late and earlie, O;</div> +<div class="i0">But downa-do's come o'er me now, <span class="sidenote">cannot-do is</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And, oh, I find it sairly, O! <span class="sidenote">feel it sorely</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a> +<a name="WHA_IS_THAT_AT_MY_BOWER_DOOR" id="WHA_IS_THAT_AT_MY_BOWER_DOOR"></a>WHA IS THAT AT MY BOWER DOOR?</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Wha is that at my bower door?’</div> +<div class="i2">‘O wha is it but Findlay?’</div> +<div class="i0">‘Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here!’ <span class="sidenote">go, way, shall not</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘Indeed maun I,’ quo' Findlay. <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i0">‘What mak ye, sae like a thief?’ <span class="sidenote">do</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘O, come and see,’ quo' Findlay;</div> +<div class="i0">‘Before the morn ye'll work mischief;’</div> +<div class="i2">‘Indeed will I,’ quo' Findlay.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Gif I rise and let you in—’ <span class="sidenote">If</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘Let me in,’ quo' Findlay—</div> +<div class="i0">‘Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;’ <span class="sidenote">awake</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘Indeed will I,’ quo' Findlay.</div> +<div class="i0">‘In my bower if ye should stay—’</div> +<div class="i2">‘Let me stay,’ quo' Findlay—,</div> +<div class="i0">‘I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;’</div> +<div class="i2">‘Indeed will I,’ quo' Findlay.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Here this night if ye remain—’</div> +<div class="i2">‘I'll remain,’ quo' Findlay—,</div> +<div class="i0">‘I dread ye'll learn the gate again;’ <span class="sidenote">way</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘Indeed will I,’ quo' Findlay,</div> +<div class="i0">‘What may pass within this bower—’</div> +<div class="i2">‘Let it pass,’ quo' Findlay—</div> +<div class="i0">‘Ye maun conceal till your last hour;’ <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i2">‘Indeed will I,’ quo' Findlay.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="WILLIES_WIFE" id="WILLIES_WIFE"></a>WILLIE'S WIFE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,</div> +<div class="i2">The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie;</div> +<div class="i0">Willie was a wabster guid, <span class="sidenote">weaver good</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Cou'd stown a clue wi' ony body. <span class="sidenote">have stolen</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a>He had a wife was dour and din, <span class="sidenote">stubborn, sallow</span> </div> +<div class="i2">O, Tinkler Madgie was her mither; <span class="sidenote">Tinker</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sic a wife as Willie had, <span class="sidenote">Such</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I wad na gie a button for her!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She has an e'e, she has but ane, <span class="sidenote">eye</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The cat has twa the very colour;</div> +<div class="i0">Five rusty teeth, forbye a stump, <span class="sidenote">besides</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A clapper tongue wad deave a miller; <span class="sidenote">deafen</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A whiskin beard about her mou, <span class="sidenote">mouth</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Her nose and chin they threaten ither;</div> +<div class="i0">Sic a wife as Willie had,</div> +<div class="i2">I wad na gie a button for her!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She's bow-hough'd, she's hem-shinn'd, <span class="sidenote">bandy, crooked</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter; <span class="sidenote">One, hand-breadth</span> </div> +<div class="i0">She's twisted right, she's twisted left,</div> +<div class="i2">To balance fair in ilka quarter: <span class="sidenote">either</span> </div> +<div class="i0">She has a hump upon her breast,</div> +<div class="i2">The twin o' that upon her shouther;</div> +<div class="i0">Sic a wife as Willie had,</div> +<div class="i2">I wad na gie a button for her!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Auld baudrons by the ingle sits, <span class="sidenote">Old pussy, fireside</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' wi' her loof her face a-washin; <span class="sidenote">palm</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But Willie's wife is nae sae trig, <span class="sidenote">trim</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion; <span class="sidenote">wipes, snout, stocking-leg</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Her walie nieves like midden-creels, <span class="sidenote">ample fists, dung baskets</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Her face wad fyle the Logan-water; <span class="sidenote">dirty</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sic a wife as Willie had,</div> +<div class="i2">I wad na gie a button for her!</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a>The songs written by Burns in connection with politics are often +lively and pointed, but they have little imagination, and the passing +of the issues they dealt with has deprived them of general interest. +Two classes of exceptions may be noted. He was, as we have seen, +sympathetically interested in the French Revolution, and the +fundamental doctrine of Liberty, Fraternity, Equality was cast by him +into a poem which, he himself said, is “not really poetry,” but is +admirably vigorous rhetoric in verse, and has become the classic +utterance of the democratic faith.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="A_MANS_A_MAN_FOR_A_THAT" id="A_MANS_A_MAN_FOR_A_THAT"></a>A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Is there for honest poverty</div> +<div class="i2">That hings his head, an' a' that? <span class="sidenote">hangs</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The coward slave, we pass him by,</div> +<div class="i2">We dare be poor for a' that!</div> +<div class="i4">For a' that, an' a' that,</div> +<div class="i6">Our toils obscure, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i4">The rank is but the guinea's stamp;</div> +<div class="i6">The man's the gowd for a' that. <span class="sidenote">gold</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">What tho' on hamely fare we dine,</div> +<div class="i2">Wear hodden-gray, and a' that; <span class="sidenote">coarse gray</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, <span class="sidenote">Give</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A man's a man for a' that.</div> +<div class="i4"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a>For a' that, an' a' that,</div> +<div class="i6">Their tinsel show, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i4">The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,</div> +<div class="i6">Is king o' men for a' that.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, <span class="sidenote">fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wha struts, and stares, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' hundreds worship at his word,</div> +<div class="i2">He's but a coof for a' that: <span class="sidenote">dolt</span> </div> +<div class="i4">For a' that, an' a' that,</div> +<div class="i6">His riband, star, and a' that,</div> +<div class="i4">The man of independent mind,</div> +<div class="i6">He looks and laughs at a' that.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A prince can mak a belted knight,</div> +<div class="i2">A marquis, duke, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">But an honest man's aboon his might, <span class="sidenote">above</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! <span class="sidenote">must not claim</span> </div> +<div class="i4">For a' that, an' a' that,</div> +<div class="i6">Their dignities, an' a' that,</div> +<div class="i4">The pith o' sense an' pride o' worth</div> +<div class="i6">Are higher rank than a' that.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But let us pray that come it may,</div> +<div class="i2">As come it will for a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,</div> +<div class="i2">May bear the gree, an' a' that. <span class="sidenote">first place</span> </div> +<div class="i4">For a' that, an' a' that,</div> +<div class="i6">It's coming yet for a' that,</div> +<div class="i4">That man to man the warld o'er</div> +<div class="i6">Shall brithers be for a' that.</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a> +Another, equally famous, sprang from his patriotic enthusiasm for the +heroes of the Scottish war of independence, but was written with more +than a slight consciousness of what seemed to him the similarity of +the spirit then abroad in France.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="SCOTS_WHA_HAE" id="SCOTS_WHA_HAE"></a>SCOTS, WHA HAE<br /><br /><small>ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY, BEFORE THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN</small></h3> + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,</div> +<div class="i0">Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,</div> +<div class="i0">Welcome to your gory bed</div> +<div class="i4">Or to victorie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now's the day, and now's the hour;</div> +<div class="i0">See the front o' battle lour!</div> +<div class="i0">See approach proud Edward's power—</div> +<div class="i4">Chains and slaverie!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wha will be a traitor knave?</div> +<div class="i0">Wha can fill a coward's grave?</div> +<div class="i0">Wha sae base as be a slave?</div> +<div class="i4">Let him turn and flee!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wha for Scotland's King and law</div> +<div class="i0">Freedom's sword will strongly draw,</div> +<div class="i0">Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?</div> +<div class="i4">Let him follow me!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a> +<div class="i0">By Oppression's woes and pains!</div> +<div class="i0">By your sons in servile chains!</div> +<div class="i0">We will drain our dearest veins,</div> +<div class="i4">But they shall be free!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lay the proud usurpers low!</div> +<div class="i0">Tyrants fall in every foe!</div> +<div class="i0">Liberty's in every blow!</div> +<div class="i4">Let us do or die!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The other class of exceptions is the group of songs on Jacobite +themes. The rebellion led by Prince Charles Edward in 1745 had +produced a considerable quantity of campaign verse, almost all without +poetic value; but after the turmoil had died down and the Stuart cause +was regarded as finally lost, there appeared in Scotland a peculiar +sentimental tenderness for the picturesque and unfortunate family that +had sunk from the splendors of a throne that had been theirs for +centuries into the sordid misery of royal pauperism. Burns, whose +ancestors had been “out” in the '45, shared this sentiment, as Walter +Scott later shared it, both realizing that it had nothing to do with +practical politics. Out of this feeling there grew a considerable body +of poetry, a poetry full of idealism, touched with melancholy, and +atoning for its lack of reality by a richness<a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a> of imaginative emotion. +Burns led the way in this unique movement, and was worthily followed +by such writers as Lady Nairne, James Hogg, and Sir Walter himself. He +followed his usual custom of availing himself of fragments of the +older lyrics, but as usual he polished the pebbles into jewels and set +them in gold. Here are a few specimens of this poetry of a lost cause.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="IT_WAS_A_FOR_OUR_RIGHTFU_KING" id="IT_WAS_A_FOR_OUR_RIGHTFU_KING"></a>IT WAS A' FOR OUR RIGHTFU' KING</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It was a' for our rightfu' King,</div> +<div class="i2">We left fair Scotland's strand;</div> +<div class="i0">It was a' for our rightfu' King,</div> +<div class="i2">We e'er saw Irish land,</div> +<div class="i16">My dear,</div> +<div class="i2">We e'er saw Irish land.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now a' is done that men can do,</div> +<div class="i2">And a' is done in vain;</div> +<div class="i0">My love and native land farewell,</div> +<div class="i2">For I maun cross the main, <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i16">My dear,</div> +<div class="i2">For I maun cross the main.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He turn'd him right and round about</div> +<div class="i2">Upon the Irish shore;</div> +<div class="i0">And gae his bridle-reins a shake, <span class="sidenote">gave</span> </div> +<div class="i2">With adieu for evermore,</div> +<div class="i16">My dear,</div> +<div class="i2">Adieu for evermore.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a> +<div class="i0">The sodger from the wars returns, <span class="sidenote">soldier</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The sailor frae the main;</div> +<div class="i0">But I hae parted frae my love,</div> +<div class="i2">Never to meet again,</div> +<div class="i16">My dear,</div> +<div class="i2">Never to meet again.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When day is gane, and night is come,</div> +<div class="i2">And a' folk bound to sleep,</div> +<div class="i0">I think on him that's far awa',</div> +<div class="i2">The lee-lang night, and weep, <span class="sidenote">live-long</span> </div> +<div class="i16">My dear,</div> +<div class="i2">The lee-lang night, and weep.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="COME_BOAT_ME_OER_TO_CHARLIE" id="COME_BOAT_ME_OER_TO_CHARLIE"></a>COME BOAT ME O'ER TO CHARLIE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Come boat me o'er, come row me o'er,</div> +<div class="i2">Come boat me o'er to Charlie;</div> +<div class="i0">I'll gie John Ross another bawbee, <span class="sidenote">half-penny</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To boat me o'er to Charlie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">We'll o'er the water, we'll o'er the sea,</div> +<div class="i6">We'll o'er the water to Charlie;</div> +<div class="i4">Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go,</div> +<div class="i6">And live or die wi' Charlie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I lo'e weel my Charlie's name, <span class="sidenote">love</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Tho' some there be abhor him:</div> +<div class="i0">But O, to see auld Nick gaun hame, <span class="sidenote">going</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And Charlie's faes before him! <span class="sidenote">foes</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I swear and vow by moon and stars,</div> +<div class="i2">And sun that shines so clearly,</div> +<div class="i0">If I had twenty thousand lives,</div> +<div class="i2">I'd die as aft for Charlie.</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a><a name="THE_HIGHLAND_LADDIE" id="THE_HIGHLAND_LADDIE"></a>THE HIGHLAND LADDIE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The bonniest lad that e'er I saw,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,</div> +<div class="i0">Wore a plaid and was fu' braw, <span class="sidenote">gaily dressed</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie Highland laddie.</div> +<div class="i0">On his head a bonnet blue,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,</div> +<div class="i0">His royal heart was firm and true,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie Highland laddie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Trumpets sound and cannons roar,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie lassie, Lawland lassie,</div> +<div class="i0">And a' the hills wi' echoes roar,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie Lawland lassie.</div> +<div class="i0">Glory, Honour, now invite,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie lassie, Lawland lassie,</div> +<div class="i0">For Freedom and my King to fight,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie Lawland lassie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The sun a backward course shall take,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,</div> +<div class="i0">Ere aught thy manly courage shake,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie Highland laddie.</div> +<div class="i0">Go, for yoursel procure renown,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,</div> +<div class="i0">And for your lawful King his crown,</div> +<div class="i2">Bonnie Highland laddie!</div> +</div></div> +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a><a name="BANNOCKS_O_BARLEY" id="BANNOCKS_O_BARLEY"></a>BANNOCKS O' BARLEY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Bannocks o' bear meal, <span class="sidenote">Cakes, barley</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Bannocks o' barley;</div> +<div class="i0">Here's to the Highlandman's</div> +<div class="i2">Bannocks o' barley.</div> +<div class="i0">Wha in a brulzie <span class="sidenote">broil</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Will first cry a parley?</div> +<div class="i0">Never the lads wi'</div> +<div class="i2">The bannocks o' barley.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Bannocks o' bear meal,</div> +<div class="i2">Bannocks o' barley;</div> +<div class="i0">Here's to the lads wi'</div> +<div class="i2">The bannocks o' barley;</div> +<div class="i0">Wha in his wae-days <span class="sidenote">woful-</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Were loyal to Charlie?</div> +<div class="i0">Wha but the lads wi'</div> +<div class="i2">The bannocks o' barley.</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="KENMURES_ON_AND_AWA" id="KENMURES_ON_AND_AWA"></a>KENMURE'S ON AND AWA</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, Kenmure's on and awa, Willie!</div> +<div class="i2">O, Kenmure's on and awa!</div> +<div class="i0">And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord</div> +<div class="i2">That ever Galloway saw.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Success to Kenmure's band, Willie!</div> +<div class="i2">Success to Kenmure's band;</div> +<div class="i0">There's no a heart that fears a Whig</div> +<div class="i2">That rides by Kenmure's hand.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a> +<div class="i0">Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie!</div> +<div class="i2">Here's Kenmure's health in wine;</div> +<div class="i0">There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blude, <span class="sidenote">blood</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Nor yet o' Gordon's line.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, Kenmure's lads are men, Willie!</div> +<div class="i2">O, Kenmure's lads are men;</div> +<div class="i0">Their hearts and swords are metal true,</div> +<div class="i2">And that their faes shall ken.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">They'll live or die wi' fame, Willie!</div> +<div class="i2">They'll live or die wi' fame;</div> +<div class="i0">But soon, wi' sounding victorie,</div> +<div class="i2">May Kenmure's lord come hame!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here's him that's far awa, Willie!</div> +<div class="i2">Here's him that's far awa;</div> +<div class="i0">And here's the flower that I lo'e best—</div> +<div class="i2">The rose that's like the snaw!</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THERELL_NEVER_BE_PEACE_TILL_JAMIE_COMES_HAME" id="THERELL_NEVER_BE_PEACE_TILL_JAMIE_COMES_HAME"></a>THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE COMES HAME</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">By yon castle wa', at the close of the day,</div> +<div class="i0">I heard a man sing, tho' his head it was grey:</div> +<div class="i0">And as he was singing, the tears down came—</div> +<div class="i0">‘There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘The church is in ruins, the state is in jars,</div> +<div class="i0">Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars;</div> +<div class="i0">We dare na weel say't, but we ken wha's to blame—</div> +<div class="i0">There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a> +<div class="i0">‘My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, <span class="sidenote">handsome</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And now I greet round their green beds in the yerd; <span class="sidenote">weep, churchyard</span> </div> +<div class="i0">It brak the sweet heart o' my faithfu' auld dame—</div> +<div class="i0">There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Now life is a burden that bows me down,</div> +<div class="i0">Sin' I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown; <span class="sidenote">lost, children</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But till my last moment my words are the same—</div> +<div class="i0">There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.’</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="I_HAE_BEEN_AT_CROOKIEDEN" id="I_HAE_BEEN_AT_CROOKIEDEN"></a>I HAE BEEN AT CROOKIEDEN</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I hae been at Crookieden— <span class="sidenote">Hell</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +<div class="i0">Viewing Willie and his men— <span class="sidenote">Duke of Cumberland</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +<div class="i0">There our foes that burnt and slew—</div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +<div class="i0">There at last they gat their due—</div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Satan sits in his black neuk— <span class="sidenote">corner</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +<div class="i0">Breaking sticks to roast the Duke—</div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +<div class="i0">The bloody monster gae a yell— <span class="sidenote">gave</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +<div class="i0">And loud the laugh gaed round a' Hell— <span class="sidenote">went</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My bonie laddie, Highland laddie!</div> +</div></div> +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a><a name="CHARLIE_HES_MY_DARLING" id="CHARLIE_HES_MY_DARLING"></a>CHARLIE HE'S MY DARLING</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">'Twas on a Monday morning</div> +<div class="i2">Right early in the year,</div> +<div class="i0">That Charlie came to our town—</div> +<div class="i2">The Young Chevalier!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4"><span class="smcap">chorus</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">An' Charlie he's my darling,</div> +<div class="i6">My darling, my darling,</div> +<div class="i4">Charlie he's my darling—</div> +<div class="i6">The Young Chevalier!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">As he was walking up the street</div> +<div class="i2">The city for to view,</div> +<div class="i0">O, there he spied a bonie lass</div> +<div class="i2">The window looking thro!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Sae light's he jumped up the stair,</div> +<div class="i2">And tirl'd at the pin; <span class="sidenote">rattled</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And wha sae ready as hersel'</div> +<div class="i2">To let the laddie in!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He set his Jenny on his knee,</div> +<div class="i2">All in his Highland dress;</div> +<div class="i0">And brawlie weel he kend the way</div> +<div class="i2">To please a bonie lass.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's up yon heathery mountain</div> +<div class="i2">And down yon scraggy glen,</div> +<div class="i0">We daurna gang a-milking</div> +<div class="i2">For Charlie and his men!</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a> +Such in nature and origin are the songs of Burns. Of some three +hundred written or rewritten by him, a large number are negligible in +estimating his poetical capacity. One cause lay in his unfortunate +ambition to write in the style of his eighteenth-century predecessors +in English, with the accompanying mythological allusions, +personifications, and scraps of artificial diction. Another was his +pathetic eagerness to supply Thomson with material in his undertaking +to preserve the old melodies—an eagerness which often led him to send +in verses of which he himself felt that their only defense was that +they were better than none. Thus his collected works are burdened with +a considerable mass of very indifferent stuff. But when this has all +been removed, we have left a body of song such as probably no writer +in any language has bequeathed to his country. It is marked, first of +all, by its peculiar harmony of expression with the utterance of the +common people. Direct and simple, its diction was still capable of +carrying intense feeling, a humor incomparable in its archness and sly +mirth, and a power of idealizing ordinary experience without effort or +affectation. The union of these words with the traditional melodies, +on which we have so<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a> strongly insisted, gave them a superb singing +quality, which has had as much to do with their popularity as their +thought or their feeling. This union, however, has its drawbacks when +we come to consider the songs as literature; for to present them as +here in bare print without the living tune is to perpetuate a divorce +which their author never contemplated. No editor of Burns can fail to +feel a pang when he thinks that these words may be heard by ears that +carry no echo of the airs to which they were born. Here lies the +fundamental reason for what seems to outsiders the exaggerated +estimate of Burns in the judgment of his countrymen. What they extol +is not mere literature, but song, the combination of poetry and music; +and it is only when Burns is judged as an artist in this double sense +that he is judged fairly.</p> + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><br />SATIRES AND EPISTLES</h2> + + +<p>Fame first came to Burns through his satires. Before he had been recognized by +the Edinburgh litterateurs, before he had written more than a handful +of songs, he was known and feared on his own countryside as a +formidable critic of ecclesiastical tyranny. It was this reputation +that made possible the success of the subscription to the Kilmarnock +volume, and so saved Burns to Scotland.</p> + +<p>Two characteristics of the Kirk of Scotland had tended to prepare the +people to welcome an attack on its authority: the severity with which +the clergy administered discipline, and the extremes to which they had +pushed their Calvinism.</p> + +<p>In spite of the existence of dissenting bodies, the great mass of the +population belonged to the established church, and both their +spiritual privileges and their social standing were at the mercy of +the Kirk session and the presiding minister.<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a> +It is difficult for a Protestant community to-day to realize the +extent to which the conduct of the individual and the family were +controlled by the ecclesiastical authorities. Offenses which now would +at most be the subject of private remonstrance were treated as public +crimes and expiated in church before the whole parish. Gavin Hamilton, +Burns's friend and landlord at Mossgiel, a liberal gentleman of means +and standing, was prosecuted in the church courts for lax attendance +at divine service, for traveling on Sabbath, for neglecting family +worship, and for having had one of his servants dig new potatoes on +the Lord's day. Burns's irregular relations with Jean Armour led to +successive appearances by both him and Jean before the congregation, +to receive open rebuke and to profess repentance. Further expiation +was demanded in the form of a contribution for the poor.</p> + +<p>Against the discipline which he himself had to suffer Burns seems to +have made no protest, and probably thought it just enough; but what he +considered the persecution of his friend roused his indignation. This +was all the fiercer as he regarded some of the members of the session +as hypocrites, whose own private morals would not<a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a> stand examination. +Chief among these was a certain William Fisher, immortalized in a +satire the application of which was meant to extend to the whole class +which he represented.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="HOLY_WILLIES_PRAYER" id="HOLY_WILLIES_PRAYER"></a>HOLY WILLIE'S PRAYER</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou, that in the Heavens does dwell,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha, as it pleases best Thysel',</div> +<div class="i0">Sends ane to heaven and ten to hell,</div> +<div class="i12">A' for thy glory,</div> +<div class="i0">And no for ony guid or ill</div> +<div class="i12">They've done before thee!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I bless and praise thy matchless might,</div> +<div class="i0">Whan thousands thou hast left in night,</div> +<div class="i0">That I am here before thy sight,</div> +<div class="i12">For gifts an' grace</div> +<div class="i0">A burning and a shining light,</div> +<div class="i12">To a' this place.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">What was I, or my generation,</div> +<div class="i0">That I should get sic exaltation? <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I, wha deserv'd most just damnation,</div> +<div class="i12">For broken laws,</div> +<div class="i0">Sax thousand years ere my creation, <span class="sidenote">Six</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Thro' Adam's cause.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When from my mither's womb I fell,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou might have plung'd me deep in hell,</div> +<div class="i0">To gnash my gooms, and weep and wail, <span class="sidenote">gums</span> </div> +<div class="i12">In burning lakes,</div> +<div class="i0">Where damned devils roar and yell,</div> +<div class="i12">Chain'd to their stakes;</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a> +<div class="i0">Yet I am here a chosen sample,</div> +<div class="i0">To show Thy grace is great and ample;</div> +<div class="i0">I'm here a pillar o' Thy temple,</div> +<div class="i12">Strong as a rock,</div> +<div class="i0">A guide, a buckler, an example</div> +<div class="i12">To a' Thy flock.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But yet, O Lord! confess I must</div> +<div class="i0">At times I'm fash'd wi' fleshly lust; <span class="sidenote">troubled</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' sometimes too, in warldly trust,</div> +<div class="i12">Vile self gets in;</div> +<div class="i0">But Thou remembers we are dust,</div> +<div class="i12">Defil'd wi' sin.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Lord! yestreen, Thou kens, wi' Meg—</div> +<div class="i0">Thy pardon I sincerely beg—</div> +<div class="i0">O! may't ne'er be a living plague</div> +<div class="i12">To my dishonour,</div> +<div class="i0">An' I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg</div> +<div class="i12">Again upon her.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Besides I farther maun avow— <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' Leezie's lass, three times, I trow—</div> +<div class="i0">But, Lord, that Friday I was fou, <span class="sidenote">drunk</span> </div> +<div class="i12">When I cam near her,</div> +<div class="i0">Or else, Thou kens, thy servant true</div> +<div class="i12">Wad never steer her. <span class="sidenote">meddle with</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">May be Thou lets this fleshly thorn</div> +<div class="i0">Beset Thy servant e'en and morn</div> +<div class="i0">Lest he owre high and proud should turn, <span class="sidenote">too</span> </div> +<div class="i12">That he's sae gifted;</div> +<div class="i0">If sae, Thy hand maun e'en be borne,</div> +<div class="i12">Until thou lift it.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a> +<div class="i0">Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place,</div> +<div class="i0">For here thou hast a chosen race;</div> +<div class="i0">But God confound their stubborn face,</div> +<div class="i12">And blast their name,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha' bring Thy elders to disgrace</div> +<div class="i12">An' public shame.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lord, mind Gau'n Hamilton's deserts,</div> +<div class="i0">He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes, <span class="sidenote">cards</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Yet has sae mony takin' arts</div> +<div class="i12">Wi' great an' sma',</div> +<div class="i0">Frae God's ain priest the people's hearts</div> +<div class="i12">He steals awa'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An' when we chasten'd him therefor,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou kens how he bred sic a splore <span class="sidenote">raised such a row</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As set the warld in a roar</div> +<div class="i12">O' laughin' at us;</div> +<div class="i0">Curse thou his basket and his store,</div> +<div class="i12">Kail and potatoes!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lord hear my earnest cry an' pray'r,</div> +<div class="i0">Against that presbyt'ry o' Ayr;</div> +<div class="i0">Thy strong right hand, Lord, make it bare</div> +<div class="i12">Upo' their heads;</div> +<div class="i0">Lord, visit them, and dinna spare, <span class="sidenote">do not</span> </div> +<div class="i12">For their misdeeds.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Lord my God, that glib-tongu'd Aiken,</div> +<div class="i0">My very heart and soul are quakin',</div> +<div class="i0">To think how we stood sweatin', shakin',</div> +<div class="i12">An' pish'd wi' dread,</div> +<div class="i0">While he, wi' hingin' lips and snakin', <span class="sidenote">sneering</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Held up his head.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a> +<div class="i0">Lord, in Thy day of vengeance try him;</div> +<div class="i0">Lord, visit him wha did employ him,</div> +<div class="i0">And pass not in Thy mercy by them,</div> +<div class="i12">Nor hear their pray'r:</div> +<div class="i0">But, for Thy people's sake, destroy them,</div> +<div class="i12">And dinna spare.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But, Lord, remember me and mine</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' mercies temporal and divine,</div> +<div class="i0">That I for grace and gear may shine <span class="sidenote">wealth</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Excell'd by nane,</div> +<div class="i0">And a' the glory shall be thine,</div> +<div class="i12">Amen, Amen!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Still more highly generalized is his <i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS">Address to the Unco Guid</a></i>, a +plea for charity in judgment, kept from sentimentalism by its gleam of +humor. It has perhaps the widest appeal of any of his poems of this +class. One may note that as Burns passes from the satirical and +humorous tone to the directly didactic, the dialect disappears, and +the last two stanzas are practically pure English.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS" id="ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS"></a>ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4"><i>My son, these maxims make a rule,</i></div> +<div class="i6"><i>And lump them aye thegither;</i> <span class="sidenote">together</span> </div> +<div class="i4"><i>The rigid righteous is a fool,</i></div> +<div class="i6"><i>The rigid wise anither;</i></div> +<div class="i4"><i><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a>The cleanest corn that e'er was dight,</i> <span class="sidenote">sifted</span> </div> +<div class="i6"><i>May hae some pyles o' caff in </i><span class="sidenote">grains, chaff</span> </div> +<div class="i4"><i>So ne'er a fellow-creature slight</i></div> +<div class="i6"><i>For random fits o' daffin.</i> <span class="sidenote">larking</span> </div> +</div> +<p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">Solomon</span> (<i>Eccles.</i> vii. 16).</p> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O ye wha are sae guid yoursel, <span class="sidenote">so good</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Sae pious and sae holy,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye've nought to do but mark and tell</div> +<div class="i2">Your neibour's fauts and folly! <span class="sidenote">faults</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill, <span class="sidenote">well-going</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Supplied wi' store o' water:</div> +<div class="i0">The heapet happer's ebbing still, <span class="sidenote">hopper</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' still the clap plays clatter! <span class="sidenote">clapper</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Hear me, ye venerable core, <span class="sidenote">company</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As counsel for poor mortals</div> +<div class="i0">That frequent pass douce Wisdom's door, <span class="sidenote">sedate</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For glaikit Folly's portals; <span class="sidenote">giddy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,</div> +<div class="i2">Would here propone defences,— <span class="sidenote">put forth</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes, <span class="sidenote">restive</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Their failings and mischances.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye see your state wi' theirs compar'd,</div> +<div class="i2">And shudder at the niffer; <span class="sidenote">exchange</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But cast a moment's fair regard—</div> +<div class="i2">What makes the mighty differ? <span class="sidenote">difference</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Discount what scant occasion gave,</div> +<div class="i2">That purity ye pride in,</div> +<div class="i0">And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) <span class="sidenote">rest</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Your better art o' hidin'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a> +<div class="i0">Think, when your castigated pulse</div> +<div class="i2">Gies now and then a wallop, <span class="sidenote">Gives</span> </div> +<div class="i0">What ragings must his veins convulse,</div> +<div class="i2">That still eternal gallop!</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,</div> +<div class="i2">Right on ye scud your sea-way;</div> +<div class="i0">But in the teeth o' baith to sail,</div> +<div class="i2">It makes an unco leeway. <span class="sidenote">uncommon</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">See Social life and Glee sit down,</div> +<div class="i2">All joyous and unthinking,</div> +<div class="i0">Till, quite transmogrified, they're grown</div> +<div class="i2">Debauchery and Drinking:</div> +<div class="i0">O would they stay to calculate</div> +<div class="i2">Th' eternal consequences;</div> +<div class="i0">Or—your more dreaded hell to state—</div> +<div class="i2">Damnation of expenses!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye high, exalted virtuous Dames,</div> +<div class="i2">Tied up in godly laces,</div> +<div class="i0">Before ye gie poor Frailty names,</div> +<div class="i2">Suppose a change o' cases;</div> +<div class="i0">A dear lov'd lad, convenience snug,</div> +<div class="i2">A treacherous inclination—</div> +<div class="i0">But, let me whisper i' your lug, <span class="sidenote">ear</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Ye're aiblins nae temptation. <span class="sidenote">perhaps</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then gently scan your brother man,</div> +<div class="i2">Still gentler sister woman;</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' they may gang a kennin wrang, <span class="sidenote">trifle</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To step aside is human.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a>One point must still be greatly dark,</div> +<div class="i2">The moving why they do it;</div> +<div class="i0">And just as lamely can ye mark</div> +<div class="i2">How far perhaps they rue it.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Who made the heart, 'tis He alone</div> +<div class="i2">Decidedly can try us;</div> +<div class="i0">He knows each chord, its various tone,</div> +<div class="i2">Each spring, its various bias.</div> +<div class="i0">Then at the balance let's be mute,</div> +<div class="i2">We never can adjust it;</div> +<div class="i0">What's done we partly may compute,</div> +<div class="i2">But know not what's resisted.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>As regards the questions of doctrine there were in the church two main +parties, known as the Auld Lichts and the New Lichts. The former were +high Calvinists, emphasizing the doctrines of election, +predestination, original sin, and eternal punishment. The latter +comprised many of the younger clergy who had been touched by the +rationalistic tendencies of the century, and who were blamed for +various heresies—notably Arminianism and Socinianism. Whatever their +precise beliefs, they laid less stress than their opponents on dogma +and more on benevolent conduct, and Burns had strong sympathy with +their liberalism. He first appeared in their support in an <i>Epistle to +John Goldie</i>, a Kilmarnock wine-<a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a>merchant who had published <i>Essays on +Various Important Subjects, Moral and Divine</i>. Though he does not +explicitly accept the author's Arminianism, he makes it clear that he +relished his attacks on orthodoxy. A quarrel between two prominent +Auld Licht ministers gave him his next opportunity, and the +circulation in manuscript of <i>The Twa Herds: or, The Holy Tulyie</i> made +him a personage in the district. With an irony more vigorous than +delicate he affects to lament that</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The twa best herds in a' the wast, <span class="sidenote">pastors, west</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That e'er ga'e gospel horn a blast <span class="sidenote">gave</span> </div> +<div class="i0">These five an' twenty simmers past—</div> +<div class="i10">Oh, dool to tell! <span class="sidenote">sorrow</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Hae had a bitter black out-cast <span class="sidenote">quarrel</span> </div> +<div class="i10">Atween themsel, <span class="sidenote">Between</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">and he ends with the hope that if patronage could be abolished and the +lairds forced to give</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">the brutes the power themsels</div> +<div class="i4">To chuse their herds,</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then Orthodoxy yet may prance,</div> +<div class="i0">An' Learning in a woody dance, <span class="sidenote">gallows</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' that fell cur ca'd ‘common-sense,’</div> +<div class="i4">That bites sae sair, <span class="sidenote">sorely</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Be banish'd o'er the sea to France;</div> +<div class="i4">Let him bark there.</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a> +More light is thrown on Burns's positive attitude in religious +matters by his <i><a href="#TO_THE_REV_JOHN_MMATH">Epistle to McMath</a></i>, a young New Licht minister in +Tarbolton. From the evidences of the letters, we are justified in +accepting at its face value the profession of reverence for true +religion made by Burns in this epistle; his hatred of the sham needs +no corroboration.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TO_THE_REV_JOHN_MMATH" id="TO_THE_REV_JOHN_MMATH"></a>TO THE REV. JOHN M'MATH</h3> + +<p class="center">Enclosing a Copy of <i><a href="#HOLY_WILLIES_PRAYER">Holy Willie's Prayer</a></i>, which he had requested, +September 17, 1785</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">While at the stook the shearers cow'r <span class="sidenote">shock, reapers</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To shun the bitter blaudin' show'r, <span class="sidenote">driving</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or, in gulravage rinnin', scour; <span class="sidenote">horseplay running</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To pass the time,</div> +<div class="i0">To you I dedicate the hour</div> +<div class="i16">In idle rhyme.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My Musie, tir'd wi' mony a sonnet</div> +<div class="i0">On gown, an' ban', an' douce black-bonnet, <span class="sidenote">sedate</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Is grown right eerie now she's done it, <span class="sidenote">scared</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Lest they should blame her,</div> +<div class="i0">An' rouse their holy thunder on it,</div> +<div class="i16">And anathém her. <span class="sidenote">curse</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a> +<div class="i0">I own 'twas rash, an' rather hardy,</div> +<div class="i0">That I, a simple country bardie,</div> +<div class="i0">Shou'd meddle wi' a pack sae sturdy,</div> +<div class="i16">Wha, if they ken me,</div> +<div class="i0">Can easy, wi' a single wordie,</div> +<div class="i16">Lowse hell upon me. <span class="sidenote">Loose</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But I gae mad at their grimaces,</div> +<div class="i0">Their sighin', cantin', grace-proud faces,</div> +<div class="i0">Their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces,</div> +<div class="i16">Their raxin' conscience, <span class="sidenote">elastic</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whase greed, revenge, an' pride disgraces</div> +<div class="i16">Waur nor their nonsense. <span class="sidenote">Worse than</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There's Gau'n, misca't waur than a beast,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha has mair honour in his breast</div> +<div class="i0">Than mony scores as guid's the priest <span class="sidenote">good as</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wha sae abus'd him:</div> +<div class="i0">An' may a bard no crack his jest</div> +<div class="i16">What way they've used him? <span class="sidenote">On the fashion</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">See him the poor man's friend in need,</div> +<div class="i0">The gentleman in word an' deed,</div> +<div class="i0">An' shall his fame an' honour bleed</div> +<div class="i16">By worthless skellums, <span class="sidenote">railers</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' not a Muse erect her head</div> +<div class="i16">To cowe the blellums? <span class="sidenote">daunt, blusterers</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Pope, had I thy satire's darts</div> +<div class="i0">To gie the rascals their deserts, <span class="sidenote">give</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'd rip their rotten, hollow hearts,</div> +<div class="i16">An' tell aloud</div> +<div class="i0">Their jugglin', hocus-pocus arts</div> +<div class="i16">To cheat the crowd.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a> +<div class="i0">God knows I'm no the thing I should be,</div> +<div class="i0">Nor am I even the thing I could be,</div> +<div class="i0">But, twenty times, I rather would be</div> +<div class="i16">An atheist clean,</div> +<div class="i0">Than under gospel colours hid be,</div> +<div class="i16">Just for a screen.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An honest man may like a glass,</div> +<div class="i0">An honest man may like a lass;</div> +<div class="i0">But mean revenge, an' malice fause, <span class="sidenote">false</span> </div> +<div class="i16">He'll still disdain,</div> +<div class="i0">An' then cry zeal for gospel laws,</div> +<div class="i16">Like some we ken.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">They tak religion in their mouth;</div> +<div class="i0">They talk o' mercy, grace, an' truth,</div> +<div class="i0">For what? To gie their malice skouth <span class="sidenote">scope</span> </div> +<div class="i16">On some puir wight,</div> +<div class="i0">An' hunt him down, o'er right an' ruth, <span class="sidenote">against</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To ruin straight.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">All hail, Religion, maid divine!</div> +<div class="i0">Pardon a muse sae mean as mine,</div> +<div class="i0">Who in her rough imperfect line</div> +<div class="i16">Thus daurs to name thee;</div> +<div class="i0">To stigmatize false friends of thine</div> +<div class="i16">Can ne'er defame thee.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Tho' blotcht an' foul wi' mony a stain,</div> +<div class="i0">An' far unworthy of thy train,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' trembling voice I tune my strain</div> +<div class="i16">To join wi' those</div> +<div class="i0">Who boldly daur thy cause maintain</div> +<div class="i16">In spite o' foes:</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a> +<div class="i0">In spite o' crowds, in spite o' mobs,</div> +<div class="i0">In spite of undermining jobs.</div> +<div class="i0">In spite o' dark banditti stabs</div> +<div class="i16">At worth an' merit,</div> +<div class="i0">By scoundrels, even wi' holy robes,</div> +<div class="i16">But hellish spirit.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Ayr, my dear, my native ground!</div> +<div class="i0">Within thy presbyterial bound,</div> +<div class="i0">A candid lib'ral band is found</div> +<div class="i16">Of public teachers,</div> +<div class="i0">As men, as Christians too, renown'd,</div> +<div class="i16">An' manly preachers.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Sir, in that circle you are nam'd,</div> +<div class="i0">Sir, in that circle you are fam'd;</div> +<div class="i0">An' some, by whom your doctrine's blam'd,</div> +<div class="i16">(Which gies you honour)—</div> +<div class="i0">Even, sir, by them your heart's esteem'd,</div> +<div class="i16">An' winning manner.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Pardon this freedom I have ta'en,</div> +<div class="i0">An' if impertinent I've been,</div> +<div class="i0">Impute it not, good sir, in ane</div> +<div class="i16">Whase heart ne'er wrang'd ye,</div> +<div class="i0">But to his utmost would befriend</div> +<div class="i16">Ought that belang'd ye. <span class="sidenote">was yours</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<p>A further fling at orthodoxy appeared in <i>The Ordination</i>, a piece +written to comfort the Kilmarnock liberals when an Auld Licht minister +was selected for the second charge there. The<a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a> tone is again one of +ironical congratulation, and Burns describes the rejoicings of the +elect with infinite zest. Two stanzas on the church music will +illustrate his method.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Mak haste an' turn King David owre, <span class="sidenote">open the Psalms</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' lilt wi' holy clangor; <span class="sidenote">sing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O' double verse come gie us four<span class="sidenote">give</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' skirl up the <i>Bangor</i>: <span class="sidenote">shriek, a Psalm-tune</span> </div> +<div class="i0">This day the Kirk kicks up a stoure, <span class="sidenote">dust</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Nae mair the knaves shall wrang her, <span class="sidenote">No more</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For Heresy is in her pow'r,</div> +<div class="i2">And gloriously she'll whang her <span class="sidenote">thrash</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' pith this day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><hr style='width: 45%;' /></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Nae mair by Babel streams we'll weep,</div> +<div class="i2">To think upon our Zion;</div> +<div class="i0">And hing our fiddles up to sleep,<span class="sidenote">hang</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Like baby-clouts a-dryin';</div> +<div class="i0">Come, screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheep, <span class="sidenote">chirp</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And o'er the thairms be tryin';<span class="sidenote">strings</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O, rare! to see our elbucks wheep, <span class="sidenote">elbows jerk</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And a' like lamb-tails flyin'</div> +<div class="i16">Fu' fast this day!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>In the same ironical fashion he digresses in his <i>Dedication to Gavin +Hamilton</i> to satirize the “high-fliers'” contempt for “cold morality” +and for their faith in the power of orthodox belief to cover lapses in +conduct.</p> +<div class="poem"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i6">Morality, thou deadly bane,</div> +<div class="i0">Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain!</div> +<div class="i0">Vain is his hope, whose stay and trust is</div> +<div class="i0">In moral mercy, truth and justice!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i6">No—stretch a point to catch a plack; <span class="sidenote">small coin</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Abuse a brother to his back;</div> +<div class="i0">Steal thro' the winnock frae a whore, <span class="sidenote">window from</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But point the rake that takes the door:</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><hr style='width: 45%;' /></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i6">Be to the poor like ony whunstane,<span class="sidenote">any whinstone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And haud their noses to the grunstane;<span class="sidenote">hold, grindstone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ply ev'ry art o' legal thieving;</div> +<div class="i0">No matter—stick to sound believing.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i6">Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang, wry faces; <span class="sidenote">palms</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan,</div> +<div class="i0">And damn a' parties but your own;</div> +<div class="i0">I'll warrant them ye're nae deceiver,</div> +<div class="i0">A steady, sturdy, staunch believer.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The period within which these satires were written was short—1785 and +1786; but some three years later, on the prosecution of a liberal +minister, Doctor McGill of Ayr, for the publication of <i>A Practical +Essay on the Death of Jesus Christ</i>, which was charged with teaching +Unitarianism, Burns took up the theme again. <i>The Kirk's Alarm</i> is a +rattling “ballad,” full of energy<a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a> and scurrilous wit, but, like many +of its kind, it has lost much of its interest through the great amount +of personal detail. A few stanzas will show that, even after his +absence from local politics during his Edinburgh sojourn, he had lost +none of his gusto in belaboring the Ayrshire Calvinists.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Orthodox, Orthodox, wha believe in John Knox,</div> +<div class="i2">Let me sound an alarm to your conscience:</div> +<div class="i0">There's a heretic blast has been blawn i' the wast,</div> +<div class="i2">That what is not sense must be nonsense.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Dr. Mac, Dr. Mac, you should stretch on a rack,</div> +<div class="i2">To strike evil-doers wi' terror;</div> +<div class="i0">To join faith and sense upon any pretence,</div> +<div class="i2">Is heretic, damnable error.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><hr style='width: 45%;' /></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">D'rymple mild, D'rymple mild, tho' your heart's like a child,</div> +<div class="i2">And your life like the new driven snaw,</div> +<div class="i0">Yet that winna save ye, auld Satan must have ye,</div> +<div class="i2">For preaching that three's ane and twa.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Calvin's sons, Calvin's sons, seize your sp'ritual guns,</div> +<div class="i2">Ammunition you never can need;</div> +<div class="i0">Your hearts are the stuff will be powther enough,</div> +<div class="i2">And your skulls are storehouses o' lead.</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a> +It was inevitable from the nature and purpose of these satirical +poems that, however keen an interest they might raise in their time +and place, a large part of that interest should evaporate in the +course of time. Yet it would be a mistake to regard their importance +as limited to raising a laugh against a few obscure bigots. The evils +that Burns attacked, however his verses may be tinged with personal +animus and occasional injustice, were real evils that existed far +beyond the county of Ayr; and in the movement for enlightenment and +liberation from these evils and their like that was then sweeping over +Scotland, the wit and invective of the poet played no small part. The +development that followed did, indeed, take a direction that he was +far from foreseeing. The moderate party, which he supported, gradually +gained the upper hand in the Kirk, and, upholding as it did the system +of patronage, became more and more associated with the aristocracy who +bestowed the livings. The result was that the moderate clergy +degenerated under prosperity and lost their spiritual zeal; while +their opponents, chastened by adversity, became the champions of the +autonomy of the church, and, in the “ten years' conflict” that broke +out little<a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a> more than a generation after the death of Burns, showed +themselves of the stuff of the martyrs. It would be impossible to +trace the extent of the influence of the poet on the purging of +orthodoxy or on the limitation of ecclesiastical despotism, since his +work was in accord with the drift of the times; but it is fair to +infer that, especially among the common people who were less likely to +be reached by more philosophical discussion, his share was far from +inconsiderable.</p> + +<p>The poetical value of the satires is another matter. It may be +questioned whether satire is ever essentially poetry, as poetry has +been understood for the last hundred years. The dominant mood of +satire is too antagonistic to imagination. But if we restrict our +attention to the characteristic qualities of verse satire—vividness +in depicting its object, blazing indignation or bitter scorn in its +attitude, and wit in its expression, we shall be forced to grant that +Burns achieved here notable success. Of the rarer power of satire to +rise above the local, temporal, and personal to the exhibiting of +universal elements in human life, there are comparatively few +instances in Burns. The <i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS">Address to the Unco Guid</a></i> is perhaps the +finest example; and here, as usually in his work, the ap<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a>proach to the +general leads him to drop the scourge for the sermon.</p> + +<p>In his tendency to preach, Burns was as much the inheritor of a +national tradition as in any of his other characteristics. A strain of +moralizing is well marked in the Scottish poets even before the +Reformation, and, since the time of Burns, the preaching Scot has been +notably exemplified not only in a professed prophet like Carlyle, but +in so artistic a temperament as Stevenson. Nor did consciousness of +his failures in practise embarrass Burns in the indulgence of the +luxury of precept. Side by side with frank confessions of weakness we +find earnest if not stern exhortations to do, not as he did, but as he +taught. And as Scots have an appetite for hearing as well as for +making sermons, his didactic pieces are among those most quoted and +relished by his countrymen. The morally elevated but poetically +inferior closing stanzas of <i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday Night</a></i> are an +instance in point; others are the morals appended to <i><a href="#TO_A_MOUSE">To a Mouse</a></i> and +<i><a href="#TO_A_MOUNTAIN_DAISY">To a Daisy</a></i>, and to a number of his rhyming epistles.</p> + +<p>These epistles are among the most significant of his writings for the +reader in search of personal revelations. The <i>Epistle to James Smith</i> +<a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a>contains the much-quoted stanza on the poet's motives:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Some rhyme a neebor's name to lash;</div> +<div class="i0">Some rhyme (vain thought!) for needful cash;</div> +<div class="i0">Some rhyme to court the countra clash, <span class="sidenote">gossip</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' raise a din;</div> +<div class="i0">For me, an aim I never fash; <span class="sidenote">trouble about</span> </div> +<div class="i16">I rhyme for fun.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Another gives his view of his equipment:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The star that rules my luckless lot,</div> +<div class="i0">Has fated me the russet coat,</div> +<div class="i0">An' damned my fortune to the groat;</div> +<div class="i16">But, in requit,</div> +<div class="i0">Has blest me with a random-shot</div> +<div class="i16">O' countra wit. <span class="sidenote">country</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<p>Then he passes from literary considerations to his general philosophy +of life:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But why o' death begin a tale?</div> +<div class="i0">Just now we're living sound an' hale;</div> +<div class="i0">Then top and maintop crowd the sail;</div> +<div class="i16">Heave Care o'er-side!</div> +<div class="i0">And large, before Enjoyment's gale,</div> +<div class="i16">Let's tak the tide.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><hr style='width: 45%;' /></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When ance life's day draws near the gloamin,</div> +<div class="i0">Then fareweel vacant, careless roamin;</div> +<div class="i0">An' fareweel cheerfu' tankards foamin,</div> +<div class="i16">An' social noise:</div> +<div class="i0">An' fareweel dear, deluding Woman,</div> +<div class="i16">The joy of joys!</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a> +Here, as often, he contrasts his own reckless impulsive temper with +that of prudent calculation:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">With steady aim, some Fortune chase;</div> +<div class="i0">Keen Hope does ev'ry sinew brace;</div> +<div class="i0">Thro' fair, thro' foul, they urge the race,</div> +<div class="i16">And seize the prey:</div> +<div class="i0">Then cannie, in some cozie place, <span class="sidenote">quietly</span> </div> +<div class="i16">They close the day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And others, like your humble servan',</div> +<div class="i0">Poor wights! nae rules nor roads observin',</div> +<div class="i0">To right or left eternal swervin',</div> +<div class="i16">They zig-zag on;</div> +<div class="i0">Till, curst with age, obscure an' starvin',</div> +<div class="i16">They aften groan.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><hr style='width: 45%;' /></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O ye douce folk that live by rule,</div> +<div class="i0">Grave, tideless-blooded, calm an' cool,</div> +<div class="i0">Compar'd wi' you—O fool! fool! fool!</div> +<div class="i16">How much unlike!</div> +<div class="i0">Your hearts are just a standing pool,</div> +<div class="i16">Your lives a dyke! <span class="sidenote">stone wall</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<p>Nothing is more characteristic of the poet than this attitude toward +prudence—this mixture of Intellectual respect with emotional +contempt. He admits freely that restraint and calculation pay, but +impulse makes life so much more interesting!</p> +<p><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a> +The <i><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_DAVIE_A_BROTHER_POET">Epistle to Davie, a Brother Poet</a></i>, deserves to be quoted in +full. It contains the final phrasing of the central point of Burns's +ethics, the Scottish rustic's version of that philosophy of +benevolence with which Shaftesbury sought to warm the chill of +eighteenth-century thought:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The heart aye's the part aye</div> +<div class="i0">That makes us right or wrang.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The mood of this poem is Burns's middle mood, lying between the black +melancholy of his poems of despair and remorse and the exhilaration of +his more exalted bacchanalian and love songs—the mood, we may infer, +of his normal working life. We may again observe the correspondence +between the change of dialect and change of tone in stanzas nine and +ten, the increase of artificiality coming with his literary English +and culminating in the unspeakable “tenebrific scene.” His humor +returns with his Scots in the last verse.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="EPISTLE_TO_DAVIE_A_BROTHER_POET" id="EPISTLE_TO_DAVIE_A_BROTHER_POET"></a>EPISTLE TO DAVIE, A BROTHER POET</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">While winds frae aff Ben Lomond blaw,</div> +<div class="i0">And bar the doors wi' driving snaw,</div> +<div class="i2">And hing us owre the ingle, <span class="sidenote">hang, fire</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I set me down to pass the time,</div> +<div class="i0">And spin a verse or twa o' rhyme,</div> +<div class="i2">In hamely westlin jingle. <span class="sidenote">west-country</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a>While frosty winds blaw in the drift,</div> +<div class="i2">Ben to the chimla lug, <span class="sidenote">In, chimney-corner</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I grudge a wee the great-folk's gift,</div> +<div class="i2">That live sae bien an' snug; <span class="sidenote">comfortable</span> </div> +<div class="i4">I tent less, and want less <span class="sidenote">value</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Their roomy fire-side;</div> +<div class="i4">But hanker and canker</div> +<div class="i6">To see their cursèd pride.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's hardly in a body's pow'r,</div> +<div class="i0">To keep, at times, frae being sour,</div> +<div class="i2">To see how things are shar'd;</div> +<div class="i0">How best o' chiels are whyles in want <span class="sidenote">fellows, sometimes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While coofs on countless thousands rant <span class="sidenote">dolts, roister</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And ken na how to wair't: <span class="sidenote">spend it</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But, Davie, lad, ne'er fash your head, <span class="sidenote">trouble</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Tho' we hae little gear, <span class="sidenote">wealth</span> </div> +<div class="i0">We're fit to win our daily bread,</div> +<div class="i2">As lang's we're hale and fier: <span class="sidenote">lusty</span> </div> +<div class="i4">‘Mair spier na, nor fear na,’ <span class="sidenote">More ask not</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Auld age ne'er mind a feg; <span class="sidenote">fig</span> </div> +<div class="i4">The last o't, the warst o't,</div> +<div class="i6">Is only but to beg.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">To lie in kilns and barns at e'en,</div> +<div class="i0">When banes are craz'd, and bluid is thin, <span class="sidenote">bones</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Is, doubtless, great distress!</div> +<div class="i0">Yet then content could mak us blest;</div> +<div class="i0">Ev'n then, sometimes, we'd snatch a taste</div> +<div class="i2">Of truest happiness.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a>The honest heart that's free frae a'</div> +<div class="i2">Intended fraud or guile,</div> +<div class="i0">However Fortune kick the ba', <span class="sidenote">ball</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Has aye some cause to smile:</div> +<div class="i4">And mind still, you'll find still,</div> +<div class="i6">A comfort this nae sma'; <span class="sidenote">not small</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Nae mair then, we'll care then,</div> +<div class="i6">Nae farther can we fa'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">What tho' like commoners of air,</div> +<div class="i0">We wander out, we know not where,</div> +<div class="i2">But either house or hal'? <span class="sidenote">Without</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Yet nature's charms, the hills and woods,</div> +<div class="i0">The sweeping vales, and foaming floods,</div> +<div class="i2">Are free alike to all.</div> +<div class="i0">In days when daisies deck the ground,</div> +<div class="i2">And blackbirds whistle clear,</div> +<div class="i0">With honest joy our hearts will bound,</div> +<div class="i2">To see the coming year:</div> +<div class="i4">On braes when we please, then, <span class="sidenote">hill-sides</span> </div> +<div class="i6">We'll sit and sowth a tune <span class="sidenote">hum</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Syne rhyme till't, we'll time till't, <span class="sidenote">Then</span> </div> +<div class="i6">And sing't when we hae done.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's no in titles nor in rank;</div> +<div class="i0">It's no in wealth like Lon'on bank,</div> +<div class="i2">To purchase peace and rest;</div> +<div class="i0">It's no in making muckle, mair: <span class="sidenote">much, more</span> </div> +<div class="i0">It's no in books, it's no in lear, <span class="sidenote">learning</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To make us truly blest:</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a>If happiness hae not her seat</div> +<div class="i2">And centre in the breast,</div> +<div class="i0">We may be wise, or rich, or great,</div> +<div class="i2">But never can be blest:</div> +<div class="i4">Nae treasures, nor pleasures,</div> +<div class="i6">Could make us happy lang;</div> +<div class="i4">The heart aye's the part aye</div> +<div class="i6">That makes us right or wrang.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Think ye, that sic as you and I, <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha drudge and drive thro' wet an' dry,</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' never-ceasing toil;</div> +<div class="i0">Think ye, are we less blest than they,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha scarcely tent us in their way, <span class="sidenote">note</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As hardly worth their while?</div> +<div class="i0">Alas! how oft in haughty mood,</div> +<div class="i2">God's creatures they oppress!</div> +<div class="i0">Or else, neglecting a' that's guid,</div> +<div class="i2">They riot in excess!</div> +<div class="i4">Baith careless, and fearless,</div> +<div class="i6">Of either heav'n or hell!</div> +<div class="i4">Esteeming, and deeming</div> +<div class="i6">It's a' an idle tale!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then let us cheerfu' acquiesce;</div> +<div class="i0">Nor make our scanty pleasures less,</div> +<div class="i2">By pining at our state;</div> +<div class="i0">And, even should misfortunes come,</div> +<div class="i0">I, here wha sit, hae met wi' some,</div> +<div class="i2">An's thankfu' for them yet. <span class="sidenote">And am</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a>They gie the wit of age to youth;</div> +<div class="i2">They let us ken oursel;</div> +<div class="i0">They mak us see the naked truth,</div> +<div class="i2">The real guid and ill.</div> +<div class="i4">Tho' losses, and crosses,</div> +<div class="i6">Be lessons right severe,</div> +<div class="i4">There's wit there, ye'll get there,</div> +<div class="i6">Ye'll find nae other where.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But tent me, Davie, ace o' hearts! <span class="sidenote">note</span> </div> +<div class="i0">(To say aught less wad wrang the cartes, <span class="sidenote">cards</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And flatt'ry I detest)</div> +<div class="i0">This life has joys for you and I;</div> +<div class="i0">And joys that riches ne'er could buy;</div> +<div class="i2">And joys the very best.</div> +<div class="i0">There's a' the pleasures o' the heart,</div> +<div class="i2">The lover an' the frien';</div> +<div class="i0">Ye hae your Meg, your dearest part,</div> +<div class="i2">And I my darling Jean!</div> +<div class="i4">It warms me, it charms me,</div> +<div class="i6">To mention but her name:</div> +<div class="i4">It heats me, it beets me, <span class="sidenote">kindles</span> </div> +<div class="i6">And sets me a' on flame!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O all ye pow'rs who rule above!</div> +<div class="i0">O Thou, whose very self art love!</div> +<div class="i2">Thou know'st my words sincere!</div> +<div class="i0">The life-blood streaming thro' my heart,</div> +<div class="i0">Or my more dear immortal part,</div> +<div class="i2">Is not more fondly dear!</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a>When heart-corroding care and grief</div> +<div class="i2">Deprive my soul of rest,</div> +<div class="i0">Her dear idea brings relief</div> +<div class="i2">And solace to my breast.</div> +<div class="i4">Thou Being, All-seeing,</div> +<div class="i6">O hear my fervent pray'r;</div> +<div class="i4">Still take her, and make her</div> +<div class="i6">Thy most peculiar care!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">All hail, ye tender feelings dear!</div> +<div class="i0">The smile of love, the friendly tear,</div> +<div class="i2">The sympathetic glow!</div> +<div class="i0">Long since this world's thorny ways</div> +<div class="i0">Had number'd out my weary days,</div> +<div class="i2">Had it not been for you!</div> +<div class="i0">Fate still has blest me with a friend,</div> +<div class="i2">In every care and ill;</div> +<div class="i0">And oft a more endearing band,</div> +<div class="i2">A tie more tender still,</div> +<div class="i4">It lightens, it brightens</div> +<div class="i6">The tenebrific scene,</div> +<div class="i4">To meet with, and greet with</div> +<div class="i6">My Davie or my Jean.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, how that name inspires my style!</div> +<div class="i0">The words come skelpin', rank and file, <span class="sidenote">spanking</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Amaist before I ken! <span class="sidenote">Almost</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The ready measure ring as fine</div> +<div class="i0">As Phoebus and the famous Nine</div> +<div class="i2">Were glowrin' owre my pen. <span class="sidenote">staring over</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a>My spavied Pegasus will limp, <span class="sidenote">spavined</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Till ance he's fairly het; <span class="sidenote">once, hot</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And then he'll hilch, and stilt, and jump, <span class="sidenote">hobble, limp, jump</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' rin an unco fit: <span class="sidenote">surprising spurt</span> </div> +<div class="i4">But lest then the beast then</div> +<div class="i6">Should rue this hasty ride,</div> +<div class="i4">I'll light now, and dight now <span class="sidenote">wipe</span> </div> +<div class="i6">His sweaty, wizen'd hide.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The didactic tendency reaches its height in the <i><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_A_YOUNG_FRIEND">Epistle to a Young +Friend</a></i>. Here there is no personal confession, but a conscious and +professed sermon, unrelated, as the last line shows, to the practise +of the preacher. It is, of course, only poetry in the +eighteenth-century sense—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed—</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">and as such it should be judged. The critics who have reacted most +violently against the attempted canonization of Burns have been +inclined to sneer at this admirable homily, and to insinuate +insincerity. But human nature affords every-day examples of just such +perfectly sincere inconsistency as we find between the sixth stanza +and Burns's own conduct; while not inconsistency but a very genuine +rhetoric inspires the characteristic quatrain which closes the +seventh.</p> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a><a name="EPISTLE_TO_A_YOUNG_FRIEND" id="EPISTLE_TO_A_YOUNG_FRIEND"></a>EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend,</div> +<div class="i2">A something to have sent you,</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' it should serve nae ither end</div> +<div class="i2">Than just a kind memento; <span class="sidenote">sort of</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But how the subject-theme may gang,</div> +<div class="i2">Let time and chance determine;</div> +<div class="i0">Perhaps it may turn out a sang,</div> +<div class="i2">Perhaps turn out a sermon.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye'll try the world soon, my lad,</div> +<div class="i2">And, Andrew dear, believe me,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye'll find mankind an unco squad, <span class="sidenote">queer</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And muckle they may grieve ye: <span class="sidenote">much</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For care and trouble set your thought,</div> +<div class="i2">Ev'n when your end's attainéd:</div> +<div class="i0">And a' your views may come to nought,</div> +<div class="i2">Where ev'ry nerve is strainéd.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I'll no say men are villains a';</div> +<div class="i2">The real harden'd wicked,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha hae nae check but human law,</div> +<div class="i2">Are to a few restricked;</div> +<div class="i0">But och! mankind are unco weak, <span class="sidenote">extremely</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' little to be trusted;</div> +<div class="i0">If Self the wavering balance shake,</div> +<div class="i2">It's rarely right adjusted!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Yet they wha fa' in Fortune's strife.</div> +<div class="i2">Their fate we shouldna censure;</div> +<div class="i0">For still th' important end of life</div> +<div class="i2">They equally may answer.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>A man may hae an honest heart,</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' poortith hourly stare him; <span class="sidenote">poverty</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A man may tak a neibor's part,</div> +<div class="i0">Yet hae nae cash to spare him.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Aye free, aff han', your story tell,</div> +<div class="i2">When wi' a bosom crony;</div> +<div class="i0">But still keep something to yoursel</div> +<div class="i2">Ye scarcely tell to ony.</div> +<div class="i0">Conceal yoursel as weel's ye can</div> +<div class="i2">Frae critical dissection;</div> +<div class="i0">But keek thro' ev'ry other man <span class="sidenote">pry</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' sharpen'd sly inspection.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The sacred lowe o' weel-plac'd love, <span class="sidenote">flame</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Luxuriantly indulge it;</div> +<div class="i0">But never tempt th' illicit rove, <span class="sidenote">attempt, roving</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Tho' naething should divulge it:</div> +<div class="i0">I waive the quantum o' the sin,</div> +<div class="i2">The hazard of concealing;</div> +<div class="i0">But och! it hardens a' within,</div> +<div class="i2">And petrifies the feeling!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">To catch Dame Fortune's golden smile,</div> +<div class="i2">Assiduous wait upon her;</div> +<div class="i0">And gather gear by ev'ry wile</div> +<div class="i2">That's justified by honour;</div> +<div class="i0">Not for to hide it in a hedge,</div> +<div class="i2">Nor for a train-attendant;</div> +<div class="i0">But for the glorious privilege</div> +<div class="i2">Of being independent.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a> +<div class="i0">The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip</div> +<div class="i2">To haud the wretch in order; <span class="sidenote">hold</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But where ye feel your honour grip,</div> +<div class="i2">Let that aye be your border:</div> +<div class="i0">Its slightest touches, instant pause—</div> +<div class="i2">Debar a' side pretences;</div> +<div class="i0">And resolutely keep its laws,</div> +<div class="i2">Uncaring consequences.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The great Creator to revere</div> +<div class="i2">Must sure become the creature;</div> +<div class="i0">But still the preaching cant forbear,</div> +<div class="i2">And ev'n the rigid feature:</div> +<div class="i0">Yet ne'er with wits profane to range</div> +<div class="i2">Be complaisance extended;</div> +<div class="i0">An atheist-laugh's a poor exchange</div> +<div class="i2">For Deity offended.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When ranting round in Pleasure's ring, <span class="sidenote">frolicking</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Religion may be blinded;</div> +<div class="i0">Or, if she gie a random sting,</div> +<div class="i2">It may be little minded;</div> +<div class="i0">But when on life we're tempest-driv'n—</div> +<div class="i2">A conscience but a canker—</div> +<div class="i0">A correspondence fix'd wi' Heav'n</div> +<div class="i2">Is sure a noble anchor.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Adieu, dear amiable youth!</div> +<div class="i2">Your heart can ne'er be wanting!</div> +<div class="i0">May prudence, fortitude, and truth</div> +<div class="i2">Erect your brow undaunting.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a>In ploughman phrase, God send you speed</div> +<div class="i2">Still daily to grow wiser;</div> +<div class="i0">And may ye better reck the rede <span class="sidenote">heed the advice</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Than ever did th' adviser!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The general level of the rhyming letters of Burns is astonishingly +high. They bear, as such compositions should, the impression of free +spontaneity, and indeed often read like sheer improvisations. Yet they +are sprinkled with admirable stanzas of natural description, shrewd +criticism, delightful humor, and are pervaded by a delicate +tactfulness possible only to a man with a genius for friendship. They +are usually written in the favorite six-line stanza, the meter that +flowed most easily from his pen, and in language are the richest +vernacular. His ambition to be “literary” seldom brings in its jarring +notes here, and indeed at times he seems to avenge himself on this +besetting sin by a very individual jocoseness toward the mythological +figures that intrude into his more serious efforts. His Muse is the +special victim. Instead of the conventional draped figure she becomes +a “tapetless, ramfeezl'd hizzie,” “saft at best an' something lazy;” +she is a “thowless jad;” or she is dethroned altogether:</p> +<div class="poem"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">“We'll cry nae jads frae heathen hills</div> +<div class="i16">To help or roose us, <span class="sidenote">inspire</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But browster wives an' whisky stills—<span class="sidenote">brewer</span> </div> +<div class="i16">They are the Muses!”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Again the tone is one of affectionate familiarity:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Leeze me on rhyme! It's aye a treasure, <span class="sidenote">Blessings on</span> </div> +<div class="i0">My chief, amaist my only pleasure; <span class="sidenote">almost</span> </div> +<div class="i0">At hame, a-fiel', at wark or leisure,</div> +<div class="i16">The Muse, poor hizzie,</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' rough an' raploch be her measure, <span class="sidenote">homespun</span> </div> +<div class="i16">She's seldom lazy.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Haud to the Muse, my dainty Davie:</div> +<div class="i0">The warl' may play you monie a shavie, <span class="sidenote">ill turn</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But for the Muse, she'll never leave ye,</div> +<div class="i16">Tho' e'er sae puir; <span class="sidenote">so poor</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Na, even tho' limpin wi' the spavie <span class="sidenote">spavin</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Frae door to door!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Once more, half scolding, half flattering:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye glaikit, gleesome, dainty damies, <span class="sidenote">giddy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha by Castalia's wimplin streamies <span class="sidenote">winding</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Lowp, sing, and lave your pretty limbies, <span class="sidenote">Dance</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Ye ken, ye ken,</div> +<div class="i0">That strang necessity supreme is</div> +<div class="i16">'Mang sons o' men.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The epigrams, epitaphs, elegies, and other occasional verses thrown +off by Burns and dili<a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a>gently collected by his editors need little +discussion. They not infrequently exhibit the less generous sides of +his character, and but seldom demand rereading on account of their +neatness or felicity or energy. One may be given as an example:</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="ON_JOHN_DOVE_INNKEEPER" id="ON_JOHN_DOVE_INNKEEPER"></a>ON JOHN DOVE, INNKEEPER</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here lies Johnie Pigeon:</div> +<div class="i0">What was his religion</div> +<div class="i6">Whae'er desires to ken</div> +<div class="i0">In some other warl' <span class="sidenote">world</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Maun follow the carl <span class="sidenote">Must, old fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i6">For here Johnie Pigeon had none!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Strong ale was ablution;</div> +<div class="i0">Small beer, persecution;</div> +<div class="i6">A dram was <i>memento mori</i>;</div> +<div class="i0">But a full flowing bowl</div> +<div class="i0">Was the saving his soul,</div> +<div class="i6">And port was celestial glory!</div> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a> +<a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /><br />DESCRIPTIVE AND NARRATIVE POETRY</h2> + + +<p>The “world of Scotch drink, Scotch manners, and Scotch religion” was +not, Matthew Arnold insisted, a beautiful world, and it was, he held, +a disadvantage to Burns that he had not a beautiful world to deal +with. This famous dictum is a standing challenge to any critic who +regards Burns as a creator of beauty. It is true that when Burns took +this world at its apparent worst, when Scotch drink meant bestial +drunkenness, when Scotch manners meant shameless indecency, when +Scotch religion meant blasphemous defiance, he created <i><a href="#THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS">The Jolly +Beggars</a></i>, which the same critic found a “splendid and puissant +production.” We must conclude, then, that sufficient genius can +sublimate even a hideously sordid world into a superb work of art, +which is presumably beautiful.</p> + +<p>But the verdict passed on the Scottish world<a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a> of Burns is not to be +taken without scrutiny. A review of those poems of Burns that are +primarily descriptive will recall to us the chief features of that +world.</p> + +<p>Let us begin with <i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday Night</a></i>, Burns's tribute to +his father's house. Let us discard the introductory stanza of +dedication, as not organically a part of the poem. The scene is set in +a gray November landscape. The tired laborer is shown returning to his +cottage, no touch of idealization being added to the picture of +physical weariness save what comes from the feeling for home and wife +and children. Then follow the gathering of the older sons and +daughter, the telling of the experiences of the week, and the advice +of the father. The daughter's suitor arrives, and the girl's +consciousness as well as the lover's shyness are delicately rendered. +Two stanzas in English moralize the situation, and for our present +purpose may be ignored. The supper of porridge and milk and a bit of +cheese is followed by a reverent account of family prayers, the father +leading, the family joining in the singing of the psalm. And as they +part for the night, the poet is carried away<a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a> into an elevated +apostrophe to the country whose foundations rest upon such a +peasantry, and closes with a patriotic prayer for its preservation.</p> + +<p>The truth of the picture is indubitable. The poet could, of course, +have chosen another phase of the same life. The cotter could have come +home rheumatic and found the children squalling and the wife cross. +The daughter might have been seduced, and the sons absent in the +ale-house. But what he does describe is just as typical, and it is +beautiful, though the manners and religion are Scottish.</p> + +<p>Another social occasion is the subject of <i><a href="#HALLOWEEN">Halloween</a></i>. The poem, with +Burns's notes, is a mine of folk-lore, but we are concerned with it as +literature. Here the tone is humorous instead of reverent, the +characters are mixed, the selection is more widely representative. +With complete frankness, the poet exhibits human nature under the +influence of the mating instinct, directed by harmless, age-old +superstitions. The superstitions are not attacked, but gently +ridiculed. The fundamental veracity of the whole is seen when we +realize that, in spite of the strong local color, it is +psychologically true for similar festivities among the peasantry of +all countries.</p> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a> +<a name="HALLOWEEN" id="HALLOWEEN"></a>HALLOWEEN<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Upon that night, when fairies light</div> +<div class="i2">On Cassilis Downans<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> dance,</div> +<div class="i0">Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, <span class="sidenote">over, pastures</span> </div> +<div class="i2">On sprightly coursers prance;</div> +<div class="i0">Or for Colean the rout is ta'en, <span class="sidenote"><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original has this note on the line above">road</ins></span> </div> +<div class="i2">Beneath the moon's pale beams;</div> +<div class="i0">There, up the Cove,<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> to stray an' rove</div> +<div class="i2">Amang the rocks and streams</div> +<div class="i16">To sport that night;</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Amang the bonnie winding banks</div> +<div class="i2">Where Doon rins wimplin' clear, <span class="sidenote">winding</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Where Bruce<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> ance ruled the martial ranks <span class="sidenote">once</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' shook his Carrick spear,</div> +<div class="i0">Some merry friendly country-folks</div> +<div class="i2">Together did convene</div> +<div class="i0">To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks, <span class="sidenote">nuts, pull, stalks</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' haud their Halloween <span class="sidenote">keep</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Fu' blythe that night:</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The lasses feat, an cleanly neat, <span class="sidenote">trim</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Mair braw than when they're fine; <span class="sidenote">more handsome</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Their faces blythe fu' sweetly kythe <span class="sidenote">show</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Hearts leal, an' warm, an' kin': <span class="sidenote">loyal, kind</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs <span class="sidenote">love-knots</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Weel knotted on their garten, <span class="sidenote">garter</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Some unco blate, an' some wi' gabs <span class="sidenote">very shy, chatter</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Gar lasses' hearts gang startin' <span class="sidenote">Make</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Whyles fast at night. <span class="sidenote">Sometimes</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a> +<div class="i0">Then, first and foremost, thro' the kail,</div> +<div class="i2">Their stocks<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> maun a' be sought ance: <span class="sidenote">must, once</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They steek their een, an' grape an' wale <span class="sidenote">shut, eyes, grope, choose</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For muckle anes an' straught anes. <span class="sidenote">big ones, straight</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift, <span class="sidenote">foolish, lost the way</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' wander'd thro' the bow-kail, <span class="sidenote">cabbage</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' pou'd, for want o' better shift, <span class="sidenote">pulled, choice</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A runt was like a sow-tail, <span class="sidenote">stalk</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Sae bow'd, that night. <span class="sidenote">bent</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane, <span class="sidenote">earth</span> </div> +<div class="i2">They roar an' cry a' throu'ther; <span class="sidenote">pell-mell</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The very wee things toddlin' rin—<span class="sidenote">run</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' stocks out-owre their shouther; <span class="sidenote">over, shoulder</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' gif the custock's sweet or sour, <span class="sidenote">if, pith</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' joctelegs they taste them; <span class="sidenote">pocket-knives</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Syne coziely, aboon the door, <span class="sidenote">Then, above</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' cannie care they've plac'd them <span class="sidenote">cautious</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To lie that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The lasses staw frae 'mang them a' <span class="sidenote">stole</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To pou their stalks o' corn;<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></div> +<div class="i0">But Rab slips out, an' jinks about, <span class="sidenote">dodges</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Behint the muckle thorn:</div> +<div class="i0">He grippit Nelly hard an' fast;</div> +<div class="i2">Loud skirled a' the lasses; <span class="sidenote">squealed</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But her tap-pickle maist was lost, <span class="sidenote">almost</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When kiutlin' i' the fause-house<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> <span class="sidenote">cuddling</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' him that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The auld guidwife's well-hoordit nits<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> <span class="sidenote">well-hoarded nuts</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Are round an' round divided,</div> +<div class="i0">An' mony lads' an' lasses' fates</div> +<div class="i2">Are there that night decided:</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a>Some kindle, couthie, side by side, <span class="sidenote">comfortably</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' burn thegither trimly;</div> +<div class="i0">Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,</div> +<div class="i2">An' jump out-owre the chimlie <span class="sidenote">out of the chimney</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Fu' high that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Jean slips in twa, wi' tentie e'e; <span class="sidenote">watchful</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wha 'twas, she wadna tell;</div> +<div class="i0">But this is <i>Jock</i>, an' this is <i>me</i>,</div> +<div class="i2">She says in to hersel: <span class="sidenote">whispers</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He bleez'd owre her, an' she owre him, <span class="sidenote">blazed</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As they wad never mair part;</div> +<div class="i0">Till fuff! he started up the lum, <span class="sidenote">chimney</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' Jean had e'en a sair heart</div> +<div class="i16">To see't that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt, <span class="sidenote">cabbage stump</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie, <span class="sidenote">precise Molly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' Mary, nae doubt, took the drunt, <span class="sidenote">huff</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To be compar'd to Willie:</div> +<div class="i0">Mall's nit lap out, wi' pridefu' fling, <span class="sidenote">leapt, start</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' her ain fit it brunt it; <span class="sidenote">foot</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While Willie lap, an' swoor by jing, <span class="sidenote">by Jove</span> </div> +<div class="i2">'Twas just the way he wanted</div> +<div class="i16">To be that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Nell had the fause-house in her min', <span class="sidenote">mind</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She pits hersel an' Rob in;</div> +<div class="i0">In loving bleeze they sweetly join,</div> +<div class="i2">Till white in ase they're sobbin: <span class="sidenote">ashes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Nell's heart was dancin' at the view:</div> +<div class="i2">She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:</div> +<div class="i0">Rob, stownlins, prie'd her bonnie mou', <span class="sidenote">by stealth, tasted, mouth</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Fu' cozie in the neuk for't, <span class="sidenote">corner</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Unseen that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a> +<div class="i0">But Merran sat behint their backs, <span class="sidenote">Marian</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;</div> +<div class="i0">She lea'es them gashin' at their cracks, <span class="sidenote">leaves, gabbing, chat</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' slips out by hersel:</div> +<div class="i0">She thro' the yard the nearest taks, <span class="sidenote">nearest way</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' to the kiln she goes then,</div> +<div class="i0">An' darklins grapit for the bauks, <span class="sidenote">in the dark, groped, beams</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And in the blue-clue<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> throws then,</div> +<div class="i16">Right fear'd that night. <span class="sidenote">frightened</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An' aye she win't, an' aye she swat, <span class="sidenote">wounded, sweated</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I wat she made nae jaukin'; <span class="sidenote">know, trifling</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till something held within the pat, <span class="sidenote">kiln-pot</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Guid Lord! but she was quaukin'!</div> +<div class="i0">But whether 'twas the Deil himsel,</div> +<div class="i2">Or whether 'twas a bauk-en', <span class="sidenote">beam-end</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or whether it was Andrew Bell,</div> +<div class="i2">She did na wait on talkin</div> +<div class="i16">To spier that night. <span class="sidenote">ask</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wee Jenny to her grannie says,</div> +<div class="i2">‘Will ye go wi' me, grannie?</div> +<div class="i0">I'll eat the apple<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> at the glass,</div> +<div class="i2">I gat frae uncle Johnie:’</div> +<div class="i0">She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt, <span class="sidenote">puffed, smoke</span> </div> +<div class="i2">In wrath she was sae vap'rin,</div> +<div class="i0">She noticed na an aizle brunt <span class="sidenote">cinder burnt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Her braw new worset apron <span class="sidenote">worsted</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Out-thro' that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Ye little skelpie-limmer's face! <span class="sidenote">young hussy's</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I daur you try sic sportin', <span class="sidenote">dare</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As seek the foul Thief ony place, <span class="sidenote">Devil</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For him to spae your fortune! <span class="sidenote">tell</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a>Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!</div> +<div class="i2">Great cause ye hae to fear it;</div> +<div class="i0">For mony a ane has gotten a fright,</div> +<div class="i2">An' lived an' died deleerit, <span class="sidenote">delirious</span> </div> +<div class="i16">On sic a night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Ae hairst afore the Sherra-moor,—<span class="sidenote">One harvest, Sherriffmuir</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I mind't as weel's yestreen, <span class="sidenote">remember, last night</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I was a gilpey then, I'm sure <span class="sidenote">young girl</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I was na past fyfteen:</div> +<div class="i0">The simmer had been cauld an' wat,</div> +<div class="i2">An' stuff was unco green; <span class="sidenote">grain, extremely</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' aye a rantin' kirn we gat, <span class="sidenote">rollicking harvest-home</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' just on Halloween</div> +<div class="i16">It fell that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen, <span class="sidenote">chief harvester</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A clever, sturdy fallow;</div> +<div class="i0">His sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean, <span class="sidenote">son, child</span> </div> +<div class="i2">That liv'd in Achmacalla;</div> +<div class="i0">He gat hemp-seed,<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> I mind it weel,</div> +<div class="i2">An' he made unco light o't: <span class="sidenote">very</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But mony a day was by himsel, <span class="sidenote">beside himself</span> </div> +<div class="i2">He was sae sairly frighted <span class="sidenote">sorely</span> </div> +<div class="i16">That vera night.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck, <span class="sidenote">fighting</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' he swoor by his conscience</div> +<div class="i0">That he could saw hemp-seed a peck; <span class="sidenote">sow</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For it was a' but nonsense: <span class="sidenote">merely</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The auld guidman raught down the pock, <span class="sidenote">reached, bag</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' out a handfu' gied him; <span class="sidenote">gave</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Syne bad him slip frae 'mang the folk, <span class="sidenote">Then</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Sometime when nae ane see'd him, <span class="sidenote">saw</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' try't that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a> +<div class="i0">He marches thro' amang the stacks,</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' he was something sturtin'; <span class="sidenote">staggering</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The graip he for a harrow taks, <span class="sidenote">dung-fork</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' haurls at his curpin: <span class="sidenote">trails, back</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' ev'ry now an' then, he says,</div> +<div class="i2">‘Hemp-seed! I saw thee,</div> +<div class="i0">An' her that is to be my lass</div> +<div class="i2">Come after me an' draw thee</div> +<div class="i16">As fast this night.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He whistled up Lord Lennox' march,</div> +<div class="i2">To keep his courage cheery;</div> +<div class="i0">Altho' his hair began to arch,</div> +<div class="i2">He was sae fley'd an' eerie: <span class="sidenote">scared, awe-struck</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till presently he hears a squeak,</div> +<div class="i2">An' then a grane an' gruntle; <span class="sidenote">groan</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He by his shouther gae a keek, <span class="sidenote"><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original reads 'shoulder,'">shoulder</ins> gave, peep</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle <span class="sidenote">summersault</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Out-owre that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,</div> +<div class="i2">In dreadfu' desperation!</div> +<div class="i0">An' young an' auld come rinnin' out,</div> +<div class="i2">An' hear the sad narration:</div> +<div class="i0">He swoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw, <span class="sidenote">halting</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Or crouchie Merran Humphie, <span class="sidenote">hunchbacked Marian</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till stop! she trotted thro' them a';</div> +<div class="i2">An' wha was it but grumphie <span class="sidenote">the sow</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Asteer that night! <span class="sidenote">Astir</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Meg fain wad to the barn gane <span class="sidenote">have gone</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To winn three wechts o' naething;<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></div> +<div class="i0">But for to meet the Deil her lane, <span class="sidenote">alone</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She pat but little faith in: <span class="sidenote">put</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a>She gies the herd a pickle nits, <span class="sidenote">herd-boy, few</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And twa red-cheekit apples,</div> +<div class="i0">To watch, while for the barn she sets, <span class="sidenote">sets out</span> </div> +<div class="i2">In hopes to see Tam Kipples</div> +<div class="i16">That very night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">She turns the key wi' cannie thraw, <span class="sidenote">cautious twist</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' owre the threshold ventures;</div> +<div class="i0">But first on Sawnie gies a ca', <span class="sidenote">call</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Syne bauldly in she enters; <span class="sidenote">Then</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A ratton rattl'd up the wa', <span class="sidenote">rat</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' she cried ‘Lord preserve her!’</div> +<div class="i0">An' ran thro' midden-hole an' a', <span class="sidenote">dunghill pool</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' pray'd wi' zeal an' fervour</div> +<div class="i16">Fu' fast that night</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">They hoy't out Will, wi' sair advice; <span class="sidenote">urged</span> </div> +<div class="i2">They hecht him some fine braw ane; <span class="sidenote">promised</span> </div> +<div class="i0">It chanced the stack he faddom'd thrice<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> <span class="sidenote">measured with outstretched arms</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Was timmer-propt for thrawin': <span class="sidenote">against leaning over</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He taks a swirlie auld moss-oak <span class="sidenote">gnarled</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For some black gruesome carlin; <span class="sidenote">beldam</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' loot a winze, an' drew a stroke, <span class="sidenote">uttered a curse</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Till skin in blypes cam haurlin' <span class="sidenote">shreds, peeling</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Aff's nieves that night. <span class="sidenote">Off his fists</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A wanton widow Leezie was,</div> +<div class="i2">As cantie as a kittlin; <span class="sidenote">lively</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But och! that night, amang the shaws, <span class="sidenote">woods</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She gat a fearfu' settlin'!</div> +<div class="i0">She thro' the whins, an' by the cairn, <span class="sidenote">gorse, stone heap</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' owre the hill gaed scrievin'; <span class="sidenote">careering</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Where three laird's lands met at a burn,<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></div> +<div class="i2">To dip her left sark-sleeve in, <span class="sidenote">shirt-</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Was bent that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a> +<div class="i0">Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, <span class="sidenote">Waterfall</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As thro' the glen it wimpled; <span class="sidenote">wound</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays; <span class="sidenote">ledge</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Whyles in a wiel it dimpled; <span class="sidenote">eddy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;</div> +<div class="i0">Whyles cookit underneath the braes, <span class="sidenote">peeped</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Below the spreading hazel,</div> +<div class="i16">Unseen that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Amang the brackens on the brae, <span class="sidenote">ferns, hillside</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Between her an' the moon,</div> +<div class="i0">The Deil, or else an outler quey, <span class="sidenote">unhoused heifer</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Gat up an' gae a croon: <span class="sidenote">gave a low</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool; <span class="sidenote">almost leapt, sheath</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Near lav'rock height she jumpit, <span class="sidenote">lark high</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But miss'd a fit, an' in the pool <span class="sidenote">foot</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' a plunge that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In order, on the clean hearth-stane,</div> +<div class="i2">The luggies<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> three are ranged;</div> +<div class="i0">And every time great care is ta'en,</div> +<div class="i2">To see them duly changed:</div> +<div class="i0">Auld uncle John, wha wedlock's joys</div> +<div class="i2">Sin' Mar's year did desire, <span class="sidenote">1715 Rebellion</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Because he gat the toom dish thrice, <span class="sidenote">empty</span> </div> +<div class="i2">He heav'd them on the fire</div> +<div class="i16">In wrath that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wi' merry sangs, an' friendly cracks,</div> +<div class="i0">I wat they did na weary; <span class="sidenote">wot</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And unco tales, an' funny jokes,—<span class="sidenote">strange</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Their sports were cheap and cheery;</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a>Till butter'd sow'ns,<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> wi' fragrant lunt, <span class="sidenote">smoke</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Set a' their gabs a-steerin'; <span class="sidenote">tongues wagging</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt, <span class="sidenote">Then, liquor</span> </div> +<div class="i2">They parted aff careerin'</div> +<div class="i16">Fu' blythe that night.</div> +</div></div> + +<h4>FOOT-NOTES TO HALLOWEEN</h4> + +<p>[The foot-notes to this poem are those supplied by Burns himself in +the Kilmarnock edition.]</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span> </a> Is thought to be a night when witches, devils, and other +mischief-making beings, are all abroad on their baneful, midnight +errands: particularly, those aerial people, the fairies, are said, on +that night to hold a grand anniversary.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span> </a> Certain little, romantic, rocky, green hills, in the +neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of Cassilis.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span> </a> A noted cavern near Colean-house, called the Cove of +Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is famed in country story +for being a favourite haunt of fairies.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span> </a> The famous family of that name, the ancestors of Robert, +the great Deliverer of his country, were Earls of Carrick.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span> </a> The first ceremony of Halloween is pulling each a +<i>stock</i>, or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes +shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being big or little, +straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand +object of all their spells—the husband or wife. If any <i>yird</i>, or +earth, stick to the root, that is <i>tocher</i>, or fortune; and the taste +of the <i>custoc</i>, that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of the +natural temper and disposition. Lastly the stems, or to give them +their ordinary appellation, the <i>runts</i>, are placed somewhere above +the head of the door; and the Christian names of the people whom +chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of +placing the runts, the names in question.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span> </a> They go to the barn-yard, and pull each, at three several +times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the <i>top pickle</i>, +that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will +want the maidenhead.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span> </a> When the corn is in a doubtful state, by being too +green, or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old timber, etc., makes +a large apartment in his stack, with an opening in the side which is +fairest exposed to the wind: this he calls a <i>fause-house</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span> </a> Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the lad +and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire; and +according as they burn quickly together, or start from beside one +another, the course and issue of the courtship will be.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span> </a> Whoever would with success try this spell must strictly +observe<a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a> these directions. Steal out all alone to the kiln, and +darkling, throw into the pot, a clue of blue yarn: wind it in a new +clue off the old one; and towards the latter end, something will hold +the thread: demand, <i>wha hauds</i>? i.e., who holds? and answer will be +returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the Christian and surname of +your future spouse.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span> </a> Take a candle and go alone to a looking glass: eat an +apple before it, and some traditions say you should comb your hair all +the time; the face of your conjugal companion to be will be seen in +the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span> </a> Steal out; unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp seed; +harrowing it with anything you can conveniently draw after you. +Repeat, now and then, “Hemp seed, I saw [sow] thee, Hemp seed, I saw +thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true-love, come after me and +pou thee.” Look over your left shoulder, and you will see the +appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. +Some traditions say, “come after me and shaw thee,” that is, show +thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, +and say, “come after me and harrow thee.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span> </a> This charm must likewise be performed, unperceived and +alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors; taking them off the +hinges, if possible; for there is danger that the Being about to +appear may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that +instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country-dialect, +we call a wecht; and go thro' all the attitudes of letting down corn +against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time, an +apparition will pass thro' the barn, in at the windy door, and out at +the other, having both the figure in question and the appearance or +retinue, marking the employment or station in life.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span> </a> Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a +bear-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the +last time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your conjugal +yoke-fellow.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span> </a> You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to +a south-running spring or rivulet, where “three lairds' lands meet,” +and dip your left shirt sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang +your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake, and sometime near +midnight, an apparition having the exact figure of the grand object in +question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side +of it.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span> </a> Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in +another; and leave the third empty: blindfold a person, and lead him +to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left +hand: if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will +come to the bar of matrimony, a maid: if in the foul, a widow; if in +the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at +all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the +dishes is altered.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span> </a> Sowens, with butter instead of milk to them, is always +the Halloween supper.</p></div> +<p><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a> +In <i><a href="#THE_TWA_DOGS">The Twa Dogs</a></i> we have an entirely different method. Burns here +gives expression to his social philosophy in a contrast between rich +and poor, and adds a quaint humor to his criticism by placing it in +the mouths of the laird's Newfoundland and the cotter's collie. The +dogs themselves are delightfully and vividly characterized, and their +comments have a detachment that frees the satire from acerbity without +rendering it tame. The account of the life of the idle rich may be +that of a somewhat remote observer; it has still value as a record of +how the peasant views the proprietor. But that of the hard-working +farmer lacks no touch of actuality, and is part of the reverse side of +the shield shown in <i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday Night</a></i>. Yet the tone is not +querulous, but echoes rather the quiet conviction that if toil is hard +it has its own sweetness, and that honest fatigue is better than +boredom.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_TWA_DOGS" id="THE_TWA_DOGS"></a>THE TWA DOGS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">'Twas in that place o' Scotland's Isle,</div> +<div class="i0">That bears the name o' auld King Coil,</div> +<div class="i0">Upon a bonnie day in June,</div> +<div class="i0">When wearin' through the afternoon,</div> +<div class="i0">Twa dogs, that werena thrang at hame, <span class="sidenote">busy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Forgather'd ance upon a time. <span class="sidenote">Met</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a> +<div class="i2">The first I'll name, they ca'd him Caesar,</div> +<div class="i0">Was keepit for his Honour's pleasure;</div> +<div class="i0">His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs, <span class="sidenote">ears</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Show'd he was nane o' Scotland's dogs,</div> +<div class="i0">But whalpit some place far abroad, <span class="sidenote">whelped</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Where sailors gang to fish for cod.</div> +<div class="i0">His locked, letter'd, braw brass collar,</div> +<div class="i0">Shew'd him the gentleman and scholar;</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But though he was o' high degree,</div> +<div class="i0">The fient a pride, nae pride had he; <span class="sidenote">devil</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But wad hae spent are hour caressin'</div> +<div class="i0">E'en wi' a tinkler-gipsy's messan: <span class="sidenote">mongrel</span> </div> +<div class="i0">At kirk or market, mill or smiddie, <span class="sidenote">smithy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Nae tawted tyke, though e'er sae duddie, <span class="sidenote">matted cur, ragged</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But he wad stand as glad to see him,</div> +<div class="i0">An' stroan'd on stanes an' hillocks wi' him. <span class="sidenote">lanted</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">The tither was a ploughman's collie, <span class="sidenote">other</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A rhyming, ranting, raving billie; <span class="sidenote">fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha for his friend and comrade had him,</div> +<div class="i0">And in his freaks had Luath ca'd him,</div> +<div class="i0">After some dog in Highland sang,</div> +<div class="i0">Was made lang syne—Lord knows how lang.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">He was a gash an' faithfu' tyke, <span class="sidenote">wise, dog</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As ever lap a sheugh or dyke; <span class="sidenote">leapt, ditch, wall</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His honest sonsie, bawsent face <span class="sidenote">pleasant, white-marked</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Aye gat him friends in ilka place, <span class="sidenote">every</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His breast was white, his tousie back <span class="sidenote">shaggy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black:</div> +<div class="i0">His gawsie tail, wi' upward curl, <span class="sidenote">joyous</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Hung o'er his hurdles wi' a swirl. <span class="sidenote">buttocks</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a> +<div class="i2">Nae doubt but they were fain o' ither, <span class="sidenote">glad</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And unco pack and thick thegither; <span class="sidenote">intimate</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' social nose whyles snuff'd and snowkit;</div> +<div class="i0">Whyles mice and moudieworts they howkit; <span class="sidenote">moles, dug</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whyles scour'd awa in lang excursion,</div> +<div class="i0">And worried ither in diversion;</div> +<div class="i0">Until wi' daffin' weary grown, <span class="sidenote">merriment</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Upon a knowe they sat them down, <span class="sidenote">knoll</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And there began a lang digression</div> +<div class="i0">About the lords of the creation.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i12"><span class="smcap">caesar</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I've aften wonder'd, honest Luath,</div> +<div class="i0">What sort o' life poor dogs like you have;</div> +<div class="i0">An' when the gentry's life I saw,</div> +<div class="i0">What way poor bodies liv'd ava. <span class="sidenote">at all</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Our Laird gets in his racked rents,</div> +<div class="i0">His coals, his kain, and a' his stents; <span class="sidenote">rent in kind, dues</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He rises when he likes himsel';</div> +<div class="i0">His flunkies answer at the bell:</div> +<div class="i0">He ca's his coach; he ca's his horse; <span class="sidenote">calls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He draws a bonny silken purse</div> +<div class="i0">As lang's my tail, where, through the steeks, <span class="sidenote">stitches</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The yellow-letter'd Geordie keeks. <span class="sidenote">guinea peeps</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Frae morn to e'en it's nought but toiling</div> +<div class="i0">At baking, roasting, frying, boiling;</div> +<div class="i0">And though the gentry first are stechin', <span class="sidenote">cramming</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Yet e'en the ha' folk fill their pechan <span class="sidenote">servants, belly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' sauce, ragouts, and sic like trashtrie, <span class="sidenote">rubbish</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That's little short o' downright wastrie. <span class="sidenote">waste</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Our whipper-in, wee blastit wonner! <span class="sidenote">wonder</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Poor worthless elf! it eats a dinner</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a>Better than ony tenant man</div> +<div class="i0">His Honour has in a' the lan';</div> +<div class="i0">An' what poor cot-folk pit their painch in, <span class="sidenote">put, paunch</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I own it's past my comprehension.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i12"><span class="smcap">luath</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Trowth, Caesar, whyles they're fash'd eneugh; <span class="sidenote">troubled</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A cottar howkin' in a sheugh, <span class="sidenote">digging, ditch</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' dirty stanes biggin' a dyke, <span class="sidenote">building, wall</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Baring a quarry, and sic like; <span class="sidenote">clearing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Himsel', a wife, he thus sustains,</div> +<div class="i0">A smytrie o' wee duddy weans, <span class="sidenote">brood, ragged children</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And nought but his han'-darg to keep <span class="sidenote">hand-labor</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Them right and tight in thack and rape. <span class="sidenote">thatch, rope</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And when they meet wi' sair disasters, <span class="sidenote">sore</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Like loss o' health, or want o' masters,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye maist wad think, a wee touch langer <span class="sidenote">almost</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And they maun starve o' cauld and hunger; <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But how it comes I never kent yet. <span class="sidenote">knew</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They're maistly wonderfu' contented;</div> +<div class="i0">An' buirdly chiels and clever hizzies <span class="sidenote">stout lads, girls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Are bred in sic a way as this is.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i12"><span class="smcap">caesar</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But then, to see how ye're negleckit,</div> +<div class="i0">How huff'd, and cuff'd, and disrespeckit,</div> +<div class="i0">Lord, man! our gentry care sae little</div> +<div class="i0">For delvers, ditchers and sic cattle;</div> +<div class="i0">They gang as saucy by poor folk</div> +<div class="i0">As I wad by a stinking brock. <span class="sidenote">badger</span> </div> +<div class="i2">I've noticed, on our Laird's court-day,</div> +<div class="i0">An' mony a time my heart's been wae.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a>Poor tenant bodies, scant o' cash,</div> +<div class="i0">How they maun thole a factor's snash; <span class="sidenote">endure, abuse</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He'll stamp and threaten, curse and swear,</div> +<div class="i0">He'll apprehend them; poind their gear: <span class="sidenote">seize, property</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble, <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' hear it a', an' fear an' tremble!</div> +<div class="i0">I see how folk live that hae riches;</div> +<div class="i0">But surely poor folk maun be wretches!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i12"><span class="smcap">luath</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">They're no' sae wretched's ane wad think,</div> +<div class="i0">Though constantly on poortith's brink: <span class="sidenote">poverty's</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They're sae accustom'd wi' the sight,</div> +<div class="i0">The view o't gi'es them little fright.</div> +<div class="i2">Then chance and fortune are sae guided,</div> +<div class="i0">They're aye in less or mair provided;</div> +<div class="i0">An' though fatigued wi' close employment,</div> +<div class="i0">A blink o' rest's a sweet enjoyment.</div> +<div class="i2">The dearest comfort o' their lives,</div> +<div class="i0">Their grushie weans an' faithfu' wives; <span class="sidenote">growing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The prattling things are just their pride,</div> +<div class="i0">That sweetens a' their fireside.</div> +<div class="i2">And whyles twalpenny-worth o' nappy <span class="sidenote">quart of ale</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Can mak the bodies unco happy; <span class="sidenote">wonderfully</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They lay aside their private cares</div> +<div class="i0">To mind the Kirk and State affairs:</div> +<div class="i0">They'll talk o' patronage and priests,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' kindling fury in their breasts;</div> +<div class="i0">Or tell what new taxation's comin',</div> +<div class="i0">And ferlie at the folk in Lon'on. <span class="sidenote">wonder</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As bleak-faced Hallowmas returns</div> +<div class="i0">They get the jovial rantin' kirns, <span class="sidenote">harvest-homes</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a>When rural life o' every station.</div> +<div class="i0">Unite in common recreation;</div> +<div class="i0">Love blinks, Wit slaps, and social Mirth</div> +<div class="i0">Forgets there's Care upo' the earth.</div> +<div class="i2">That merry day the year begins</div> +<div class="i0">They bar the door on frosty win's;</div> +<div class="i0">The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream <span class="sidenote">ale, foam</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And sheds a heart-inspiring steam;</div> +<div class="i0">The luntin' pipe and sneeshin'-mill <span class="sidenote">smoking, snuff-box</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Are handed round wi' right gude-will;</div> +<div class="i0">The canty auld folk crackin' crouse, <span class="sidenote">cheerful, talking brightly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The young anes ranting through the house—</div> +<div class="i0">My heart has been sae fain to see them</div> +<div class="i0">That I for joy hae barkit wi' them.</div> +<div class="i2">Still it's owre true that ye hae said,</div> +<div class="i0">Sic game is now owre aften play'd. <span class="sidenote">too often</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There's mony a creditable stock</div> +<div class="i0">O' decent, honest, fawsont folk, <span class="sidenote">well-doing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Are riven out baith root and branch</div> +<div class="i0">Some rascal's pridefu' greed to quench,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha thinks to knit himsel the faster</div> +<div class="i0">In favour wi' some gentle master,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha, aiblins, thrang a-parliamentin', <span class="sidenote">perhaps, busy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For Britain's gude his soul indentin—<span class="sidenote">indenturing</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i12"><span class="smcap">caesar</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Haith, lad, ye little ken about it;</div> +<div class="i0">For Britain's gude!—guid faith! I doubt it!</div> +<div class="i0">Say rather, gaun as Premiers lead him, <span class="sidenote">going</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And saying ay or no's they bid him!</div> +<div class="i0">At operas and plays parading,</div> +<div class="i0">Mortgaging, gambling, masquerading.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a>Or maybe, in a frolic daft,</div> +<div class="i0">To Hague or Calais taks a waft,</div> +<div class="i0">To make a tour, an' tak a whirl,</div> +<div class="i0">To learn <i>bon ton</i> an' see the worl'.</div> +<div class="i2">There, at Vienna, or Versailles,</div> +<div class="i0">He rives his father's auld entails; <span class="sidenote">splits</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or by Madrid he takes the rout,</div> +<div class="i0">To thrum guitars and fecht wi' nowt; <span class="sidenote">fight with bulls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or down Italian vista startles, <span class="sidenote">courses</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whore-hunting amang groves o' myrtles;</div> +<div class="i0">Then bouses drumly German water, <span class="sidenote">muddy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To make himsel' look fair and fatter,</div> +<div class="i0">And clear the consequential sorrows,</div> +<div class="i0">Love-gifts of Carnival signoras.</div> +<div class="i0">For Britain's gude!—for her destruction!</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' dissipation, feud, and faction!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i12"><span class="smcap">luath</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Hech man! dear sirs! is that the gate <span class="sidenote">way</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They waste sae mony a braw estate?</div> +<div class="i0">Are we sae foughten and harass'd <span class="sidenote">troubled</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For gear to gang that gate at last? <span class="sidenote">money, go, way</span> </div> +<div class="i2">O would they stay aback frae courts,</div> +<div class="i0">An' please themselves wi' country sports,</div> +<div class="i0">It wad for every ane be better,</div> +<div class="i0">The laird, the tenant, an' the cotter!</div> +<div class="i0">For thae frank, rantin', ramblin' billies, <span class="sidenote">those</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Fient haet o' them's ill-hearted fellows: <span class="sidenote">Devil a bit</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Except for breakin' o' their timmer, <span class="sidenote">wasting, timber</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or speaking lightly o' their limmer, <span class="sidenote">mistress</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or shootin' o' a hare or moor-cock,</div> +<div class="i0">The ne'er-a-bit they're ill to poor folk.</div> +<div class="i2"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a>But will ye tell me, Master Caesar?</div> +<div class="i0">Sure great folk's life's a life o' pleasure;</div> +<div class="i0">Nae cauld nor hunger o'er can steer them. <span class="sidenote">touch</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The very thought o't needna fear them.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i12"><span class="smcap">caesar</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lord, man, were ye but whyles where I am, <span class="sidenote">sometimes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The gentles ye wad ne'er envy 'em,</div> +<div class="i2">It's true, they needna starve or sweat,</div> +<div class="i0">Thro' winter's cauld or simmer's heat;</div> +<div class="i0">They've nae sair wark to craze their banes. <span class="sidenote">hard</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' fill auld age wi' grips an' granes: <span class="sidenote">gripes, groans</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But human bodies are sic fools.</div> +<div class="i0">For a' their colleges and schools,</div> +<div class="i0">That when nae real ills perplex them,</div> +<div class="i0">They make enow themselves to vex them,</div> +<div class="i0">An' aye the less they hae to sturt them, <span class="sidenote">fret</span> </div> +<div class="i0">In like proportion less will hurt them.</div> +<div class="i0">A country fellow at the pleugh,</div> +<div class="i0">His acres till'd, he's right eneugh;</div> +<div class="i0">A country lassie at her wheel,</div> +<div class="i0">Her dizzens done, she's unco weel; <span class="sidenote">dozens</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But gentlemen, an' ladies warst,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' ev'ndown want o' wark are curst, <span class="sidenote">positive</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They loiter, lounging, lank, and lazy;</div> +<div class="i0">Though de'il haet ails them, yet uneasy; <span class="sidenote">devil a bit</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Their days insipid, dull, and tasteless;</div> +<div class="i0">Their nights unquiet, lang, and restless.</div> +<div class="i0">And e'en their sports, their balls, and races,</div> +<div class="i0">Their galloping through public places;</div> +<div class="i0">There's sic parade, sic pomp and art,</div> +<div class="i0">The joy can scarcely reach the heart.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a>The men cast out in party matches, <span class="sidenote">quarrel</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Then sowther a' in deep debauches: <span class="sidenote">solder</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ae night they're mad wi' drink and whoring, <span class="sidenote">One</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Neist day their life is past enduring. <span class="sidenote">Next</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The ladies arm-in-arm, in clusters,</div> +<div class="i0">As great and gracious a' as sisters;</div> +<div class="i0">But hear their absent thoughts o' ither,</div> +<div class="i0">They're a' run de'ils and jades thegither. <span class="sidenote">downright</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whyles, owre the wee bit cup and platie,</div> +<div class="i0">They sip the scandal-potion pretty;</div> +<div class="i0">Or lee-lang nights, wi' crabbit leuks, <span class="sidenote">live-long, crabbed looks</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Pore owre the devil's picture beuks; <span class="sidenote">playing-cards</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Stake on a chance a farmer's stack-yard,</div> +<div class="i0">And cheat like ony unhang'd blackguard.</div> +<div class="i2">There's some exception, man and woman;</div> +<div class="i0">But this is gentry's life in common.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">By this the sun was out o' sight,</div> +<div class="i0">And darker gloamin' brought the night; <span class="sidenote">twilight</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The bum-clock humm'd wi' lazy drone, <span class="sidenote">cockchafer</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The kye stood rowtin' i' the loan; <span class="sidenote">cattle, lowing, lane</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When up they gat and shook their lugs, <span class="sidenote">ears</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Rejoiced they werena men but dogs;</div> +<div class="i0">And each took aff his several way,</div> +<div class="i0">Resolved to meet some ither day.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>The satirical tendency becomes more evident in <i><a href="#THE_HOLY_FAIR">The Holy Fair</a></i>. The +personifications whom the poet meets on the way to the religious orgy +are Superstition, Hypocrisy, and Fun, and symbolize exactly the +elements in his treatment—two-thirds satire and one-third humorous +sympathy.<a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a> The handling of the preachers is in the manner we have +already observed in the other ecclesiastical satires, but there is +less animus and more vividness. Nothing could be more admirable in its +way than the realism of the picture of the congregation, whether at +the sermons or at their refreshments; and, as in <i><a href="#HALLOWEEN">Halloween</a></i>, the +union of the particular and the universal appears in the essential +applicability of the psychology to an American camp-meeting as well as +to a Scottish sacrament—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There's some are fou o' love divine,</div> +<div class="i0">There's some are fou o' brandy.</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">—not to finish the stanza!</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_HOLY_FAIR" id="THE_HOLY_FAIR"></a>THE HOLY FAIR</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>A robe of seeming truth and trust</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>Hid crafty Observation;</i></div> +<div class="i0"><i>And secret hung, with poison'd crust,</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>The dirk of Defamation:</i></div> +<div class="i0"><i>A mask that like the gorget show'd,</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>Dye-varying on the pigeon;</i></div> +<div class="i0"><i>And for a mantle large and broad,</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>He wrapt him in religion.</i></div> +<p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">Hypocrisy a la Mode.</span></p></div> +<div class="stanza"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a> +<div class="i0">Upon a simmer Sunday morn,</div> +<div class="i2">When Nature's face is fair,</div> +<div class="i0">I walked forth to view the corn,</div> +<div class="i2">An' snuff the caller air. <span class="sidenote">fresh</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The risin' sun, owre Galston muirs,</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' glorious light was glintin';</div> +<div class="i0">The hares were hirplin' down the furrs, <span class="sidenote">limping, furrows</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The lav'rocks they were chantin' <span class="sidenote">larks</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Fu' sweet that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">As lightsomely I glowr'd abroad, <span class="sidenote">stared</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To see a scene sae gay,</div> +<div class="i0">Three hizzies, early at the road, <span class="sidenote">girls</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Cam skelpin' up the way. <span class="sidenote">scudding</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Twa had manteeles o' dolefu' black,</div> +<div class="i2">But ane wi' lyart lining; <span class="sidenote">gray</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The third, that gaed a wee a-back, <span class="sidenote">went a little</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Was in the fashion shining</div> +<div class="i16">Fu' gay that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The twa appeared like sisters twin,</div> +<div class="i2">In feature, form, an' claes;</div> +<div class="i0">Their visage wither'd, lang an' thin,</div> +<div class="i2">An' sour as ony slaes: <span class="sidenote">sloes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The third cam up, hap-stap-an'-lowp, <span class="sidenote">hop-step-and-jump</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As light as ony lambie,</div> +<div class="i0">An' wi' a curchie low did stoop, <span class="sidenote">curtsey</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As soon as e'er she saw me,</div> +<div class="i16">Fu' kind that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wi' bonnet aff, quoth I, ‘Sweet lass,</div> +<div class="i2">I think ye seem to ken me;</div> +<div class="i0">I'm sure I've seen that bonnie face,</div> +<div class="i2">But yet I canna name ye.’</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a>Quo' she, an' laughin' as she spak,</div> +<div class="i2">An' taks me by the hands,</div> +<div class="i0">‘Ye, for my sake, hae gi'en the feck <span class="sidenote">most</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Of a' the ten commands</div> +<div class="i16">A screed some day. <span class="sidenote">rent</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘My name is Fun—your crony dear,</div> +<div class="i2">The nearest friend ye hae;</div> +<div class="i0">An' this is Superstition here,</div> +<div class="i2">An' that's Hypocrisy.</div> +<div class="i0">I'm gaun to Mauchline Holy Fair,</div> +<div class="i2">To spend an hour in daffin'; <span class="sidenote">mirth</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Gin ye'll go there, yon runkled pair,</div> +<div class="i2">We will get famous laughin'</div> +<div class="i16">At them this day.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Quoth I, ‘Wi' a' my heart, I'll do't;</div> +<div class="i2">I'll get my Sunday's sark on, <span class="sidenote">shirt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' meet you on the holy spot;</div> +<div class="i2">Faith, we'se hae fine remarkin'!’</div> +<div class="i0">Then I gaed hame at crowdie-time, <span class="sidenote">porridge</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' soon I made me ready;</div> +<div class="i0">For roads were clad, frae side to side,</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' mony a wearie bodie</div> +<div class="i16">In droves that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here farmers gash in ridin' graith <span class="sidenote">complacent, attire</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Gaed hoddin' by their cotters; <span class="sidenote">jogging</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There swankies young in braw braid-claith <span class="sidenote">strapping youngsters</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Are springin' owre the gutters. <span class="sidenote">over</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The lasses, skelpin' barefit, thrang, <span class="sidenote">padding, in crowds</span> </div> +<div class="i2">In silks an' scarlets glitter,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' sweet-milk cheese, in mony a whang, <span class="sidenote">slice</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' farls bak'd wi' butter, <span class="sidenote">cakes</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Fu' crump that day. <span class="sidenote">crisp</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a> +<div class="i0">When by the plate we set our nose,</div> +<div class="i2">Weel heaped up wi' ha'pence,</div> +<div class="i0">A greedy glow'r Black Bonnet throws, <span class="sidenote">the elder</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' we maun draw our tippence.</div> +<div class="i0">Then in we go to see the show:</div> +<div class="i2">On ev'ry side they're gath'rin';</div> +<div class="i0">Some carryin' deals, some chairs an' stools, <span class="sidenote">planks</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' some are busy bleth'rin' <span class="sidenote">gabbling</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Right loud that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here stands a shed to fend the show'rs, <span class="sidenote">keep off</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' screen our country gentry;</div> +<div class="i0">There racer Jess an' twa-three whores</div> +<div class="i2">Are blinkin' at the entry.</div> +<div class="i0">Here sits a raw o' tittlin' jades, <span class="sidenote">whispering</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' heavin' breasts an' bare neck,</div> +<div class="i0">An' there a batch o' wabster lads, <span class="sidenote">weaver</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Blackguardin' frae Kilmarnock</div> +<div class="i16">For fun this day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here some are thinkin' on their sins,</div> +<div class="i2">An' some upo' their claes; <span class="sidenote">clothes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ane curses feet that fyl'd his shins, <span class="sidenote">soiled</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Anither sighs an' prays:</div> +<div class="i0">On this hand sits a chosen swatch, <span class="sidenote">sample</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' screw'd up, grace-proud faces;</div> +<div class="i0">On that a set o' chaps, at watch,</div> +<div class="i2">Thrang winkin' on the lasses <span class="sidenote">Busy</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To chairs that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O happy is that man an' blest!</div> +<div class="i2">Nae wonder that it pride him!</div> +<div class="i0">Whase ain dear lass, that he likes best,</div> +<div class="i2">Comes clinkin' down beside him! <span class="sidenote">Sits snugly</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a>Wi' arm repos'd on the chair-back</div> +<div class="i2">He sweetly does compose him;</div> +<div class="i0">Which, by degrees, slips round her neck,</div> +<div class="i2">An's loof upon her bosom, <span class="sidenote">And his palm</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Unkenn'd that day. <span class="sidenote">Unacknowledged</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now a' the congregation o'er</div> +<div class="i2">Is silent expectation;</div> +<div class="i0">For Moodie speels the holy door, <span class="sidenote">climbs to</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' tidings o' damnation,</div> +<div class="i0">Should Hornie, as in ancient days, <span class="sidenote">Satan</span> </div> +<div class="i2">'Mang sons o' God present him,</div> +<div class="i0">The very sight o' Moodie's face</div> +<div class="i2">To's ain het hame had sent him <span class="sidenote">his own hot</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' fright that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Hear how he clears the points o' faith</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' rattlin' an' wi' thumpin'!</div> +<div class="i0">Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,</div> +<div class="i2">He's stampin' an' he's jumpin'!</div> +<div class="i0">His lengthen'd chin, his turned-up snout,</div> +<div class="i2">His eldritch squeal an' gestures, <span class="sidenote">weird</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O how they fire the heart devout,</div> +<div class="i2">Like cantharidian plaisters,</div> +<div class="i16">On sic a day! <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But, hark! the tent has chang'd its voice;</div> +<div class="i2">There's peace an' rest nae langer;</div> +<div class="i0">For a' the real judges rise,</div> +<div class="i2">They canna sit for anger.</div> +<div class="i0">Smith opens out his cauld harangues, <span class="sidenote">A New Light</span> </div> +<div class="i2">On practice and on morals;</div> +<div class="i0">An' aff the godly pour in thrangs</div> +<div class="i2">To gie the jars an' barrels <span class="sidenote">give</span> </div> +<div class="i16">A lift that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a> +<div class="i0">What signifies his barren shine</div> +<div class="i2">Of moral pow'rs an' reason?</div> +<div class="i0">His English style an' gesture fine</div> +<div class="i2">Are a' clean out o' season.</div> +<div class="i0">Like Socrates or Antonine,</div> +<div class="i2">Or some auld pagan Heathen,</div> +<div class="i0">The moral man he does define,</div> +<div class="i2">But ne'er a word o' faith in</div> +<div class="i16">That's right that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In guid time comes an antidote</div> +<div class="i2">Against sic poison'd nostrum;</div> +<div class="i0">For Peebles, frae the water-fit, <span class="sidenote">river-mouth</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Ascends the holy rostrum:</div> +<div class="i0">See, up he's got the word o' God,</div> +<div class="i2">An' meek an' mim has view'd it, <span class="sidenote">prim</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While Common Sense<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> has ta'en the road,</div> +<div class="i2">An' aff, an' up the Cowgate</div> +<div class="i16">Fast, fast, that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wee Miller, neist, the Guard relieves, <span class="sidenote">next</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' Orthodoxy raibles, <span class="sidenote">rattles by rote</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tho' in his heart he weel believes</div> +<div class="i2">An' thinks it auld wives' fables:</div> +<div class="i0">But, faith! the birkie wants a Manse, <span class="sidenote">fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i2">So cannilie he hums them; <span class="sidenote">prudently, humbugs</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Altho' his carnal wit an' sense</div> +<div class="i2">Like hafflins-wise o'ercomes him <span class="sidenote">nearly half</span> </div> +<div class="i16">At times that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now, butt an' ben, the Change-house fills, <span class="sidenote">outer and inner rooms</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' yill-caup Commentators; <span class="sidenote">ale-cup</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Here's crying out for bakes an' gills, <span class="sidenote">rolls</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' there the pint-stowp clatters;</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a>While thick an' thrang, an' loud an' lang, <span class="sidenote">busy</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Wi' logic, an' wi' Scripture,</div> +<div class="i0">They raise a din, that in the end</div> +<div class="i2">Is like to breed a rupture</div> +<div class="i16">O' wrath that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Leeze me on drink! it gi'es us mair <span class="sidenote">blessings on</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Than either school or college;</div> +<div class="i0">It kindles wit, it waukens lair, <span class="sidenote">learning</span> </div> +<div class="i2">It pangs us fou o' knowledge. <span class="sidenote">crams full</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Be't whisky gill, or penny wheep, <span class="sidenote">small beer</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Or ony stronger potion,</div> +<div class="i0">It never fails, on drinkin' deep,</div> +<div class="i2">To kittle up our notion <span class="sidenote">tickle</span> </div> +<div class="i16">By night or day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The lads an' lasses, blythely bent</div> +<div class="i2">To mind baith saul an' body,</div> +<div class="i0">Sit round the table, weel content,</div> +<div class="i2">An' steer about the toddy. <span class="sidenote">stir</span> </div> +<div class="i0">On this ane's dress, an' that ane's leuk, <span class="sidenote">look</span> </div> +<div class="i2">They're makin observations;</div> +<div class="i0">While some are cosy i' the neuk, <span class="sidenote">corner</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' formin' assignations</div> +<div class="i16">To meet some day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But now the Lord's ain trumpet touts, <span class="sidenote">sounds</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Till a' the hills are rairin', <span class="sidenote">roaring</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' echoes back return the shouts;</div> +<div class="i2">Black Russel is na sparin';</div> +<div class="i0">His piercing words, like Highlan' swords,</div> +<div class="i2">Divide the joints an' marrow;</div> +<div class="i0">His talk o' Hell, where devils dwell,</div> +<div class="i2">Our very ‘sauls does harrow’</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' fright that day!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a> +<div class="i0">A vast, unbottom'd, boundless pit,</div> +<div class="i2">Fill'd fou o' lowin' brunstane, <span class="sidenote">full, flaming brimstone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whase ragin' flame, an' scorchin' heat,</div> +<div class="i2">Wad melt the hardest whun-stane!</div> +<div class="i0">The half-asleep start up wi' fear</div> +<div class="i2">An' think they hear it roarin'</div> +<div class="i0">When presently it does appear</div> +<div class="i2">'Twas but some neebor snorin'</div> +<div class="i16">Asleep that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">'Twad be owre lang a tale to tell</div> +<div class="i2">How mony stories past,</div> +<div class="i0">An' how they crowded to the yill, <span class="sidenote">ale</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When they were a' dismist;</div> +<div class="i0">How drink gaed round, in cogs an' caups, <span class="sidenote">wooden drinking vessels</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Amang the furms and benches;</div> +<div class="i0">An' cheese an' bread, frae women's laps,</div> +<div class="i2">Was dealt about in lunches, <span class="sidenote">full portions</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' dawds that day. <span class="sidenote">lumps</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In comes a gawsie, gash guidwife, <span class="sidenote">jolly, sensible</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' sits down by the fire,</div> +<div class="i0">Syne draws her kebbuck an' her knife; <span class="sidenote">Then, cheese</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The lasses they are shyer.</div> +<div class="i0">The auld guidmen, about the grace,</div> +<div class="i2">Frae side to side they bother,</div> +<div class="i0">Till some are by his bonnet lays,</div> +<div class="i2">An' gi'es them't like a tether, <span class="sidenote">rope</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Fu' lang that day.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Waesucks! for him that gets nae lass, <span class="sidenote">Alas!</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Or lasses that hae naething!</div> +<div class="i0">Sma' need has he to say a grace,</div> +<div class="i2">Or melvie his braw claithing! <span class="sidenote">make dusty</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a>O wives, be mindful, ance yoursel</div> +<div class="i2">How bonnie lads ye wanted,</div> +<div class="i0">An' dinna for a kebbuck-heel</div> +<div class="i2">Let lasses be affronted</div> +<div class="i16">On sic a day! <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now Clinkumbell, wi' rattlin' tow, <span class="sidenote">Bell-ringer, rope</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Begins to jow an' croon; <span class="sidenote">swing, toll</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Some swagger hame the best they dow, <span class="sidenote">can</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Some wait the afternoon.</div> +<div class="i0">At slaps the billies halt a blink, <span class="sidenote">gaps, kids</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Till lasses strip their shoon;</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' faith an' hope, an' love an' drink, <span class="sidenote">shoes</span> </div> +<div class="i2">They're a' in famous tune</div> +<div class="i16">For crack that day. <span class="sidenote">chat</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How mony hearts this day converts</div> +<div class="i2">O' sinners and o' lasses!</div> +<div class="i0">Their hearts o' static, gin night, are gane <span class="sidenote">before</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As saft as ony flesh is.</div> +<div class="i0">There's some are fou o' love divine,</div> +<div class="i2">There's some are fou o' brandy;</div> +<div class="i0">An' mony jobs that day begin,</div> +<div class="i2">May end in houghmagandie <span class="sidenote">fornication</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Some ither day.</div> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span> </a> The rationalism of the New Lights.</p></div> + +<p>It must be admitted that, as we pass from poem to poem, Scottish +manners are becoming freer, Scottish drink is more potent, Scottish +religion is no longer pure and undefiled. Yet the poet<a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a> hardly seems +to be at a disadvantage. He certainly is no less interesting; he +impresses our imaginations and rouses our sympathetic understanding as +keenly as ever; there is no abatement of our esthetic relish.</p> + +<p>We have seen the Ayrshire peasant alone with his family, at social +gatherings, and at church. We have to see him with his cronies and at +the tavern. Scotch manners and Scotch religion we know now; it is the +turn of Scotch drink. The spirit of that conviviality which was one of +Burns's ruling passions, and which in his class helped to color the +grayness of daily hardship, was rendered by him in verse again and +again: never more triumphantly than in the greatest of his +bacchanalian songs, <i><a href="#WILLIE_BREWD_A_PECK_O_MAUT">Willie Brew'd a Peck o' Maut</a></i>. Indeed it would be +hard to find anywhere in our literature a more revealing utterance of +those effects of alcohol that are not discussed in scientific +literature—the joyous exhilaration, the conviction of (comparative) +sobriety, the temporary intensification of the feeling of good +fellowship. The challenge to the moon is unsurpassable in its +unconscious humor. Yet Arnold thought the world of Scotch drink +unbeautiful.</p> +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a><a name="WILLIE_BREWD_A_PECK_O_MAUT" id="WILLIE_BREWD_A_PECK_O_MAUT"></a>WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, <span class="sidenote">malt</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And Rob and Allan cam to see;</div> +<div class="i0">Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night, <span class="sidenote">live-long</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Ye wad na found in Christendie. <span class="sidenote">would not have, Christendom</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">We are na fou', we're nae that fou, <span class="sidenote">drunk</span> </div> +<div class="i6">But just a drappie in our e'e; <span class="sidenote">droplet</span> </div> +<div class="i4">The cock may craw, the day may daw, <span class="sidenote">crow, dawn</span> </div> +<div class="i6">And aye we'll taste the barley-bree. <span class="sidenote">brew</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here are we met, three merry boys,</div> +<div class="i2">Three merry boys, I trow, are we;</div> +<div class="i0">And mony a night we've merry been,</div> +<div class="i2">And mony mae we hope to be! <span class="sidenote">more</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It is the moon, I ken her horn,</div> +<div class="i2">That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie; <span class="sidenote">shining, sky, high</span> </div> +<div class="i0">She shines sae bright to wyle us hame, <span class="sidenote">entice</span> </div> +<div class="i2">But, by my sooth! she'll wait a wee.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wha first shall rise to gang awa, <span class="sidenote">go</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A cuckold, coward loun is he! <span class="sidenote">rascal</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha first beside his chair shall fa',</div> +<div class="i2">He is the King amang us three!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>With greater daring and on a broader canvas Burns has dealt with the +same subject in <i><a href="#THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS">The Jolly Beggars</a></i>. For the literary treatment of the +theme he had hints from Ramsay, in whose <i>Merry Beggars</i> and <i>Happy +Beggars</i> groups of half a<a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a> dozen male and female characters proclaim +their views and join in a chorus in praise of drink. More direct +suggestion for the setting of his “cantata” came from a night visit +made by the poet and two of his friends to the low alehouse kept by +Nancy Gibson (“Poosie Nansie”) in Mauchline. The poem was written in +1785, but Burns never published it and seems almost to have forgotten +its existence.</p> + +<p>It is impossible to exaggerate the unpromising nature of the theme. +The place is a den of corruption, the characters are the dregs of +society. A group of tramps and criminals have gathered at the end of +their day's wanderings to drink the very rags from their backs and +wallow in shameless incontinence. An old soldier and a quondam +“daughter of the regiment,” a mountebank and his tinker sweetheart, a +female pickpocket whose Highland bandit lover has been hanged, a +fiddler at fairs who aspires to comfort her but is outdone by a +tinker, a lame ballad-singer and his three wives, one of whom consoles +the fiddler in the face of her husband—such is the choice company. +The action is mere by-play, drunken love making; the main point is the +songs. They are mostly frank autobiography, all pervaded with<a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a> the +gaiety that comes from the conviction that being at the bottom, they +need not be anxious about falling. Wine, women, and song are their +enthusiasms, and only the song is above the lowest possible level.</p> + +<p>Such is the sordid material out of which Burns wrought his greatest +imaginative triumph. To take the reader into such a haunt and have him +pass the evening in such company, not with disgust and nausea but with +relish and joy, is an achievement that stands beside the creation of +the scenes in the Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap. It is accomplished +by virtue of the intensity of the poet's imaginative sympathy with +human nature even in its most degraded forms, and by his power of +finding utterance for the moods of the characters he conceives. The +dramatic power which we have noted in a certain group of the songs +here reaches its height, and in making the reader respond to it he +avails himself of all his literary faculties. Pungent phrasing, a +sense of the squalid picturesque, a humorous appreciation of human +weakness, and a superb command of rollicking rhythms—these elements +of his equipment are particularly notable. But the whole thing is +fused and unified by a wonderful vitality<a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a> that makes the reading of +it an actual experience. And, though several of the songs are in +English, there is no moralizing, no alien note of any kind to jar the +perfection of its harmony. Scottish literature had seen nothing like +it since Dunbar made the Seven Deadly Sins dance in hell.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS" id="THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS"></a>THE JOLLY BEGGARS<br /><br /><span class="smcap">A Cantata</span> </h3> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When lyart leaves bestrow the yird, <span class="sidenote">withered, earth</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or, wavering like the baukie bird, <span class="sidenote">bat</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Bedim cauld Boreas' blast;</div> +<div class="i0">When hailstanes drive wi' bitter skyte, <span class="sidenote">glancing stroke</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And infant frosts begin to bite,</div> +<div class="i2">In hoary cranreuch drest; <span class="sidenote">hoar-frost</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ae night at e'en a merry core <span class="sidenote">one, gang</span> </div> +<div class="i2">O' randie, gangrel bodies <span class="sidenote">rowdy, vagrant</span> </div> +<div class="i0">In Poosie Nansie's held the splore, <span class="sidenote">carousal</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To drink their orra duddies. <span class="sidenote">spare rags</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Wi' quaffing and laughing,</div> +<div class="i6">They ranted an' they sang;</div> +<div class="i4">Wi' jumping an' thumping</div> +<div class="i6">The very girdle rang. <span class="sidenote">cake-pan</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">First, niest the fire, in auld red rags, <span class="sidenote">next</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ane sat, weel brac'd wi' mealy bags,</div> +<div class="i2">An' knapsack a' in order;</div> +<div class="i0">His doxy lay within his arm; <span class="sidenote">mistress</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a>Wi' usquebae an blankets warm <span class="sidenote">whisky</span> </div> +<div class="i2">She blinket on her sodger; <span class="sidenote">leered</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' aye he gies the tozie drab <span class="sidenote">flushed with drink</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The tither skelpin' kiss, <span class="sidenote">smacking</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While she held up her greedy gab, <span class="sidenote">mouth</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Just like an aumous dish; <span class="sidenote">alms</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Ilk smack still did crack still</div> +<div class="i6">Just like a cadger's whip; <span class="sidenote">hawker's</span> </div> +<div class="i4">Then, swaggering an' staggering,</div> +<div class="i6">He roar'd this ditty up—</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>Soldier's Joy</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I am a son of Mars, who have been in many wars,</div> +<div class="i2">And show my cuts and scars wherever I come:</div> +<div class="i0">This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,</div> +<div class="i2">When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum,</div> +<div class="i36">Lal de daudle, &c.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My 'prenticeship I past where my leader breath'd his last,</div> +<div class="i2">When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abrám;</div> +<div class="i0">And I serv'd out my trade when the gallant game was play'd,</div> +<div class="i2">And the Moro low was laid at the sound of the drum.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I lastly was with Curtis, among the floating batt'ries,</div> +<div class="i2">And there I left for witness an arm and a limb:</div> +<div class="i0">Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me,</div> +<div class="i2">I'd clatter on my stamps at the sound of a drum.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And now, tho' I must beg, with a wooden arm and leg,</div> +<div class="i2">And many a tattered rag hanging over my bum,</div> +<div class="i0">I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my callet, <span class="sidenote">trull</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As when I used in scarlet to follow a drum.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a> +<div class="i0">What tho' with hoary locks I must stand the winter shocks,</div> +<div class="i2">Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home?</div> +<div class="i0">When the t'other bag I sell, and the t'other bottle tell,</div> +<div class="i2">I could meet a troop of hell at the sound of the drum.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He ended; and the kebars sheuk <span class="sidenote">rafters shook</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Aboon the chorus roar; <span class="sidenote">Above</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While frighted rattons backward leuk, <span class="sidenote">rats, look</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' seek the benmost bore. <span class="sidenote">inmost hole</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A fairy fiddler frae the neuk, <span class="sidenote">nook</span> </div> +<div class="i2">He skirled out <i>Encore!</i> <span class="sidenote">shrieked</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But up arose the martial chuck, <span class="sidenote">darling</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And laid the loud uproar.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>Sodger Laddie</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I once was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when,</div> +<div class="i0">And still my delight is in proper young men;</div> +<div class="i0">Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,</div> +<div class="i0">No wonder I'm fond of a sodger laddie.</div> +<div class="i36">Sing, Lal de dal, &c.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,</div> +<div class="i0">To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;</div> +<div class="i0">His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,</div> +<div class="i0">Transported I was with my sodger laddie. <span class="sidenote">soldier</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But the godly old chaplain left him in a lurch;</div> +<div class="i0">The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;</div> +<div class="i0">He risked the soul, and I ventur'd the body,—</div> +<div class="i0">then I prov'd false to my sodger laddie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a> +<div class="i0">Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,</div> +<div class="i0">The regiment at large for a husband I got;</div> +<div class="i0">From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,</div> +<div class="i0">I asked no more but a sodger laddie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But the peace it reduced me to beg in despair,</div> +<div class="i0">Till I met my old boy at a Cunningham fair;</div> +<div class="i0">His rags regimental they flutter'd so gaudy,</div> +<div class="i0">My heart it rejoiced at a sodger laddie.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And now I have liv'd—I know not how long,</div> +<div class="i0">And still I can join in a cup or a song;</div> +<div class="i0">But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,</div> +<div class="i0">Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Poor Merry Andrew in the neuk <span class="sidenote">corner</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler hizzie; <span class="sidenote">tinker wench</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They mind't na wha the chorus teuk, <span class="sidenote">took</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Between themselves they were sae busy,</div> +<div class="i2">At length, wi' drink and courting dizzy,</div> +<div class="i0">He stoitered up an' made a face; <span class="sidenote">staggered</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Then turn'd, an' laid a smack on Grizzy,</div> +<div class="i0">Syne tun'd his pipes wi' grave grimace. <span class="sidenote">Then</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>Auld Sir Symon</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Sir Wisdom's a fool when he's fou, <span class="sidenote">drunk</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Sir Knave is a fool in a session; <span class="sidenote">court</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He's there but a 'prentice I trow,</div> +<div class="i2">But I am a fool by profession.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a> +<div class="i0">My grannie she bought me a beuk, <span class="sidenote">book</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And I held awa to the school; <span class="sidenote">went off</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I fear I my talent misteuk,</div> +<div class="i2">But what will ye hae of a fool? <span class="sidenote">have</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">For drink I would venture my neck;</div> +<div class="i2">A hizzie's the half o' my craft; <span class="sidenote">wench</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But what could ye other expect,</div> +<div class="i2">Of ane that's avowedly daft? <span class="sidenote">crazy</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I ance was tied up like a stirk, <span class="sidenote">bullock</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For civilly swearing and quaffing;</div> +<div class="i0">I ance was abused i' the kirk, <span class="sidenote">rebuked</span> </div> +<div class="i2">For touzling a lass i' my daffin. <span class="sidenote">rumpling, fun</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Poor Andrew that tumbles for sport,</div> +<div class="i2">Let naebody name wi' a jeer;</div> +<div class="i0">There's even, I'm tauld, i' the Court,</div> +<div class="i2">A tumbler ca'd the Premier.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Observ'd ye yon reverend lad</div> +<div class="i2">Maks faces to tickle the mob?</div> +<div class="i0">He rails at our mountebank squad—</div> +<div class="i2">It's rivalship just i' the job!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And now my conclusion I'll tell,</div> +<div class="i2">For faith! I'm confoundedly dry;</div> +<div class="i0">The chiel that's a fool for himsel', <span class="sidenote">fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Gude Lord! he's far dafter than I.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then niest outspak a raucle carlin, <span class="sidenote">next, rough beldam</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha kent fu' weel to cleek the sterling. <span class="sidenote">steal, cash</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For mony a pursie she had hookit,</div> +<div class="i0">An' had in mony a well been dookit; <span class="sidenote">ducked</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a>Her love had been a Highland laddie,</div> +<div class="i0">But weary fa' the waefu' Woodie! <span class="sidenote">woe betide, gallows</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' sighs and sobs, she thus began</div> +<div class="i0">To wail her braw John Highlandman:—</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>O An' Ye Were Dead, Guidman</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A Highland lad my love was born,</div> +<div class="i0">The Lalland laws he held in scorn; <span class="sidenote">Lowland</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But he still was faithfu' to his clan,</div> +<div class="i0">My gallant braw John Highlandman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4"><span class="smcap">chorus</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">Sing hey, my braw John Highlandman!</div> +<div class="i4">Sing ho, my braw John Highlandman!</div> +<div class="i4">There's no a lad in a' the lan'</div> +<div class="i4">Was match for my John Highlandman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">With his philibeg an' tartan plaid, <span class="sidenote">kilt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And gude claymore down by his side, <span class="sidenote">two-handed sword</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The ladies' hearts he did trepan,</div> +<div class="i0">My gallant braw John Highlandman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey,</div> +<div class="i0">And lived like lords and ladies gay;</div> +<div class="i0">For a Lalland face he feared none,</div> +<div class="i0">My gallant braw John Highlandman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">They banish'd him beyond the sea;</div> +<div class="i0">But ere the bud was on the tree,</div> +<div class="i0">Adown my cheeks the pearls ran,</div> +<div class="i0">Embracing my John Highlandman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a> +<div class="i0">But och! they catch'd him at the last,</div> +<div class="i0">And bound him in a dungeon fast;</div> +<div class="i0">My curse upon them every one!</div> +<div class="i0">They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And now a widow I must mourn</div> +<div class="i0">The pleasures that will ne'er return;</div> +<div class="i0">No comfort but a hearty can,</div> +<div class="i0">When I think on John Highlandman.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A pigmy scraper wi' his fiddle,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha used to trysts an' fairs to driddle, <span class="sidenote">markets, toddle</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Her strappin' limb an' gawsie middle <span class="sidenote">buxom</span> </div> +<div class="i16">(He reach'd nae higher)</div> +<div class="i0">Had holed his heartie like a riddle,</div> +<div class="i16">And blawn't on fire. <span class="sidenote">blown it</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wi' hand on hainch, and upward e'e, <span class="sidenote">hip</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He crooned his gamut, one, two, three,</div> +<div class="i0">Then, in an <i>Ario's</i> key,</div> +<div class="i16">The wee Apollo</div> +<div class="i0">Set aff, wi' <i>allegretto</i> glee,</div> +<div class="i16">His <i>gig</i> solo.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>Whistle Owre the Lave O't</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Let me tyke up to dight that tear, <span class="sidenote">reach, wipe</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And go wi' me an' be my dear,</div> +<div class="i0">And then your every care an' fear</div> +<div class="i2">May whistle owre the lave o't. <span class="sidenote">rest</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a> +<div class="i4"><span class="smcap">chorus</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">I am a fiddler to my trade,</div> +<div class="i4">An' a' the tunes that e'er I play'd,</div> +<div class="i4">The sweetest still to wife or maid,</div> +<div class="i6">Was <i>Whistle Owre the Lave o't</i>.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">At kirns and weddings we'se be there, <span class="sidenote">harvest-homes, we shall</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And oh! sae nicely's we will fare;</div> +<div class="i0">We'll house about, till Daddie Care</div> +<div class="i2">Sing <i>Whistle Owre the Lave o't</i>.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Sae merrily the banes we'll pyke, <span class="sidenote">pick</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' sun oursels about the dyke, <span class="sidenote">wall</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' at our leisure, when ye like,</div> +<div class="i2">We'll—whistle owre the lave o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But bless me wi' your heav'n o' charms,</div> +<div class="i0">An' while I kittle hair on thairms, <span class="sidenote">tickle, catgut</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Hunger, cauld, and a' sic harms, <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +<div class="i2">May whistle owre the lave o't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Her charms had struck a sturdy caird, <span class="sidenote">tinker</span> </div> +<div class="i2">As well as poor gut-scraper;</div> +<div class="i0">He taks the fiddler by the beard,</div> +<div class="i2">An' draws a roosty rapier—<span class="sidenote">rusty</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He swoor, by a' was swearing worth,</div> +<div class="i2">To spit him like a pliver, <span class="sidenote">plover</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Unless he would from that time forth</div> +<div class="i2">Relinquish her for ever.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a> +<div class="i0">Wi' ghastly e'e, poor tweedle-dee</div> +<div class="i2">Upon his hunkers bended, <span class="sidenote">hams</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' pray'd for grace wi' ruefu' face,</div> +<div class="i2">An' sae the quarrel ended.</div> +<div class="i0">But tho' his little heart did grieve</div> +<div class="i2">When round the tinkler prest her,</div> +<div class="i0">He feign'd to snirtle in his sleeve, <span class="sidenote">snigger</span> </div> +<div class="i2">When thus the caird address'd her:—</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>Clout the Cauldron</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My bonnie lass, I work in brass,</div> +<div class="i2">A tinkler is my station;</div> +<div class="i0">I've travell'd round all Christian ground</div> +<div class="i2">In this my occupation;</div> +<div class="i0">I've ta'en the gold, I've been enroll'd</div> +<div class="i2">In many a noble squadron;</div> +<div class="i0">But vain they search'd when off I march'd</div> +<div class="i2">To go an' clout the cauldron. <span class="sidenote">patch</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Despise that shrimp, that wither'd imp,</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' a' his noise an' caperin';</div> +<div class="i0">An' tak a share wi' those that bear</div> +<div class="i2">The budget and the apron; <span class="sidenote">tool-bag</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And, by that stoup, my faith an' houp! <span class="sidenote">hope</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And by that dear Kilbaigie, <span class="sidenote">a kind of whisky</span> </div> +<div class="i0">If e'er ye want, or meet wi' scant, <span class="sidenote">dearth</span> </div> +<div class="i2">May I ne'er weet my craigie. <span class="sidenote">wet, throat</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The caird prevail'd—th' unblushing fair</div> +<div class="i2">In his embraces sunk,</div> +<div class="i0">Partly wi' love o'ercome sae sair, <span class="sidenote">so sorely</span> </div> +<div class="i2">An' partly she was drunk.</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a>Sir Violino, with an air</div> +<div class="i2">That show'd a man o' spunk, <span class="sidenote">spirit</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wish'd unison between the pair,</div> +<div class="i2">An' made the bottle clunk</div> +<div class="i12">To their health that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But hurchin Cupid shot a shaft <span class="sidenote">urchin</span> </div> +<div class="i2">That play'd a dame a shavie; <span class="sidenote">trick</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The fiddler rak'd her fore and aft,</div> +<div class="i2">Behint the chicken cavie.<span class="sidenote">hencoop</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Her lord, a wight of Homer's craft,</div> +<div class="i2">Tho' limpin' wi' the spavie, <span class="sidenote">spavin</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He hirpl'd up, an' lap like daft, <span class="sidenote">hobbled, leapt</span> </div> +<div class="i2">And shor'd them <i>Dainty Davie</i> <span class="sidenote">yielded them as lovers</span> </div> +<div class="i12">O' boot that night. <span class="sidenote">gratis</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He was a care-defying blade</div> +<div class="i2">As ever Bacchus listed; <span class="sidenote">enlisted</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tho' Fortune sair upon him laid,</div> +<div class="i2">His heart she ever miss'd it.</div> +<div class="i0">He had nae wish, but—to be glad,</div> +<div class="i2">Nor want but—when he thirsted;</div> +<div class="i0">He hated nought but—to be sad,</div> +<div class="i2">And thus the Muse suggested</div> +<div class="i12">His sang that night.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>For A' That, An' A' That</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I am a bard of no regard</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' gentlefolks, and a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">But Homer-like, the glowrin' byke, <span class="sidenote">staring crowd</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Frae town to town I draw that.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a> +<div class="i4"><span class="smcap">chorus</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">For a' that, an' a' that,</div> +<div class="i6">And twice as muckle's a' that; <span class="sidenote">much</span> </div> +<div class="i4">I've lost but ane, I've twa behin',</div> +<div class="i6">I've wife eneugh for a' that.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I never drank the Muses' stank, <span class="sidenote">pond</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Castalia's burn, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">But there it streams, an' richly reams! <span class="sidenote">foams</span> </div> +<div class="i2">My Helicon I ca' that.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Great love I bear to a' the fair,</div> +<div class="i2">Their humble slave, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">But lordly will, I hold it still</div> +<div class="i2">A mortal sin to thraw that. <span class="sidenote">thwart</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In raptures sweet this hour we meet</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' mutual love, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">But for how lang the flee may stang, <span class="sidenote">fly, sting</span> </div> +<div class="i2">Let inclination law that. <span class="sidenote">regulate</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Their tricks and craft hae put me daft, <span class="sidenote">crazy</span> </div> +<div class="i2">They've ta'en me in, an' a' that;</div> +<div class="i0">But clear your decks, an' <i>Here's the sex!</i></div> +<div class="i2">I like the jads for a' that. <span class="sidenote">jades</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">For a' that, and a' that,</div> +<div class="i6">And twice as muckle's a' that,</div> +<div class="i4">My dearest bluid, to do them guid,</div> +<div class="i6">They're welcome till't, for a' that. <span class="sidenote">to it</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a> +<div class="i0"><i>Recitativo</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">So sung the bard—and Nansie's wa's <span class="sidenote">walls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Shook with a thunder of applause,</div> +<div class="i2">Re-echo'd from each mouth;</div> +<div class="i0">They toom'd their pocks, an' pawn'd their duds. <span class="sidenote">emptied, pokes, rags</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They scarcely left to co'er their fads, <span class="sidenote">cover, tails</span> </div> +<div class="i2">To quench their lowin' drouth. <span class="sidenote">flaming</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Then owre again the jovial thrang <span class="sidenote">over, crowd</span> </div> +<div class="i2">The poet did request</div> +<div class="i0">To lowse his pack, an' wale a sang, <span class="sidenote">untie, choose</span> </div> +<div class="i2">A ballad o' the best;</div> +<div class="i4">He rising, rejoicing,</div> +<div class="i6">Between his twa Deborahs,</div> +<div class="i4">Looks round him, an' found them</div> +<div class="i6">Impatient for the chorus.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Air</i></div> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">Tune</span>: <i>Jolly Mortals, Fill Your Glasses</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">See the smoking bowl before us,</div> +<div class="i2">Mark our jovial ragged ring;</div> +<div class="i0">Round and round take up the chorus,</div> +<div class="i2">And in raptures let us sing:</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4"><span class="smcap">chorus</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i4">A fig for those by law protected!</div> +<div class="i6">Liberty's a glorious feast!</div> +<div class="i4">Courts for cowards were erected,</div> +<div class="i6">Churches built to please the priest.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">What is title? what is treasure?</div> +<div class="i2">What is reputation's care?</div> +<div class="i0">If we lead a life of pleasure,</div> +<div class="i2">'Tis no matter how or where!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a> +<div class="i0">With the ready trick and fable,</div> +<div class="i2">Round we wander all the day;</div> +<div class="i0">And at night, in barn or stable,</div> +<div class="i2">Hug our doxies on the hay. <span class="sidenote">mistresses</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Does the train-attended carriage</div> +<div class="i2">Thro' the country lighter rove?</div> +<div class="i0">Does the sober bed of marriage</div> +<div class="i2">Witness brighter scenes of love?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Life is all a variorum,</div> +<div class="i2">We regard not how it goes;</div> +<div class="i0">Let them cant about decorum</div> +<div class="i2">Who have characters to lose.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Here's to budgets, bags, and wallets!</div> +<div class="i2">Here's to all the wandering train!</div> +<div class="i0">Here's our ragged brats and callets! <span class="sidenote">wenches</span> </div> +<div class="i2">One and all cry out <i>Amen!</i></div> +</div></div> + +<p>The materials for rebuilding Burns's world are not confined to his +explicitly descriptive poems. Much can be gathered from the songs and +satires, and there are important contributions in his too scanty +essays in narrative. Of these last by far the most valuable is <i><a href="#TAM_O_SHANTER">Tam o' +Shanter</a></i>. The poem originated accidentally in the request of a certain +Captain Grose for local legends to enrich a descriptive work which he +was compiling. In Burns's correspondence will be found a prose +ac<a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a>count of the tradition on which the poem is founded, and he is +supposed to have derived hints for the relations of Tam and his spouse +from a couple he knew at Kirkoswald.</p> + +<p>It was a happy inspiration that led him to turn the story into verse, +for it revealed a capacity which otherwise we could hardly have +guessed him to possess. The vigor and rapidity of the action, the +vivid sketching of the background, the pregnant characterization, the +drollery of the humor give this piece a high place among stories in +verse, and lead us to conjecture that, had he followed this vein +instead of devoting his later years to the service of Johnson and +Thomson, he might have won a place beside the author of the +<i>Canterbury Tales</i>. He lacked, to be sure, Chaucer's breadth of +experience and richness of culture: being far less a man of the world +he would never have attained the air of breeding that distinguishes +the English poet: but with most of the essential qualities that charm +us in Chaucer's stories he was well equipped. He had the observant +eye, the power of selection, command of the telling phrase and happy +epithet, the sense of the comic and the pathetic. Beyond Chaucer he +had<a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a> passion and the power of rendering it, so that he might have +reached greater tragic depth, as he surpassed him in lyric intensity.</p> + +<p>As it is, however, Chaucer stands alone as a story-teller, for <i><a href="#TAM_O_SHANTER">Tam o' +Shanter</a></i> is with Burns an isolated achievement. There are three +distinct elements in the work—narrative, descriptive, and reflective. +The first can hardly be overpraised. We are made to feel the +reluctance of the hero to abandon the genial inn fireside, with its +warmth and uncritical companionship, for the bitter ride with a sulky +sullen dame at the end of it; the rage of the thunderstorm, as with +lowered head and fast-held bonnet the horseman plunges through it; the +growing sense of terror as, past scene after scene of ancient horror, +he approaches the ill-famed ruin. Then suddenly the mood changes. +Emboldened by his potations, Tam faces the astounding infernal revelry +with unabashed curiosity, which rises and rises till, in a pitch of +enthusiastic admiration for Cutty-Sark, he loses all discretion and +brings the “hellish legion” after him pell-mell. We reach the +serio-comic catastrophe breathless but exhilarated.</p> + +<p>The descriptive background of this galloping <a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a>adventure is skilfully +indicated. Each scene—the ale-house, the storm, the lighted church, +the witches' dance—is sketched in a dozen lines, every stroke +distinct and telling. Even the three lines indicating what waits the +hero at home is an adequate picture. Though incidental, these +vignettes add substantially to what the descriptive poems have told us +of the environment, real and imaginative, in which the poet had been +reared.</p> + +<p>The value of the reflective element is more mixed. The most quoted +passage, that beginning</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">“But pleasures are like poppies spread,”</div> +</div></div> +<p style="text-indent:0;">can only be regretted. With its literacy similes, its English, its +artificial diction, it is a patch of cheap silk upon honest homespun. +But the other pieces of interspersed comment are all admirable. The +ironic apostrophes—to Tam for neglecting his wife's warnings; to +shrewish wives, consoling them for their husband's deafness to advice; +to John Barleycorn, on the transient courage he inspires; to Tam +again, when tragedy seems imminent—are all in perfect tone, and do +much to add the element of drollery that mixes so delightfully with +the weirdness of the scene. And like the other elements in the poem +they are commend<a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a>ably short, for Burns nearly always fulfills +Bagehot's requirement that poetry should be “memorable and emphatic, +intense, and <i>soon over</i>.”</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TAM_O_SHANTER" id="TAM_O_SHANTER"></a>TAM O' SHANTER<br /><br /><span class="smcap">A Tale</span> </h3> +<blockquote> +<p><i>Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full is this Buke.</i></p> +<p class="quotsig smcap">Garvin Douglas.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">When chapman billies leave the street, <span class="sidenote">pedlar fellows</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And drouthy neibors neibors meet, <span class="sidenote">thirsty</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As market-days are wearing late,</div> +<div class="i0">An' folk begin to tak the gate; <span class="sidenote">road</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While we sit bousing at the nappy, <span class="sidenote">ale</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' getting fou and unco happy, <span class="sidenote">full, mighty</span> </div> +<div class="i0">We think na on the lang Scots miles,</div> +<div class="i0">The mosses, waters, slaps, and styles, <span class="sidenote">bogs, gaps</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That lie between us and our hame,</div> +<div class="i0">Where sits our sulky sullen dame,</div> +<div class="i0">Gathering her brows like gathering storm,</div> +<div class="i0">Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">This truth fand honest Tam o' Shanter, <span class="sidenote">found</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As he frae Ayr ae night did canter—<span class="sidenote">one</span> </div> +<div class="i0">(Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses</div> +<div class="i0">For honest men and bonnie lasses).</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">O Tam! hadst thou but been sae wise</div> +<div class="i0">As ta'en thy ain wife Kate's advice!</div> +<div class="i0">She tauld thee weel thou was a skellum, <span class="sidenote">told, good-for-nothing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A bletherin', blusterin', drunken blellum; <span class="sidenote">chattering, babbler</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a>That frae November till October,</div> +<div class="i0">Ae market-day thou was na sober; <span class="sidenote">One</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That ilka melder wi' the miller <span class="sidenote">every meal-grinding</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou sat as lang as thou had siller; <span class="sidenote">money</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That every naig was ca'd a shoe on, <span class="sidenote">nag</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The smith and thee gat roarin' fou on;</div> +<div class="i0">That at the Lord's house, even on Sunday,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou drank wi' Kirkton Jean till Monday.</div> +<div class="i0">She prophesied that, late or soon,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou would be found deep drown'd in Doon;</div> +<div class="i0">Or catch'd wi' warlocks in the mirk <span class="sidenote">wizards, dark</span> </div> +<div class="i0">By Alloway's auld haunted kirk.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet <span class="sidenote">makes, weep</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To think how many counsels sweet,</div> +<div class="i0">How mony lengthen'd sage advices,</div> +<div class="i0">The husband frae the wife despises!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">But to our tale: Ae market night,</div> +<div class="i0">Tam had got planted unco right, <span class="sidenote">uncommonly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Fast by an ingle, bleezing finely, <span class="sidenote">fireside, blazing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely; <span class="sidenote">foaming ale</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And at his elbow, Souter Johnny, <span class="sidenote">Cobbler</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony;</div> +<div class="i0">Tam lo'ed him like a very brither; <span class="sidenote">loved</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They had been fou for weeks thegither.</div> +<div class="i0">The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter,</div> +<div class="i0">And aye the ale was growing better;</div> +<div class="i0">The landlady and Tam grew gracious,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' favours secret, sweet, and precious;</div> +<div class="i0">The souter tauld his queerest stories;</div> +<div class="i0">The landlord's laugh was ready chorus;</div> +<div class="i0">The storm without might rair and rustle, <span class="sidenote">roar</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tam did na mind the storm a whistle.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a> +<div class="i2">Care, mad to see a man sae happy,</div> +<div class="i0">E'en drown'd himsel amang the nappy.</div> +<div class="i0">As bees flee hame wi' lades o' treasure, <span class="sidenote">loads</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The minutes wing'd their way wi' pleasure;</div> +<div class="i0">Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious,</div> +<div class="i0">O'er a' the ills o' life victorious!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">But pleasures are like poppies spread—</div> +<div class="i0">You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed;</div> +<div class="i0">Or like the snow falls in the river—</div> +<div class="i0">A moment white, then melts for ever;</div> +<div class="i0">Or like the borealis race,</div> +<div class="i0">That flit ere you can point their place;</div> +<div class="i0">Or like the rainbow's lovely form</div> +<div class="i0">Evanishing amid the storm.</div> +<div class="i0">Nae man can tether time nor tide;</div> +<div class="i0">The hour approaches Tam maun ride;</div> +<div class="i0">That hour, o' night's black arch the key-stane,</div> +<div class="i0">That dreary hour, he mounts his beast in;</div> +<div class="i0">And sic a night he taks the road in; <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As ne'er poor sinner was abroad in.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">The wind blew as 'twad blawn its last;</div> +<div class="i0">The rattling show'rs rose on the blast;</div> +<div class="i0">The speedy gleams the darkness swallow'd;</div> +<div class="i0">Loud, deep, and lang, the thunder bellow'd:</div> +<div class="i0">That night, a child might understand,</div> +<div class="i0">The Deil had business on his hand.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Weel mounted on his gray mare, Meg,</div> +<div class="i0">A better never lifted leg,</div> +<div class="i0">Tam skelpit on thro' dub and mire, <span class="sidenote">spanked, puddle</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Despising wind, and rain, and fire;</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a>Whiles holding fast his gude blue bonnet;</div> +<div class="i0">Whiles crooning o'er some auld Scots sonnet; <span class="sidenote">song</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whiles glow'ring round wi' prudent cares, <span class="sidenote">staring</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Lest bogles catch him unawares, <span class="sidenote">goblins</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh,</div> +<div class="i0">Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry. <span class="sidenote">ghosts, owls</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">By this time he was cross the ford,</div> +<div class="i0">Where in the snaw the chapman smoor'd; <span class="sidenote">smothered</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And past the birks and meikle stane, <span class="sidenote">birches, big</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Where drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane;</div> +<div class="i0">And thro' the whins, and by the cairn, <span class="sidenote">gorse, pile of stones</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Where hunters fand the murder'd bairn; <span class="sidenote">found</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And near the thorn, aboon the well,</div> +<div class="i0">Where Mungo's mither hang'd hersel,</div> +<div class="i0">Before him Doon pours all his floods;</div> +<div class="i0">The doubling storm roars thro' the woods;</div> +<div class="i0">The lightnings flash from pole to pole;</div> +<div class="i0">Near and more near the thunders roll;</div> +<div class="i0">When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees,</div> +<div class="i0">Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze; <span class="sidenote">blaze</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thro' ilka bore the beams were glancing; <span class="sidenote">chink</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And loud resounded mirth and dancing.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Inspiring bold John Barleycorn!</div> +<div class="i0">What dangers thou canst make us scorn?</div> +<div class="i0">Wi tippenny, we fear nae evil; <span class="sidenote">ale</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' usquebae, we'll face the devil! <span class="sidenote">whisky</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The swats sae ream'd in Tammie's noddle, <span class="sidenote">ale</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Fair play, he car'd na deils a boddle! <span class="sidenote">farthing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But Maggie stood right sair astonish'd,</div> +<div class="i0">Till by the heel and hand admonish'd,</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a>She ventur'd forward on the light;</div> +<div class="i0">And, vow! Tam saw an unco sight! <span class="sidenote">strange</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Warlocks and witches in a dance!</div> +<div class="i0">Nae cotillon brent new frae France, <span class="sidenote">brand</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels,</div> +<div class="i0">Put life and mettle in their heels.</div> +<div class="i0">A winnock-bunker in the east, <span class="sidenote">window-seat</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast—</div> +<div class="i0">A touzie tyke, black, grim, and large! <span class="sidenote">shaggy dog</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To gie them music was his charge:</div> +<div class="i0">He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl. <span class="sidenote">squeal</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till roof and rafters a' did dirl. <span class="sidenote">ring</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Coffins stood round like open presses,</div> +<div class="i0">That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses;</div> +<div class="i0">And by some devilish cantraip sleight <span class="sidenote">magic trick</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Each in its cauld hand held a light,</div> +<div class="i0">By which heroic Tam was able</div> +<div class="i0">To note upon the haly table <span class="sidenote">holy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A murderer's banes in gibbet-airns; <span class="sidenote">-irons</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns;</div> +<div class="i0">A thief new-cutted frae the rape—</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape;</div> +<div class="i0">Five tomahawks, wi' blude red rusted;</div> +<div class="i0">Five scymitars, wi' murder crusted;</div> +<div class="i0">A garter, which a babe had strangled;</div> +<div class="i0">A knife, a father's throat had mangled,</div> +<div class="i0">Whom his ain son o' life bereft—</div> +<div class="i0">The gray hairs yet stack to the heft;</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' mair of horrible and awfu',</div> +<div class="i0">Which even to name wad be unlawfu'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious,</div> +<div class="i0">The mirth and fun grew fast and furious;</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a>The piper loud and louder blew;</div> +<div class="i0">The dancers quick and quicker flew;</div> +<div class="i0">They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, <span class="sidenote">linked</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till ilka, carlin swat and reekit, <span class="sidenote">beldam, steamed</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And coost her duddies to the wark, <span class="sidenote">cast, rags, work</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And linkit at it in her sark! <span class="sidenote">tripped deftly, chemise</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Now Tam, O Tam! had thae been queans, <span class="sidenote">those, girls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A' plump and strapping in their teens;</div> +<div class="i0">Their sarks, instead o' creeshie flannen, <span class="sidenote">greasy flannel</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Been snaw-white seventeen hunder linen!<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></div> +<div class="i0">Thir breeks o' mine, my only pair, <span class="sidenote">These trousers</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That ance were plush, o' gude blue hair,</div> +<div class="i0">I wad hae gi'en them off my hurdies, <span class="sidenote">buttocks</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For ae blink o' the bonnie burdies! <span class="sidenote">maidens</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">But wither'd beldams, auld and droll,</div> +<div class="i0">Rigwoodie hags wad spean a foal, <span class="sidenote">Withered (?), wean</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Louping and flinging on a crummock, <span class="sidenote">Leaping, cudgel</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I wonder didna turn thy stomach.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">But Tam kent what was what fu' brawlie: <span class="sidenote">full well</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There was ae winsome wench and walie <span class="sidenote">choice</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That night enlisted in the core,</div> +<div class="i0">Lang after kent on Carrick shore!</div> +<div class="i0">(For mony a beast to dead she shot, <span class="sidenote">death</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And perish'd mony a bonnie boat,</div> +<div class="i0">And shook baith meikle corn and bear, <span class="sidenote">barley</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And kept the country-side in fear.)</div> +<div class="i0">Her cutty sark, o' Paisley harn, <span class="sidenote">short-shift, coarse linen</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That while a lassie she had worn,</div> +<div class="i0">In longitude tho' sorely scanty,</div> +<div class="i0">It was her best, and she was vauntie. <span class="sidenote">proud</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a>Ah! little kent thy reverend grannie</div> +<div class="i0">That sark she coft for her wee Nannie <span class="sidenote">bought</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' twa pund Scots ('twas a' her riches) <span class="sidenote">pounds</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wad ever grac'd a dance of witches!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">But here my muse her wing maun cour; <span class="sidenote">stoop</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sic flights are far beyond her pow'r—</div> +<div class="i0">To sing how Nannie lap and flang, <span class="sidenote">leapt, kicked</span> </div> +<div class="i0">(A souple jade she was, and strang);</div> +<div class="i0">And how Tam stood, like ane bewitch'd,</div> +<div class="i0">And thought his very een enrich'd;</div> +<div class="i0">Even Satan glowr'd, and fidg'd fu' fain, <span class="sidenote">fidgeted with fondness</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And hotch'd and blew wi' might and main: <span class="sidenote">jerked</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till first ae caper, syne anither, <span class="sidenote">then</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tam tint his reason a' thegither, <span class="sidenote">lost</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And roars out ‘Weel done, Cutty-sark!’ <span class="sidenote">Short-shift</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And in an instant all was dark!</div> +<div class="i0">And scarcely had he Maggie rallied,</div> +<div class="i0">When out the hellish legion sallied.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke <span class="sidenote">fret</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When plundering herds assail their byke, <span class="sidenote">herd-boys, nest</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As open pussie's mortal foes <span class="sidenote">the hare's</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When pop! she starts before their nose,</div> +<div class="i0">As eager runs the market-crowd,</div> +<div class="i0">When ‘Catch the thief!’ resounds aloud;</div> +<div class="i0">So Maggie runs; the witches follow,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' mony an eldritch skriech and hollo. <span class="sidenote">weird screech</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Ah, Tam! ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin'!<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></div> +<div class="i0">In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin'!</div> +<div class="i0">In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin'!</div> +<div class="i0">Kate soon will be a woefu' woman!</div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a>Now do thy speedy utmost, Meg,</div> +<div class="i0">And win the key-stane o' the brig;</div> +<div class="i0">There at them thou thy tail may toss,</div> +<div class="i0">A running stream they darena cross.</div> +<div class="i0">But ere the key-stane she could make,</div> +<div class="i0">The fient a tail she had to shake! <span class="sidenote">devil</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For Nannie, far before the rest,</div> +<div class="i0">Hard upon noble Maggie prest,</div> +<div class="i0">And flew at Tam wi' furious ettle; <span class="sidenote">endeavor</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But little wist she Maggie's mettle!</div> +<div class="i0">Ae spring brought off her master hale, <span class="sidenote">whole</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But left behind her ain gray tail:</div> +<div class="i0">The carlin caught her by the rump, <span class="sidenote">clutched</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And left poor Maggie scarce a stump.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i2">Now, wha this tale o' truth shall read,</div> +<div class="i0">Ilk man and mother's son, take heed;</div> +<div class="i0">Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd,</div> +<div class="i0">Or cutty-sarks rin in your mind,</div> +<div class="i0">Think! ye may buy the joys o'er dear;</div> +<div class="i0">Remember Tam o' Shanter's mare.</div> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span> </a> Woven in a reed of 1,700 divisions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span> </a> Lit., a present from a fair; deserts and something +more.</p></div> + +<p>Description in Burns is not confined to man and society: he has much +to say of nature, animate and inanimate.</p> + +<p>Though within a few miles of the ocean, the scenery among which the +poet grew up was inland scenery. He lived more than once by the sea +for short periods, yet it appears but little in his verse, and then +usually as the great severing element.</p> + +<div class="poem"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And seas between us braid hae roar'd</div> +<div class="i2">Sin auld lang syne</div></div> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">is the characteristic line. Scottish poetry had no tradition of the +sea. To England the sea had been the great boundary and defense +against the continental powers, and her naval achievements had long +produced a patriotic sentiment with regard to it which is reflected in +her literature. But Scotland's frontier had been the line of the +Cheviots and the Tweed, and save for a brief space under James IV she +had never been a sea-power. Thus the cruelty and danger of the sea are +almost the only phases prominent in her poetry, and Burns here once +more follows tradition.</p> + +<p>Again, the scenery of Ayrshire was Lowland scenery, with pastoral +hills and valleys. On his Highland tours Burns saw and admired +mountains, but they too appear little in his verse. Though not an +unimportant figure in the development of natural description in +literature, he had not reached the modern deliberateness in the +seeking out of nature's beauties for worship or imitation, so that the +phases of natural beauty which we find in his poetry are merely those +which had unconsciously become fixed in a memory naturally retentive +of visual images.</p> +<p><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a> +Not only do his natural descriptions deal with the aspects familiar +to him in his ordinary surroundings, but they are for the most part +treated in relation to life. The thunderstorm in <i><a href="#TAM_O_SHANTER">Tam o' Shanter</a></i> is a +characteristic example. It is detailed and vivid and is for the moment +the center of interest; but it is introduced solely on Tam's account. +Oftener the wilder moods of the weather are used as settings for lyric +emotion. In <i>Winter, a Dirge</i>, the harmony of the poet's spirit with +the tempest is the whole theme, and in <i><a href="#MY_NANNIES_AWA">My Nannie's Awa</a></i> the same idea +is treated with more mature art:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Come autumn sae pensive, in yellow and gray,</div> +<div class="i0">And soothe me wi' tidings o' nature's decay;</div> +<div class="i0">The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw</div> +<div class="i0">Alane can delight me—now Nannie's awa.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Many poems are introduced with a note of the season, even when it has +no marked relation to the tone of the poem. <i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday +Night</a></i> opens with</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;"><i><a href="#THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS">The Jolly Beggars</a></i> with</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When lyart leaves bestrew the yird;</div> +</div></div> +<p style="text-indent:0;"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a> +<i><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_DAVIE_A_BROTHER_POET">The Epistle to Davie</a></i> with</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">While winds frae off Ben-Lomond blaw,</div> +<div class="i0">An' bar the doors wi' drivin' snaw,</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">though in this last case it is skilfully used to introduce the theme. +These introductions are probably less imitations of the traditional +opening landscape which had been a convention since the early Middle +Ages, than the natural result of a plowman's daily consciousness of +the weather.</p> + +<p>For whether related organically to his subject or not, Burns's +descriptions of external nature are to a high degree marked by actual +experience and observation. Even remembering Thomson in the previous +generation and Cowper and Crabbe in his own, we may safely say that +English poetry had hardly seen such realism. Its quality will be +conceived from a few passages. Take the well-known description of the +flood from <i>The Brigs of Ayr</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When heavy, dark, continued, a'-day rains, <span class="sidenote">all-day</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' deepening deluges o'erflow the plains;</div> +<div class="i0">When from the hills where springs the brawling Coil,</div> +<div class="i0">Or stately Lugar's mossy fountains boil,</div> +<div class="i0">Or where the Greenock winds his moorland course,</div> +<div class="i0">Or haunted Garpal draws his feeble source,</div> +<div class="i0">Arous'd by blust'ring winds an' spotting thowes, <span class="sidenote">thaws</span> </div> +<div class="i0">In mony a torrent down the snaw-broo rowes; <span class="sidenote">melted snow rolls</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a>While crashing ice, borne on the roaring spate, <span class="sidenote">flood</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate; <span class="sidenote">way (to the sea)</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And from Glenbuck, down to the Ralton-key,</div> +<div class="i0">Auld Ayr is just one lengthen'd, tumbling sea;</div> +<div class="i0">Then down ye'll hurl, deil nor ye never rise! <span class="sidenote">devil if</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And dash the gumlie jaup up to the pouring skies! <span class="sidenote">muddy splashes</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<p>Any reader familiar with Gavin Douglas's description of a Scottish +winter in his Prologue to the twelfth book of the <i>Æneid</i> will be +struck by the resemblance to this passage both in subject and manner. +It is doubtful whether Burns knew more of Douglas than the motto to +<i><a href="#TAM_O_SHANTER">Tam o' Shanter</a></i>, but from the days of the turbulent bishop in the +early sixteenth century down to Burns's own time Scottish poetry had +never lost touch with nature, and had rendered it with peculiar +faithfulness. It is interesting to note that while <i>The Brigs of Ayr</i> +is Burns's most successful attempt at the heroic couplet, and though +it contains verses that must have encouraged his ambition to be a +Scottish Pope, yet it is sprinkled with touches of natural observation +quite remote from the manner of that master. Compare, on the one hand, +such couplets as these:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Will your poor narrow foot-path of a street,</div> +<div class="i0">Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet,—</div> +</div></div> +<p style="text-indent:0;"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a> +and</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And tho' wi' crazy eild I'm sair forfairn <span class="sidenote">old age, sorely worn-out</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'll be a brig when ye're a shapeless cairn! <span class="sidenote">heap of stones</span> </div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">and</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Forms like some bedlam statuary's dream,</div> +<div class="i0">The craz'd creations of misguided whim;</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">and</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">As for your priesthood, I shall say but little,</div> +<div class="i4">Corbies and clergy are a shot right kittle; <span class="sidenote">Ravens, sort, ticklish</span> </div> +</div></div> +<p style="text-indent:0;">couplets of which Pope need hardly have been ashamed, with such +touches of nature as these:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Except perhaps the robin's whistling glee,</div> +<div class="i0">Proud o' the height o some bit half-lang tree:</div> +</div></div> +<p style="text-indent:0;">and</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The silent moon shone high o'er tow'r and tree:</div> +<div class="i0">The chilly frost, beneath the silver beam,</div> +<div class="i0">Crept, gently crusting, owre the glittering stream.</div> +</div></div> +<p>These examples of his power of exact, vigorous, or delicate rendering +of familiar sights and sounds may be supplemented with a few from +other poems.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O sweet are Coila's haughs an' woods, <span class="sidenote">intervales</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When lintwhites chant amang the buds, <span class="sidenote">linnets</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And jinkin' hares, in amorous whids, <span class="sidenote">dodging, gambols</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Their loves enjoy,</div> +<div class="i0">While thro' the braes the cushat croods <span class="sidenote">coos</span> </div> +<div class="i6">Wi' wailfu' cry!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a> +<div class="i0">Ev'n winter bleak has charms to me</div> +<div class="i0">When winds rave thro' the naked tree;</div> +<div class="i0">Or frost on hills of Ochiltree</div> +<div class="i6">Are hoary gray;</div> +<div class="i0">Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee,</div> +<div class="i6">Dark'ning the day!</div> +</div><p class="quotsig"><i>Epistle to William Simpson.</i></p> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,</div> +<div class="i2">As thro' the glen it wimpled;</div> +<div class="i0">Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays;</div> +<div class="i2">Whyles in a wiel it dimpled;</div> +<div class="i0">Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,</div> +<div class="i2">Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;</div> +<div class="i0">Whyles cookit underneath the braes,</div> +<div class="i2">Below the spreading hazel,</div> +<div class="i6">Unseen that night.</div> +</div><p class="quotsig"><i><a href="#HALLOWEEN">Halloween</a>.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>Closely interwoven with Burns's feelings for natural beauty is his +sympathy with animals. The frequency of passages of pathos on the +sufferings of beasts and birds may be in part due to the influence of +Sterne, but in the main its origin is not literary but is an +expression of a tender heart and a lifelong friendly intercourse. In +this relation Burns most often allows his sentiment to come to the +edge of sentimentality, yet in fairness it must be said that he seldom +crosses the line. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he <a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a>had no need +to force the note; it was his instinct both as a farmer and as a lover +of animals to think, when he heard the storm rise, how it would affect +the lower creation.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">List'ning the doors and winnocks rattle, <span class="sidenote">windows</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I thought me on the ourie cattle, <span class="sidenote">shivering</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle <span class="sidenote">onset</span> </div> +<div class="i8">O' winter war,</div> +<div class="i0">And thro' the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle <span class="sidenote">-sinking, scramble</span> </div> +<div class="i8">Beneath a scar.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing! <span class="sidenote">Each hopping</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That, in the merry months o' spring,</div> +<div class="i0">Delighted me to hear thee sing,</div> +<div class="i8">What comes o' thee?</div> +<div class="i0">Where wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing,</div> +<div class="i8">An' close thy e'e? <span class="sidenote">eye</span> </div> +</div> +<p class="quotsig"><i>A Winter Night.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>A number of his most popular pieces are the expression of this +warm-hearted sympathy, a sympathy not confined to suffering but +extending to enjoyment of life and sunshine, and at times leading him +to the half-humorous, half-tender ascription to horses and sheep of a +quasi-human intelligence. Were we to indulge further our conjectures +as to what Burns might have done under more favorable circumstances, +it would be<a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a> easy to argue that he could have ranked with Henryson and +La Fontaine as a writer of fables.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TO_A_MOUSE" id="TO_A_MOUSE"></a>TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH, NOVEMBER, 1785</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie, <span class="sidenote">sleek</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O what a panic's in thy breastie!</div> +<div class="i0">Thou need na start awa sae hasty,</div> +<div class="i12">Wi' bickering brattle! <span class="sidenote">hurrying rush</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I wad na be laith to rin an' chase thee <span class="sidenote">loath</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Wi' murd'ring pattle! <span class="sidenote">plough-staff</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I'm truly sorry man's dominion</div> +<div class="i0">Has broken Nature's social union,</div> +<div class="i0">An' justifies that ill opinion</div> +<div class="i12">Which makes thee startle</div> +<div class="i0">At me, thy poor earth-born companion,</div> +<div class="i12">An' fellow-mortal!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;</div> +<div class="i0">What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!</div> +<div class="i0">A daimen icker in a thrave <span class="sidenote">odd ear, 24 sheaves</span> </div> +<div class="i12">'S a sma' request; <span class="sidenote">Is</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'll get a blessin' wi' the lave, <span class="sidenote">rest</span> </div> +<div class="i12">And never miss't!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a> +<div class="i0">Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!</div> +<div class="i0">Its silly wa's the win's are strewin'! <span class="sidenote">frail</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' naething, now, to big a new ane,</div> +<div class="i12">O' foggage green!</div> +<div class="i0">An' bleak December's winds ensuin',</div> +<div class="i12">Baith snell an' keen! <span class="sidenote">bitter</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,</div> +<div class="i0">An' weary winter comin' fast,</div> +<div class="i0">An' cozie here, beneath the blast,</div> +<div class="i12">Thou thought to dwell,</div> +<div class="i0">Till crash! the cruel coulter past</div> +<div class="i12">Out thro' thy cell.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble <span class="sidenote">stubble</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!</div> +<div class="i0">Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,</div> +<div class="i12">But house or hald, <span class="sidenote">Without, holding</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To thole the winter's sleety dribble, <span class="sidenote">endure</span> </div> +<div class="i12">An' cranreuch cauld! <span class="sidenote">hoar-frost</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane, <span class="sidenote">alone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">In proving foresight may be vain:</div> +<div class="i0">The best laid schemes o' mice an' men</div> +<div class="i12">Gang aft a-gley, <span class="sidenote">Go oft askew</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain <span class="sidenote">leave</span> </div> +<div class="i12">For promis'd joy.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a> +<div class="i0">Still thou art blest compar'd wi' me!</div> +<div class="i0">The present only toucheth thee:</div> +<div class="i0">But och! I backward cast my e'e</div> +<div class="i12">On prospects drear!</div> +<div class="i0">An' forward tho' I canna see,</div> +<div class="i12">I guess an' fear!</div> +</div></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TO_A_LOUSE" id="TO_A_LOUSE"></a>TO A LOUSE<br /><br /><span class="smcap">On Seeing One on a Lady's Bonnet at Church</span> </h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin' ferlie! <span class="sidenote">where are, going, wonder</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Your impudence protects you sairly:</div> +<div class="i0">I canna say but ye strunt rarely, <span class="sidenote">swagger</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Owre gauze and lace;</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' faith! I fear ye dine but sparely</div> +<div class="i16">On sic a place. <span class="sidenote">such</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye ugly, creepin', blastit wonner, <span class="sidenote">wonder</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Detested, shunn'd by saunt an' sinner! <span class="sidenote">saint</span> </div> +<div class="i0">How dare ye set your fit upon her, <span class="sidenote">foot</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Sae fine a lady!</div> +<div class="i0">Gae somewhere else, and seek your dinner <span class="sidenote">Go</span> </div> +<div class="i16">On some poor body.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Swith! in some beggar's haffet squattle; <span class="sidenote">Quick, temples settle</span> </div> +<div class="i0">There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle,</div> +<div class="i16">In shoals and nations;</div> +<div class="i0">Whare horn nor bane ne'er dare unsettle <span class="sidenote"><i>i.e.</i> comb</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Your thick plantations.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a> +<div class="i0">Now haud ye there! ye're out o' sight, <span class="sidenote">keep</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Below the fatt'rils, snug an' tight; <span class="sidenote">fal-de-rals</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right</div> +<div class="i16">Till ye've got on it,</div> +<div class="i0">The very tapmost tow'ring height</div> +<div class="i16">O' Miss's bonnet.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,</div> +<div class="i0">As plump and gray as onie grozet; <span class="sidenote">gooseberry</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O for some rank mercurial rozet, <span class="sidenote">rosin</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Or fell red smeddum! <span class="sidenote">deadly, dust</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'd gie you sic a hearty doze o't,</div> +<div class="i16">Wad dress your droddum! <span class="sidenote">breech</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I wad na been surpris'd to spy</div> +<div class="i0">You on an auld wife's flannen toy; <span class="sidenote">flannel cap</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or aiblins some bit duddie boy, <span class="sidenote">perhaps, ragged</span> </div> +<div class="i16">On's wyliecoat; <span class="sidenote">undervest</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But Miss's fine Lunardi! fie, <span class="sidenote">balloon bonnet</span> </div> +<div class="i16">How daur ye do't? <span class="sidenote">dare</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Jenny, dinna toss your head,</div> +<div class="i0">An' set your beauties a' abread! <span class="sidenote">abroad</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye little ken what cursed speed</div> +<div class="i16">The blastie's makin'! <span class="sidenote">little wretch</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thae winks and finger-ends, I dread, <span class="sidenote">Those</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Are notice takin'!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us</div> +<div class="i0">To see oursels as others see us!</div> +<div class="i0">It wad frae mony a blunder free us,</div> +<div class="i16">And foolish notion:</div> +<div class="i0">What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,</div> +<div class="i16">And ev'n devotion!</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a><a name="TO_A_MOUNTAIN_DAISY" id="TO_A_MOUNTAIN_DAISY"></a>TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY<br /><br /><span class="smcap">On Turning One Down With a Plough in April, 1786</span> </h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wee modest crimson-tippèd flow'r,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou's met me in an evil hour;</div> +<div class="i0">For I maun crush amang the stoure <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Thy slender stem:</div> +<div class="i0">To spare thee now is past my pow'r,</div> +<div class="i12">Thou bonnie gem.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Alas! it's no thy neibor sweet,</div> +<div class="i0">The bonnie lark, companion meet,</div> +<div class="i0">Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet</div> +<div class="i12">Wi' spreckl'd breast,</div> +<div class="i0">When upward springing, blythe to greet</div> +<div class="i12">The purpling east.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Cauld blew the bitter-biting north</div> +<div class="i0">Upon thy early humble birth;</div> +<div class="i0">Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth</div> +<div class="i12">Amid the storm,</div> +<div class="i0">Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth</div> +<div class="i12">Thy tender form.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield</div> +<div class="i0">High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield, <span class="sidenote">walls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But thou, beneath the random bield <span class="sidenote">shelter</span> </div> +<div class="i12">O' clod or stane,</div> +<div class="i0">Adorns the histie stibble-field, <span class="sidenote">barren</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Unseen, alane.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a> +<div class="i0">There, in thy scanty mantle clad,</div> +<div class="i0">Thy snawy bosom sun-ward spread,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou lifts thy unassuming head</div> +<div class="i12">In humble guise;</div> +<div class="i0">But now the share uptears thy bed,</div> +<div class="i12">And low thou lies!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Such is the fate of artless maid,</div> +<div class="i0">Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade,</div> +<div class="i0">By love's simplicity betray'd,</div> +<div class="i12">And guileless trust,</div> +<div class="i0">Till she like thee, all soil'd, is laid</div> +<div class="i12">Low i' the dust.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Such is the fate of simple bard,</div> +<div class="i0">On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd:</div> +<div class="i0">Unskilful he to note the card</div> +<div class="i12">Of prudent lore,</div> +<div class="i0">Till billows rage, and gales blow hard,</div> +<div class="i12">And whelm him o'er!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Such fate to suffering worth is giv'n,</div> +<div class="i0">Who long with wants and woes has striv'n,</div> +<div class="i0">By human pride or cunning driv'n</div> +<div class="i12">To mis'ry's brink,</div> +<div class="i0">Till wrench'd of ev'ry stay but Heav'n,</div> +<div class="i12">He, ruin'd, sink!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate,</div> +<div class="i0">That fate is thine—no distant date;</div> +<div class="i0">Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives elate</div> +<div class="i12">Full on thy bloom,</div> +<div class="i0">Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight</div> +<div class="i12">Shall be thy doom!</div> +</div></div> +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a><a name="THE_AULD_FARMERS_NEW-YEAR_MORNING_SALUTATION_TO_HIS_AULD_MARE" id="THE_AULD_FARMERS_NEW-YEAR_MORNING_SALUTATION_TO_HIS_AULD_MARE"></a>THE AULD FARMER'S NEW-YEAR MORNING SALUTATION TO HIS AULD MARE, +MAGGIE.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<p class="center"><strong class="smcap">On Giving Her the Accustomed Ripp of Corn to<br /> Hansel in the New +Year</strong><span class="sidenote ralign">welcome with a present</span></p> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">A guid New-Year I wish thee, Maggie!</div> +<div class="i0">Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie: <span class="sidenote">handful, belly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tho' thou's howe-backit now, an' knaggie, <span class="sidenote">hollow-backed, knobby</span> </div> +<div class="i16">I've seen the day,</div> +<div class="i0">Thou could hae gane like ony staggie <span class="sidenote">colt</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Out-owre the lay. <span class="sidenote">Across, lea</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Tho' now thou's dowie, stiff, an' crazy, <span class="sidenote">drooping</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' thy auld hide's as white's a daisie,</div> +<div class="i0">I've seen thee dappled, sleek, an' glaizie, <span class="sidenote">glossy</span> </div> +<div class="i16">A bonnie gray:</div> +<div class="i0">He should been tight that daur't to raize thee, <span class="sidenote">excite</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Ance in a day. <span class="sidenote">Once</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou ance was i' the foremost rank,</div> +<div class="i0">A filly buirdly, steeve, an' swank, <span class="sidenote">stately, compact, limber</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' set weel down a shapely shank,</div> +<div class="i16">As e'er tread yird; <span class="sidenote">earth</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' could hae flown out-owre a stank, <span class="sidenote">pool</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Like ony bird.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's now some nine-an-twenty year,</div> +<div class="i0">Sin' thou was my guid-father's meere;</div> +<div class="i0">He gied me thee, o' tocher dear, <span class="sidenote">as dowry</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' fifty mark;</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' it was sma', 'twas weel-won gear, <span class="sidenote">wealth</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' thou was stark. <span class="sidenote">strong</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a> +<div class="i0">When first I gaed to woo my Jenny,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye then was trottin' wi' your minnie: <span class="sidenote">mother</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tho' ye was trickie, slee, an' funnie, <span class="sidenote">sly</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Ye ne'er was donsie; <span class="sidenote">unmanageable</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But hamely, tawie, quiet, an' cannie, <span class="sidenote">tractable, good tempered</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' unco sonsie. <span class="sidenote">very attractive</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">That day ye pranc'd wi' muckle pride <span class="sidenote">much</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When ye bure hame my bonnie bride; <span class="sidenote">bore</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' sweet an' gracefu' she did ride,</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' maiden air!</div> +<div class="i0">Kyle-Stewart I could braggèd wide <span class="sidenote">have challenged</span> </div> +<div class="i16">For sic a pair.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Tho' now ye dow but hoyte and hobble, <span class="sidenote">can only halt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' wintle like a saumont-coble, <span class="sidenote">stagger, salmon-boat</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That day ye was a jinker noble <span class="sidenote">goer</span> </div> +<div class="i16">For heels an' win'! <span class="sidenote">wind</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' ran them till they a' did wobble</div> +<div class="i16">Far, far behin'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When thou an' I were young and skeigh, <span class="sidenote">skittish</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' stable-meals at fairs were driegh, <span class="sidenote">dull</span> </div> +<div class="i0">How thou wad prance, an' snore, an' skriegh <span class="sidenote">snort, neigh</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' tak the road!</div> +<div class="i0">Town's-bodies ran, and stood abeigh, <span class="sidenote">aloof</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' ca't thee mad.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When thou was corn't, an' I was mellow, <span class="sidenote">full of corn</span> </div> +<div class="i0">We took the road aye like a swallow:</div> +<div class="i0">At brooses thou had ne'er a fellow <span class="sidenote">wedding-races</span> </div> +<div class="i16">For pith an' speed;</div> +<div class="i0">But ev'ry tail thou pay't them hollow,</div> +<div class="i16">Where'er thou gaed. <span class="sidenote">went</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a> +<div class="i0">The sma', drooped-rumpled hunter cattle, <span class="sidenote">short-rumped</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Might aiblins waur'd thee for a brattle; <span class="sidenote">perhaps have beat, spurt</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But sax Scotch miles, thou tried their mettle,</div> +<div class="i16">An' gart them whaizle; <span class="sidenote">wheeze</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Nae whip nor spur, but just a wattle</div> +<div class="i16">O' saugh or hazel. <span class="sidenote">willow</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou was a noble fittie-lan', <span class="sidenote">near horse of hindmost pair</span> </div> +<div class="i0">As e'er in tug or tow was drawn! <span class="sidenote">hide or tow traces</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Aft thee an' I, in aucht hours gaun, <span class="sidenote">eight, going</span> </div> +<div class="i16">On guid March-weather,</div> +<div class="i0">Hae turn'd sax rood beside our han',</div> +<div class="i16">For days thegither.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou never braindg't, an' fetch't, an' fliskit, <span class="sidenote">plunged, stopped, capered</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But thy auld tail thou wad hae whiskit,</div> +<div class="i0">An' spread abreed thy weel-fill'd brisket, <span class="sidenote">chest</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' pith an' pow'r,</div> +<div class="i0">Till spritty knowes wad rair't and riskit, <span class="sidenote">rooty hillocks, roared, cracked</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' slypet owre. <span class="sidenote">fallen gently over</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When frosts lay lang, an' snaws were deep,</div> +<div class="i0">An' threaten'd labour back to keep,</div> +<div class="i0">I gied thy cog a wee bit heap <span class="sidenote">dish</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Aboon the timmer; <span class="sidenote">edges</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I kenn'd my Maggie wad na sleep</div> +<div class="i16">For that, or simmer. <span class="sidenote">ere</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In cart or car thou never reestit; <span class="sidenote">were restive</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The steyest brae thou wad hae faced it; <span class="sidenote">steepest</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou never lap, an' stenned, an' breastit, <span class="sidenote">leapt, jumped</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Then stood to blaw;</div> +<div class="i0">But, just thy step a wee thing hastit,</div> +<div class="i16">Thou snoov't awa. <span class="sidenote">jogged along</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a> +<div class="i0">My pleugh is now thy bairn-time a', <span class="sidenote">plough-team, issue</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Four gallant brutes as e'er did draw;</div> +<div class="i0">Forbye sax mae I've sell't awa <span class="sidenote">Besides, more, away</span> </div> +<div class="i16">That thou hast nurst:</div> +<div class="i0">They drew me thretteen pund an' twa,</div> +<div class="i16">The very warst. <span class="sidenote">worst</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Mony a sair darg we twa hae wrought, <span class="sidenote">day's work</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' wi' the weary warl' fought!</div> +<div class="i0">An' mony an anxious day I thought</div> +<div class="i16">We wad be beat!</div> +<div class="i0">Yet here to crazy age we're brought,</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' something yet.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">And think na, my auld trusty servan',</div> +<div class="i0">That now perhaps thou's less deservin',</div> +<div class="i0">An' thy auld days may end in starvin';</div> +<div class="i16">For my last fou, <span class="sidenote">bushel</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A heapit stimpart I'll reserve ane <span class="sidenote">quarter-peck</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Laid by for you.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">We've worn to crazy years thegither;</div> +<div class="i0">We'll toyte about wi' ane anither; <span class="sidenote">totter</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' tentie care I'll flit thy tether <span class="sidenote">attentive, change</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To some hain'd rig, <span class="sidenote">reserved plot</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Where ye may nobly rax your leather, <span class="sidenote">stretch, sides</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' sma' fatigue.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>To the evidence of Burns's warm-heartedness supplied by these kindly +verses may appropriately be added the <i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL">Address to the Deil</a></i>. Burns's +atti<a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a>tude to the supernatural we have already slightly touched on. +Apart from the somewhat vague Deism which seems to have formed his +personal creed, the poet's attitude toward most of the beliefs in the +other world which were held around him was one of amused skepticism. +<i><a href="#HALLOWEEN">Halloween</a></i> and <i><a href="#TAM_O_SHANTER">Tam o' Shanter</a></i> show how he regarded the grosser +rural superstitions; but the Devil was another matter. Scottish +Calvinism had, as has been said, made him almost the fourth person in +the Godhead; and Burns's thrusts at this belief are among the most +effective things in his satire. In the present piece, however, the +satirical spirit is almost overcome by kindliness and benevolent +humor, and few of his poems are more characteristic of this side of +his nature.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL" id="ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL"></a>ADDRESS TO THE DEIL</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O thou! whatever title suit thee,</div> +<div class="i0">Auld Hornie, Satan, Mick, or Clootie, <span class="sidenote">Hoofie</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha in yon cavern grim an' sootie,</div> +<div class="i12">Clos'd under hatches,</div> +<div class="i0">Spairges about the brunstane cootie, <span class="sidenote">Splashes, dish</span> </div> +<div class="i12">To scaud poor wretches! <span class="sidenote">scald</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a> +<div class="i0">Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, <span class="sidenote">Hangman</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' let poor damnèd bodies be;</div> +<div class="i0">I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie,</div> +<div class="i12">Ev'n to a deil,</div> +<div class="i0">To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me, <span class="sidenote">spank, scald</span> </div> +<div class="i12">An' hear us squeal!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame;</div> +<div class="i0">Far kenn'd an' noted is thy name;</div> +<div class="i0">An', tho' yon lowin' heugh's thy hame, <span class="sidenote">flaming pit</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Thou travels far;</div> +<div class="i0">An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame, <span class="sidenote">backward</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Nor blate nor scaur. <span class="sidenote">shy, afraid</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Whyles rangin' like a roarin' lion</div> +<div class="i0">For prey, a' holes an' corners tryin';</div> +<div class="i0">Whyles on the strong-wing'd tempest flyin',</div> +<div class="i12">Tirlin' the kirks; <span class="sidenote">Stripping</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whyles, in the human bosom pryin',</div> +<div class="i12">Unseen thou lurks.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I've heard my reverend grannie say,</div> +<div class="i0">In lanely glens ye like to stray;</div> +<div class="i0">Or, where auld ruin'd castles gray</div> +<div class="i12">Nod to the moon,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye fright the nightly wand'rer's way,</div> +<div class="i12">Wi' eldritch croon. <span class="sidenote">weird</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When twilight did my grannie summon</div> +<div class="i0">To say her pray'rs, douce, honest woman! <span class="sidenote">sedate</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Aft yont the dyke she's heard you bummin', <span class="sidenote">beyond</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Wi' eerie drone;</div> +<div class="i0">Or, rustlin', thro' the boortrees comin', <span class="sidenote">elders</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Wi' heavy groan.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a> +<div class="i0">Ae dreary windy winter night</div> +<div class="i0">The stars shot down wi' sklentin' light, <span class="sidenote">squinting</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' you mysel I gat a fright</div> +<div class="i12">Ayont the lough; <span class="sidenote">pond</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye like a rash-buss stood in sight <span class="sidenote">clump of rushes</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Wi' waving sough. <span class="sidenote">moan</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The cudgel in my nieve did shake, <span class="sidenote">fist</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Each bristled hair stood like a stake,</div> +<div class="i0">When wi' an eldritch stoor ‘quaick, quaick,’ <span class="sidenote">weird, harsh</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Amang the springs,</div> +<div class="i0">Awa ye squatter'd like a drake</div> +<div class="i12">On whistlin' wings.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Let warlocks grim an' wither'd hags</div> +<div class="i0">Tell how wi' you on ragweed nags <span class="sidenote">ragwort</span> </div> +<div class="i0">They skim the muirs an' dizzy crags</div> +<div class="i12">Wi' wicked speed;</div> +<div class="i0">And in kirk-yards renew their leagues</div> +<div class="i12">Owre howkit dead. <span class="sidenote">disturbed</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thence country wives, wi' toil an' pain,</div> +<div class="i0">May plunge an' plunge the kirn in vain; <span class="sidenote">churn</span> </div> +<div class="i0">For oh! the yellow treasure's taen <span class="sidenote"><i>i.e.</i>, the butter</span> </div> +<div class="i12">By witchin' skill;</div> +<div class="i0">An' dawtit, twal-pint Hawkie's gane <span class="sidenote">petted, twelve-pint cow</span> </div> +<div class="i12">As yell's the bill. <span class="sidenote">dry, bull</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thence mystic knots mak great abuse</div> +<div class="i0">On young guidmen, fond, keen, an' crouse; <span class="sidenote">husbands, cocksure</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When the best wark-lume i' the house, <span class="sidenote">tool</span> </div> +<div class="i12">By cantrip wit, <span class="sidenote">magic</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Is instant made no worth a louse,</div> +<div class="i12">Just at the bit. <span class="sidenote">crisis</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a> +<div class="i0">When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord, <span class="sidenote">thaws, hoard</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' float the jinglin' icy boord,</div> +<div class="i0">Then water-kelpies haunt the foord, <span class="sidenote">-spirits</span> </div> +<div class="i12">By your direction,</div> +<div class="i0">An' 'nighted travelers are allur'd</div> +<div class="i12">To their destruction.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An' aft your moss-traversing spunkies <span class="sidenote">bog-, goblins</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Decoy the wight that late an' drunk is:</div> +<div class="i0">The bleezin, curst, mischievous monkies</div> +<div class="i12">Delude his eyes,</div> +<div class="i0">Till in some miry slough he sunk is,</div> +<div class="i12">Ne'er mair to rise.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When masons' mystic word an' grip</div> +<div class="i0">In storms an' tempests raise you up,</div> +<div class="i0">Some cock or cat your rage maun stop, <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Or, strange to tell!</div> +<div class="i0">The youngest brither ye wad whip</div> +<div class="i12">Aff straught to hell. <span class="sidenote">straight</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Lang syne, in Eden's bonnie yard, <span class="sidenote">ago, garden</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd,</div> +<div class="i0">And all the soul of love they shar'd,</div> +<div class="i12">The raptur'd hour,</div> +<div class="i0">Sweet on the fragrant flow'ry swaird, <span class="sidenote">sward</span> </div> +<div class="i12">In shady bow'r;</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then you, ye auld snick-drawing dog! <span class="sidenote">scheming</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye cam to Paradise incog,</div> +<div class="i0">An' play'd on man a cursed brogue, <span class="sidenote">trick</span> </div> +<div class="i12">(Black be your fa!)</div> +<div class="i0">An' gied the infant warld a shog, <span class="sidenote">shake</span> </div> +<div class="i12">'Maist ruin'd a'.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a> +<div class="i0">D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz, <span class="sidenote">flurry</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' reekit duds, an' reestit gizz, <span class="sidenote">smoky rags, scorched wig</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye did present your smoutie phiz <span class="sidenote">smutty</span> </div> +<div class="i12">'Mang better folk,</div> +<div class="i0">An' sklented on the man of Uz <span class="sidenote">squinted</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Your spitefu' joke?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An' how ye gat him i' your thrall,</div> +<div class="i0">An' brak him out o' house an' hal', <span class="sidenote">holding</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While scabs an' blotches did him gall</div> +<div class="i12">Wi' bitter claw,</div> +<div class="i0">An' lows'd his ill-tongu'd wicked scaul, <span class="sidenote">loosed, scold</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Was warst ava? <span class="sidenote">of all</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But a' your doings to rehearse,</div> +<div class="i0">Your wily snares an' <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original reads 'fetchin''">fechtin'</ins> fierce, <span class="sidenote">fighting</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sin' that day Michael did you pierce,</div> +<div class="i12">Down to this time,</div> +<div class="i0">Wad ding a' Lallan tongue, or Erse, <span class="sidenote">heat, Lowland</span> </div> +<div class="i12">In prose or rhyme.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin', <span class="sidenote">Hoofs</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A certain Bardie's rantin', drinkin', <span class="sidenote">roistering</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Some luckless hour will send him linkin', <span class="sidenote">hurrying</span> </div> +<div class="i12">To your black pit;</div> +<div class="i0">But faith! he'll turn a corner jinkin', <span class="sidenote">dodging</span> </div> +<div class="i12">An' cheat you yet.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben!</div> +<div class="i0">O wad ye tak a thought an' men'! <span class="sidenote">mend</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye aiblins might—I dinna ken—<span class="sidenote">perhaps</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Still hae a stake:</div> +<div class="i0">I'm wae to think upo' yon den,</div> +<div class="i12">Ev'n for your sake!</div> +</div></div> +<p><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a> +Somewhat akin in nature is <i><a href="#DEATH_AND_DOCTOR_HORNBOOK">Death and Doctor Hornbook</a></i>. The purpose +is personal satire, Doctor Hornbook being a real person, John Wilson, +a schoolmaster in Tarbolton, who had turned quack and apothecary. The +figure of Death is an amazingly graphic creation, with its mixture of +weirdness and familiar humor; while the attack on Hornbook is managed +with consummate skill. Death is made to complain that the doctor is +balking him of his legitimate prey, and the drift seems to be +complimentary; when in the last few verses it appears that in +compensation Hornbook kills far more than he cures.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="DEATH_AND_DOCTOR_HORNBOOK" id="DEATH_AND_DOCTOR_HORNBOOK"></a>DEATH AND DOCTOR HORNBOOK</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Some books are lies frae end to end,</div> +<div class="i0">And some great lies were never penn'd:</div> +<div class="i0">Ev'n ministers, they hae been kenn'd, <span class="sidenote">known</span> </div> +<div class="i16">In holy rapture,</div> +<div class="i0">A rousing whid at times to vend, <span class="sidenote">fib</span> </div> +<div class="i16">And nail't wi' Scripture.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But this that I am gaun to tell, <span class="sidenote">going</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Which lately on a night befell,</div> +<div class="i0">Is just as true's the Deil's in hell</div> +<div class="i16">Or Dublin city:</div> +<div class="i0">That e'er he nearer comes oursel</div> +<div class="i16">'S a muckle pity. <span class="sidenote">great</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a> +<div class="i0">The clachan yill had made me canty, <span class="sidenote">village age, cheerful</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I wasna fou, but just had plenty; <span class="sidenote">full</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I stacher'd whyles, but yet took tent aye <span class="sidenote">staggered, heed</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To free the ditches; <span class="sidenote">clear</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' hillocks, stanes, an' bushes kent aye</div> +<div class="i16">Frae ghaists an' witches.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The rising moon began to glowre <span class="sidenote">stare</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The distant Cumnock hills out-owre; <span class="sidenote">above</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To count her horns, wi' a' my pow'r,</div> +<div class="i16">I set mysel;</div> +<div class="i0">But whether she had three or four</div> +<div class="i16">I cou'd na tell.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I was come round about the hill,</div> +<div class="i0">And todlin' down on Willie's mill,</div> +<div class="i0">Setting my staff, wi' a' my skill,</div> +<div class="i16">To keep me sicker; <span class="sidenote">secure</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tho' leeward whyles, against my will,</div> +<div class="i16">I took a bicker. <span class="sidenote">run</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">I there wi' <i>Something</i> does forgather, <span class="sidenote">meet</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That pat me in an eerie swither; <span class="sidenote">put, ghostly dread</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An awfu' scythe, out-owre ae shouther, <span class="sidenote">across one shoulder</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Gear-dangling, hang; <span class="sidenote">hung</span> </div> +<div class="i0">A three-tae'd leister on the ither <span class="sidenote">-toed fish-spear</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Lay large an' lang.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Its stature seem'd lang Scotch ells twa,</div> +<div class="i0">The queerest shape that e'er I saw,</div> +<div class="i0">For fient a wame it had ava: <span class="sidenote">devil a belly, at all</span> </div> +<div class="i16">And then its shanks,</div> +<div class="i0">They were as thin, as sharp an' sma'</div> +<div class="i16">As cheeks o' branks. <span class="sidenote">sides of an ox's bridle</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a> +<div class="i0">‘Guid-een,’ quo' I; ‘Friend! hae ye been mawin, <span class="sidenote">Good-evening, mowing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">When ither folk are busy sawin?’ <span class="sidenote">sowing</span> </div> +<div class="i0">It seem'd to mak a kind o' stan',</div> +<div class="i16">But naething spak;</div> +<div class="i0">At length says I, ‘Friend, wh'are ye gaun? <span class="sidenote">going</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Will ye go back?’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It spak right howe: ‘My name is Death, <span class="sidenote">hollow</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But be na fley'd.’—Quoth I, ‘Guid faith, <span class="sidenote">frightened</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye're maybe come to stap my breath;</div> +<div class="i16">But tent me, billie: <span class="sidenote">heed, fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I red ye weel, tak care o' skaith, <span class="sidenote">advise, harm</span> </div> +<div class="i16">See, there's a gully!’ <span class="sidenote">big knife</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Gudeman,’ quo' he, ‘put up your whittle, <span class="sidenote">knife</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I'm no design'd to try its mettle;</div> +<div class="i0">But if I did—I wad be kittle <span class="sidenote">ticklish</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To be mislear'd—<span class="sidenote">if mischievous</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I wad na mind it, no that spittle</div> +<div class="i16">Out-owre my beard.’ <span class="sidenote">Over</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Weel, weel!’ says I, ‘a bargain be't;</div> +<div class="i0">Come, gies your hand, an' sae we're gree't; <span class="sidenote">give us, agreed</span> </div> +<div class="i0">We'll ease our shanks an' tak a seat—</div> +<div class="i16">Come, gies your news;</div> +<div class="i0">This while ye hae been mony a gate, <span class="sidenote">road</span> </div> +<div class="i16">At mony a house.’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Ay, ay!’ quo' he, an' shook his head,</div> +<div class="i0">‘It's e'en a lang, lang time indeed</div> +<div class="i0">Sin' I began to nick the thread,</div> +<div class="i16">An' choke the breath:</div> +<div class="i0">Folk maun do something for their bread, <span class="sidenote">must</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' sae maun Death.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a> +<div class="i0">‘Sax thousand years are near-hand fled, <span class="sidenote">well-nigh</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Sin' I was to the hutching bred; <span class="sidenote">butchering</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' mony a scheme in vain's been laid</div> +<div class="i16">To stap or scaur me; <span class="sidenote">stop, scare</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till ane Hornbook's ta'en up the trade,</div> +<div class="i16">An' faith! he'll waur me. <span class="sidenote">worst</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Ye ken Jock Hornbook i' the clachan—<span class="sidenote">village</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Deil mak his king's-hood in a spleuchan! <span class="sidenote">second stomach, tobacco pouch<br />(Author of <i>Domestic Medicine</i>)</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He's grown sae well acquaint wi' Buchan</div> +<div class="i16">An' ither chaps,</div> +<div class="i0">The weans haud out their fingers laughin', <span class="sidenote">children</span> </div> +<div class="i16">And pouk my hips. <span class="sidenote">poke</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘See, here's a scythe, and there's a dart—</div> +<div class="i0">They hae pierc'd mony a gallant heart;</div> +<div class="i0">But Doctor Hornbook, wi' his art</div> +<div class="i16">And cursed skill,</div> +<div class="i0">Has made them baith no worth a fart;</div> +<div class="i16">Damn'd haet they'll kill. <span class="sidenote">Devil a thing</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘'Twas but yestreen, nae farther gane, <span class="sidenote">last night</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I threw a noble throw at ane—</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' less, I'm sure, I've hundreds slain—</div> +<div class="i16">But deil-ma-care!</div> +<div class="i0">It just play'd dirl on the bane, <span class="sidenote">rang, bone</span> </div> +<div class="i16">But did nae mair.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Hornbook was by wi' ready art,</div> +<div class="i0">And had sae fortified the part</div> +<div class="i0">That, when I lookèd to my dart,</div> +<div class="i16">It was sae blunt,</div> +<div class="i0">Fient haet o't wad hae pierc'd the heart <span class="sidenote">Devil a bit</span> </div> +<div class="i16">O' a kail-runt. <span class="sidenote">cabbage stalk</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a> +<div class="i0">‘I drew my scythe in sic a fury</div> +<div class="i0">I near-hand cowpit wi' my hurry, <span class="sidenote">upset</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But yet the bauld Apothecary</div> +<div class="i16">Withstood the shock;</div> +<div class="i0">I might as weel hae tried a quarry</div> +<div class="i16">O' hard whin rock.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘E'en them he canna get attended,</div> +<div class="i0">Altho' their face he ne'er had kenn'd it,</div> +<div class="i0">Just sh— in a kail-blade, and send it, <span class="sidenote">cabbage-leaf</span> </div> +<div class="i16">As soon's he smells't,</div> +<div class="i0">Baith their disease, and what will mend it,</div> +<div class="i16">At once he tells't.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘And then a' doctor's saws and whittles,</div> +<div class="i0">Of a' dimensions, shapes, an' mettles,</div> +<div class="i0">A' kinds o' boxes, mugs, an' bottles,</div> +<div class="i16">He's sure to hae;</div> +<div class="i0">Their Latin names as fast he rattles</div> +<div class="i16">As A B C.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘<i>Calces</i> o' fossils, earths, and trees;</div> +<div class="i0">True <i>sal-marinum</i> o' the seas;</div> +<div class="i0">The <i>farina</i> of beans and pease,</div> +<div class="i16">He has't in plenty;</div> +<div class="i0"><i>Aqua-fortis</i>, what you please,</div> +<div class="i16">He can content ye.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Forbye some new uncommon weapons,—<span class="sidenote">Besides</span> </div> +<div class="i0"><i>Urinus spiritus</i> of capons;</div> +<div class="i0">Or mite-horn shavings, filings, scrapings,</div> +<div class="i16">Distill'd <i>per se</i>;</div> +<div class="i0"><i>Sal-alkali</i> o' midge-tail clippings,</div> +<div class="i16">And mony mae.’<span class="sidenote">more</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a> +<div class="i0">‘Wae's me for Johnny Ged's Hole now,’ <span class="sidenote">the grave-digger's</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Quoth I, ‘if that thae news be true!<span class="sidenote">those</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His braw calf-ward whare gowans grew <span class="sidenote">grazing-plot, daisies</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Sae white and bonnie,</div> +<div class="i0">Nae doubt they'll rive it wi' the plew; <span class="sidenote">split</span> </div> +<div class="i16">They'll ruin Johnie!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The creature grain'd an eldritch laugh, <span class="sidenote">groaned, weird</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And says: ‘Ye needna yoke the pleugh,</div> +<div class="i0">Kirk-yards will soon be till'd eneugh,</div> +<div class="i16">Tak ye nae fear;</div> +<div class="i0">They'll a' be trench'd wi' mony a sheugh <span class="sidenote">ditch</span> </div> +<div class="i16">In twa-three year.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Where I kill'd ane, a fair strae-death, <span class="sidenote">straw (<i>i.e.</i>, bed)</span> </div> +<div class="i0">By loss o' blood or want o' breath,</div> +<div class="i0">This night I'm free to tak my aith <span class="sidenote">oath</span> </div> +<div class="i16">That Hornbook's skill</div> +<div class="i0">Has clad a score i' their last claith, <span class="sidenote">cloth</span> </div> +<div class="i16">By drap and pill.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘An honest wabster to his trade, <span class="sidenote">weaver by</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Whase wife's twa nieves were scarce weel-bred, <span class="sidenote">fists</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Gat tippence-worth to mend her head</div> +<div class="i16">When it was sair; <span class="sidenote">aching</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The wife slade cannie to her bed, <span class="sidenote">slid quietly</span> </div> +<div class="i16">But ne'er spak mair.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘A country laird had ta'en the batts, <span class="sidenote">botts</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or some curmurring in his guts, <span class="sidenote">commotion</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His only son for Hornbook sets,</div> +<div class="i16">An' pays him well:</div> +<div class="i0">The lad, for twa guid gimmer-pets, <span class="sidenote">pet-ewes</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Was laird himsel.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a> +<div class="i0">‘A bonnie lass, ye kenn'd her name,</div> +<div class="i0">Some ill-brewn drink had hov'd her wame; <span class="sidenote">raised, belly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">She trusts hersel, to hide the shame,</div> +<div class="i16">In Hornbook's care;</div> +<div class="i0">Horn sent her aff to her lang hame,</div> +<div class="i16">To hide it there.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘That's just a swatch o' Hornbook's way; <span class="sidenote">sample</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thus goes he on from day to day,</div> +<div class="i0">Thus does he poison, kill an' slay,</div> +<div class="i16">An's weel pay'd for't;</div> +<div class="i0">Yet stops me o' my lawfu' prey</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' his damn'd dirt.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘But, hark! I'll tell you of a plot,</div> +<div class="i0">Tho' dinna ye be speaking o't;</div> +<div class="i0">I'll nail the self-conceited sot</div> +<div class="i16">As dead's a herrin':</div> +<div class="i0">Niest time we meet, I'll wad a groat, <span class="sidenote">Next, wager</span> </div> +<div class="i16">He gets his fairin'!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But, just as he began to tell,</div> +<div class="i0">The auld kirk-hammer strak the bell <span class="sidenote">struck</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Some wee short hour ayont the twal, <span class="sidenote">beyond, twelve</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Which rais'd us baith: <span class="sidenote">got us to our feet</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I took the way that pleas'd mysel,</div> +<div class="i16">And sae did Death.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>A few miscellaneous poems remain to be quoted. These do not naturally +fall into any of the major glasses of Burns's work, yet are too +<a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a>important either for their intrinsic worth or the light they throw on +his character and genius to be omitted. The Elegies, of which he wrote +many, following, as has been seen, the tradition founded by Sempill of +Beltrees, may be exemplified by <i><a href="#TAM_SAMSONS_ELEGY">Tam Samson's Elegy</a></i> and that on +Captain Matthew Henderson. Special phases of Scottish patriotism are +expressed in <i><a href="#SCOTCH_DRINK">Scotch Drink</a></i>, and the address <i><a href="#TO_A_HAGGIS">To a Haggis</a></i>; while more +personal is <i><a href="#A_BARDS_EPITAPH">A Bard's Epitaph</a></i>. In this last we have Burns's summing +up of his own character, and it closes with his recommendation of the +virtue he strove after but could never attain.</p> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TAM_SAMSONS_ELEGY" id="TAM_SAMSONS_ELEGY"></a>TAM SAMSON'S ELEGY</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Has auld Kilmarnock seen the deil?</div> +<div class="i0">Or great Mackinlay thrawn his heel? <span class="sidenote">twisted</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or Robertson again grown weel,</div> +<div class="i16">To preach an' read?</div> +<div class="i0">‘Na, waur than a'!’ cries ilka chiel, <span class="sidenote">worse, everybody</span> </div> +<div class="i16">‘Tam Samson's dead!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Kilmarnock lang may grunt an' grane, <span class="sidenote">groan</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' sigh, an' sab, an' greet her lane, <span class="sidenote">weep alone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' cleed her bairns, man, wife, an' wean, <span class="sidenote">clothe, child</span> </div> +<div class="i16">In mourning weed;</div> +<div class="i0">To death, she's dearly paid the kane,—<span class="sidenote">rent in kind</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a> +<div class="i0">The Brethren o' the mystic level</div> +<div class="i0">May hing their head in woefu' bevel, <span class="sidenote">slope</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While by their nose the tears will revel,</div> +<div class="i16">Like ony bead;</div> +<div class="i0">Death's gien the Lodge an unco devel,—<span class="sidenote">stunning blow</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When Winter muffles up his cloak,</div> +<div class="i0">And binds the mire like a rock;</div> +<div class="i0">When to the loughs the curler's flock <span class="sidenote">ponds</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' gleesome speed,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha will they station at the cock? <span class="sidenote">mark</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He was the king o' a' the core <span class="sidenote">gang</span> </div> +<div class="i0">To guard, or draw, or wick a bore,<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></div> +<div class="i0">Or up the rink like Jehu roar</div> +<div class="i16">In time o' need;</div> +<div class="i0">But now he lags on Death's hogscore,<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a>—</div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Now safe the stately sawmont sail, <span class="sidenote">salmon</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And trouts bedropp'd wi' crimson hail,</div> +<div class="i0">And eels weel kent for souple tail,</div> +<div class="i16">And geds for greed, <span class="sidenote">pikes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Since dark in Death's fish-creel we wail</div> +<div class="i16">Tam <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original reads 'Samson'">Samson's</ins> dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a> +<div class="i0">Rejoice, ye birring paitricks a'; <span class="sidenote">whirring partridges</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye cootie moorcocks, crousely craw; <span class="sidenote">leg-plumed, confidently</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye maukins, cock your fud fu' braw, <span class="sidenote">hares, tail</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Withouten dread;</div> +<div class="i0">Your mortal fae is now awa',—</div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">That woefu' morn be ever mourn'd</div> +<div class="i0">Saw him in shootin graith adorn'd, <span class="sidenote">attire</span> </div> +<div class="i0">While pointers round impatient burn'd,</div> +<div class="i16">Frae couples freed;</div> +<div class="i0">But oh! he gaed and ne'er return'd!</div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">In vain auld age his body batters;</div> +<div class="i0">In vain the gout his ancles fetters;</div> +<div class="i0">In vain the burns cam down like waters, <span class="sidenote">brooks, lakes</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An acre braid!</div> +<div class="i0">Now ev'ry auld wife, greeting clatters <span class="sidenote">weeping</span> </div> +<div class="i16">‘Tam Samson's dead!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Owre mony a weary hag he limpit, <span class="sidenote">moss</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' aye the tither shot he thumpit,</div> +<div class="i0">Till coward Death behin' him jumpit</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' deadly feide; <span class="sidenote">feud</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Now he proclaims, wi' tout o' trumpet, <span class="sidenote">blast</span> </div> +<div class="i16">‘Tam Samson's dead!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When at his heart he felt the dagger,</div> +<div class="i0">He reel'd his wonted bottle-swagger,</div> +<div class="i0">But yet he drew the mortal trigger</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' weel-aim'd heed;</div> +<div class="i0">‘Lord, five!’ he cried, an' owre did stagger;</div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a> +<div class="i0">Ilk hoary hunter mourn'd a brither;</div> +<div class="i0">Ilk sportsman youth bemoan'd a father;</div> +<div class="i0">Yon auld grey stane, amang the heather,</div> +<div class="i16">Marks out his head,</div> +<div class="i0">Where Burns has wrote, in rhyming blether, <span class="sidenote">nonsense</span> </div> +<div class="i16">‘Tam Samson's dead!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">There low he lies in lasting rest;</div> +<div class="i0">Perhaps upon his mould'ring breast</div> +<div class="i0">Some spitfu' muirfowl bigs her nest, <span class="sidenote">builds</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To hatch and breed;</div> +<div class="i0">Alas! nae mair he'll them molest!</div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When August winds the heather wave,</div> +<div class="i0">And sportsmen wander by yon grave,</div> +<div class="i0">Three volleys let his memory crave</div> +<div class="i16">O' pouther an' lead, <span class="sidenote">powder</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Till Echo answer frae her cave</div> +<div class="i16">‘Tam Samson's dead!’</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">‘Heav'n rest his saul, where'er he be!’</div> +<div class="i0">Is th' wish o' mony mae than me: <span class="sidenote">more</span> </div> +<div class="i0">He had twa fauts, or maybe three,</div> +<div class="i16">Yet what remead? <span class="sidenote">remedy</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ae social honest man want we: <span class="sidenote">One</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><span class="smcap">the epitaph</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Tam Samson's weel-worn clay here lies:</div> +<div class="i2">Ye canting zealots, spare him!</div> +<div class="i0">If honest worth in heaven rise,</div> +<div class="i2">Ye'll mend ere ye win near him.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a> +<div class="i0"><i>Per Contra</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Go, Fame, an' canter like a filly</div> +<div class="i0">Thro' a' the streets an' neuks o' Killie, <span class="sidenote">nooks</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tell ev'ry social honest billie <span class="sidenote">fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i16">To cease his grievin',</div> +<div class="i0">For yet, unskaith'd by Death's gleg gullie, <span class="sidenote">unharmed, nimble knife</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Tam Samson's livin'!</div> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span> </a> In curling, to <i>guard</i> is to protect one stone by +another in front; to <i>draw</i> is to drive a stone into a good position +by striking it with another; to <i>wick a bore</i> is to hit a stone +obliquely and send it through between two others.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span> </a> The line a curling stone must cross to stay in the +game.</p></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="ELEGY_ON_CAPT_MATTHEW_HENDERSON" id="ELEGY_ON_CAPT_MATTHEW_HENDERSON"></a>ELEGY ON CAPT. MATTHEW HENDERSON,<br /><br /><span class="smcap">A Gentleman Who Held the Patent for His Honours Immediately From +Almighty God</span> </h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Death! thou tyrant fell and bloody!</div> +<div class="i0">The meikle devil wi' a woodie <span class="sidenote">big, gallows-rope</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie <span class="sidenote">Drag, smithy</span> </div> +<div class="i16">O'er hurcheon hides, <span class="sidenote">hedgehog</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And like stock-fish come o'er his studdie <span class="sidenote">anvil</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' thy auld sides!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">He's gane, he's gane! he's frae us torn, <span class="sidenote">gone</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The ae best fellow e'er was born! <span class="sidenote">one</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thee, Matthew, Nature's sel' shall mourn</div> +<div class="i16">By wood and wild,</div> +<div class="i0">Where, haply, Pity strays forlorn,</div> +<div class="i16">Frae man exil'd.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye hills, near neibors o' the starns, <span class="sidenote">stars</span> </div> +<div class="i0">That proudly cock your cresting cairns! <span class="sidenote">mounds</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye cliffs, the haunts of sailing earns, <span class="sidenote">eagles</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Where echo slumbers!</div> +<div class="i0">Come join, ye Nature's sturdiest bairns, <span class="sidenote">children</span> </div> +<div class="i16">My wailing numbers!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a> +<div class="i0">Mourn, ilka grove the cushat kens! <span class="sidenote">each, dove</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye haz'lly shaws and briery dens! <span class="sidenote">woods</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye burnies, wimplin' down your glens, <span class="sidenote">winding</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' toddlin din,</div> +<div class="i0">Or foaming strang wi' hasty stens <span class="sidenote">heaps</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Frae lin to lin. <span class="sidenote">fall</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Mourn, little harebells o'er the lea;</div> +<div class="i0">Ye stately foxgloves fair to see;</div> +<div class="i0">Ye woodbines hanging bonnilie,</div> +<div class="i16">In scented bow'rs;</div> +<div class="i0">Ye roses on your thorny tree,</div> +<div class="i16">The first o' flow'rs.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">At dawn when ev'ry grassy blade</div> +<div class="i0">Droops with a diamond at his head,</div> +<div class="i0">At ev'n when beans their fragrance shed</div> +<div class="i16">I' th' rustling gale,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye maukins, whiddin' thro' the glade, <span class="sidenote">hares, scudding</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Come join my wail.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Mourn, ye wee songsters o' the wood;</div> +<div class="i0">Ye grouse that crap the heather bud; <span class="sidenote">crop</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ye curlews calling thro' a clud; <span class="sidenote">cloud</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Ye whistling plover;</div> +<div class="i0">And mourn, ye whirring paitrick brood—<span class="sidenote">partridge</span> </div> +<div class="i16">He's gane for ever!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Mourn, sooty coots, and speckled teals;</div> +<div class="i0">Ye fisher herons, watching eels;</div> +<div class="i0">Ye duck and drake, wi' airy wheels</div> +<div class="i16">Circling the lake;</div> +<div class="i0">Ye bitterns, till the quagmire reels,</div> +<div class="i16">Rair for his sake. <span class="sidenote">Boom</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a> +<div class="i0">Mourn, clamouring craiks at close o' day, <span class="sidenote">corncrakes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">'Mang fields o' flowering clover gay;</div> +<div class="i0">And, when ye wing your annual way</div> +<div class="i16">Frae our cauld shore,</div> +<div class="i0">Tell thae far warlds wha lies in clay, <span class="sidenote">those</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wham we deplore.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Ye houlets, frae your ivy bow'r <span class="sidenote">owls</span> </div> +<div class="i0">In some auld tree, or eldritch tow'r, <span class="sidenote">haunted</span> </div> +<div class="i0">What time the moon wi' silent <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original reads 'glowr'">glow'r</ins> <span class="sidenote">stare</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Sets up her horn,</div> +<div class="i0">Wail thro' the dreary midnight hour</div> +<div class="i16">Till waukrife morn! <span class="sidenote">wakeful</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O rivers, forests, hills, and plains!</div> +<div class="i0">Oft have ye heard my canty strains; <span class="sidenote">cheerful</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But now, what else for me remains</div> +<div class="i16">But tales of woe?</div> +<div class="i0">And frae my een the drapping rains <span class="sidenote">eyes</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Maun ever flow. <span class="sidenote">Must</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Mourn, Spring, thou darling of the year!</div> +<div class="i0">Ilk cowslip cup shall kep a tear: <span class="sidenote">catch</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou, Simmer, while each corny spear</div> +<div class="i16">Shoots up its head,</div> +<div class="i0">Thy gay green flow'ry tresses shear</div> +<div class="i16">For him that's dead!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou, Autumn, wi' thy yellow hair,</div> +<div class="i0">In grief thy sallow mantle tear!</div> +<div class="i0">Thou, Winter, hurling thro' the air</div> +<div class="i16">The roaring blast,</div> +<div class="i0">Wide o'er the naked warld, declare</div> +<div class="i16">The worth we've lost!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a> +<div class="i0">Mourn him, thou sun, great source of light!</div> +<div class="i0">Mourn, empress of the silent night!</div> +<div class="i0">And you, ye twinkling starnies bright, <span class="sidenote">starlets</span> </div> +<div class="i16">My Matthew mourn!</div> +<div class="i0">For through your orbs he's ta'en his flight,</div> +<div class="i16">Ne'er to return.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Henderson! the man! the brother!</div> +<div class="i0">And art thou gone, and gone for ever?</div> +<div class="i0">And hast thou crost that unknown river,</div> +<div class="i16">Life's dreary bound?</div> +<div class="i0">Like thee, where shall I find another,</div> +<div class="i16">The world around?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Go to your sculptur'd tombs, ye great,</div> +<div class="i0">In a' the tinsel trash o' state!</div> +<div class="i0">But by thy honest turf I'll wait,</div> +<div class="i16">Thou man of worth!</div> +<div class="i0">And weep the ae best fellow's fate</div> +<div class="i16">E'er lay in earth.</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="SCOTCH_DRINK" id="SCOTCH_DRINK"></a>SCOTCH DRINK</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>Gie him strong drink, until he wink,</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>That's sinking in despair;</i></div> +<div class="i0"><i>An' liquor guid to fire his bluid,</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>That's prest wi' grief an' care;</i></div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0"><i>There let him bouse, an' deep carouse,</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>Wi' bumpers flowing o'er,</i></div> +<div class="i0"><i>Till he forgets his loves or debts,</i></div> +<div class="i2"><i>An' minds his griefs no more.</i></div> +</div><p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">Solomon</span> (Proverbs xxxi. 6, 7).</p><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a> +<div class="i0">Let other Poets raise a fracas</div> +<div class="i0">'Bout vines, an' wines, an' drunken Bacchus,</div> +<div class="i0">An' crabbed names an' stories wrack us,</div> +<div class="i16">An' grate our lug; <span class="sidenote">ear</span> </div> +<div class="i0">I sing the juice Scotch bear can mak us, <span class="sidenote">barley</span> </div> +<div class="i16">In glass or jug.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O thou, my Muse! guid auld Scotch Drink,</div> +<div class="i0">Whether thro' wimplin worms thou jink, <span class="sidenote">winding, dodge</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or, richly brown, ream owre the brink, <span class="sidenote">cream</span> </div> +<div class="i16">In glorious faem, <span class="sidenote">foam</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Inspire me, till I lisp an' wink,</div> +<div class="i16">To sing thy name!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Let husky wheat the haughs adorn, <span class="sidenote">flat river-lands</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' aits set up their awnie horn, <span class="sidenote">oats, bearded</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' pease an' beans at een or morn,</div> +<div class="i16">Perfume the plain;</div> +<div class="i0">Leeze me on thee, John Barleycorn, <span class="sidenote">Commend me to</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Thou King o' grain!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">On thee aft Scotland chows her cood, <span class="sidenote">chews, cud</span> </div> +<div class="i0">In souple scones, the wale o' food! <span class="sidenote">soft cakes, choice</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or tumblin' in the boiling flood</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' kail an' beef;</div> +<div class="i0">But when thou pours thy strong heart's blood,</div> +<div class="i16">There thou shines chief.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Food fills the wame, an' keeps us livin'; <span class="sidenote">belly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Tho' life's a gift no worth receivin',</div> +<div class="i16">But, oil'd by thee,</div> +<div class="i0">The wheels o' life gae down-hill, scrievin' <span class="sidenote">careering</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' rattlin' glee.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a> +<div class="i0">Thou clears the head o' doited Lear: <span class="sidenote">muddled Learning</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou cheers the heart o' drooping Care;</div> +<div class="i0">Thou strings the nerves o' Labour sair,</div> +<div class="i16">At's weary toil:</div> +<div class="i0">Thou even brightens dark Despair</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' gloomy smile.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Aft, clad in massy siller weed,</div> +<div class="i0">Wi' gentles thou erects thy head;</div> +<div class="i0">Yet humbly kind, in time o' need,</div> +<div class="i16">The poor man's wine,</div> +<div class="i0">His wee drap parritch, or his bread,</div> +<div class="i16">Thou kitchens fine. <span class="sidenote">makest palatable</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thou art the life o' public haunts;</div> +<div class="i0">But thee, what were our fairs and rants? <span class="sidenote">Without, frolics</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Ev'n godly meetings o' the saunts, <span class="sidenote">saints</span> </div> +<div class="i16">By thee inspir'd,</div> +<div class="i0">When gaping they besiege the tents,</div> +<div class="i16">Are doubly fir'd.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">That merry night we get the corn in!</div> +<div class="i0">O sweetly then thou reams the horn in! <span class="sidenote">foamest</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or reekin' on a New-Year mornin' <span class="sidenote">smoking</span> </div> +<div class="i16">In cog or bicker, <span class="sidenote">bowl, cup</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' just a wee drap sp'ritual burn in, <span class="sidenote">whisky</span> </div> +<div class="i16">An' gusty sucker! <span class="sidenote">tasty sugar</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When Vulcan gies his bellows breath,</div> +<div class="i0">An' ploughmen gather wi' their graith, <span class="sidenote">implements</span> </div> +<div class="i0">O rare to see thee fizz an' freath <span class="sidenote">froth</span> </div> +<div class="i16">I' th' lugged caup! <span class="sidenote">two-eared cup</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Then Burnewin comes on like death <span class="sidenote">The Blacksmith</span> </div> +<div class="i16">At ev'ry chaup. <span class="sidenote">blow</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a> +<div class="i0">Nae mercy, then, for airn or steel; <span class="sidenote">iron</span> </div> +<div class="i0">The brawnie, banie, ploughman chiel, <span class="sidenote">bony, fellow</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Brings hard owre-hip, wi' sturdy wheel,</div> +<div class="i16">The strong forehammer,</div> +<div class="i0">Till block an' studdie ring an' reel <span class="sidenote">anvil</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' dinsome clamour.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When skirlin' weanies see the light, <span class="sidenote">squalling babies</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thou maks the gossips clatter bright</div> +<div class="i0">How fumblin' cuifs their dearies slight—<span class="sidenote">dolts</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wae worth the name!</div> +<div class="i0">Nae Howdie gets a social night, <span class="sidenote">Midwife</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Or plack frae them. <span class="sidenote">small coin</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">When neibors anger at a plea, <span class="sidenote">lawsuit</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' just as wud as wud can be, <span class="sidenote">mad</span> </div> +<div class="i0">How easy can the barley-bree <span class="sidenote">-brew</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Cement the quarrel!</div> +<div class="i0">It's aye the cheapest lawyer's fee</div> +<div class="i16">To taste the barrel.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Alake! that e'er my Muse has reason</div> +<div class="i0">To wyte her countrymen wi' treason; <span class="sidenote">blame</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But mony daily weet their weasan' <span class="sidenote">throat</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Wi' liquors nice,</div> +<div class="i0">An' hardly, in a winter's season,</div> +<div class="i16">E'er spier her price. <span class="sidenote">ask</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Wae worth that brandy, burning trash!</div> +<div class="i0">Fell source o' mony a pain an' brash? <span class="sidenote">illness</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Twins mony a poor, doylt, drucken hash, <span class="sidenote">Robs, stupid, drunken oaf</span> </div> +<div class="i16">O' half his days;</div> +<div class="i0">An' sends, beside, auld Scotland's cash</div> +<div class="i16">To her warst faes.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a> +<div class="i0">Ye Scots, wha wish auld Scotland well,</div> +<div class="i0">Ye chief, to you my tale I tell,</div> +<div class="i0">Poor plackless devils like mysel' <span class="sidenote">penniless</span> </div> +<div class="i16">It sets you ill, <span class="sidenote">becomes</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wi' bitter, dearthfu' wines to mell, <span class="sidenote">meddle</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Or foreign gill.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">May gravels round his blather wrench, <span class="sidenote">ladder</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' gouts torment him, inch by inch,</div> +<div class="i0">Wha twists his gruntle wi' a glunch <span class="sidenote">face, growl</span> </div> +<div class="i16">O' sour disdain,</div> +<div class="i0">Out owre a glass o' whisky punch</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' honest men!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">O Whisky! soul o' plays an' pranks!</div> +<div class="i0">Accept a bardie's gratefu' thanks!</div> +<div class="i0">When wanting thee, what tuneless cranks <span class="sidenote">creakings</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Are my poor verses!</div> +<div class="i0">Thou comes—they rattle i' their ranks</div> +<div class="i16">At ither's arses!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Thee, Ferintosh!<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> O sadly lost!</div> +<div class="i0">Scotland, lament frae coast to coast!</div> +<div class="i0">Now colic-grips an' barkin' hoast <span class="sidenote">cough</span> </div> +<div class="i16">May kill us a';</div> +<div class="i0">For loyal Forbes' charter'd boast</div> +<div class="i16">Is ta'en awa!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a> +<div class="i0">Thae curst horse-leeches o' th' Excise, <span class="sidenote">These</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Wha mak the whisky stells their prize—<span class="sidenote">stills</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Haud up thy hand, deil! Ance—twice—thrice!</div> +<div class="i16">There, seize the blinkers! <span class="sidenote">spies</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' bake them up in brunstane pies <span class="sidenote">brimstone</span> </div> +<div class="i16">For poor damn'd drinkers.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Fortune! if thou'll but gie me still</div> +<div class="i0">Hale breeks, a bannock, and a gill, <span class="sidenote">Whole breeches, oatmeal cake</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' rowth o' rhyme to rave at will, <span class="sidenote">plenty</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Tak' a' the rest,</div> +<div class="i0">An' deal'd about as thy blind skill</div> +<div class="i16">Directs thee best.</div> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span> </a> Forbes of Culloden was given in 1690 liberty to distil +grain at Ferintosh without excise. When this privilege was withdrawn +in 1785, the price of whisky rose—hence Burns's lament.</p></div> + + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="TO_A_HAGGIS" id="TO_A_HAGGIS"></a>TO A HAGGIS</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Fair fa' your honest sonsie face, <span class="sidenote">jolly</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Great chieftain o' the puddin'-race!</div> +<div class="i0">Aboon them a' ye tak your place, <span class="sidenote">Above</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Painch, tripe, or thairm: <span class="sidenote">Paunch, guts</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Weel are ye wordy o' a grace <span class="sidenote">worthy</span> </div> +<div class="i16">As lang's my arm.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The groaning trencher there ye fill,</div> +<div class="i0">Your hurdies like a distant hill; <span class="sidenote">buttocks</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Your pin wad help to mend a mill <span class="sidenote">skewer</span> </div> +<div class="i16">In time o' need;</div> +<div class="i0">While thro' your pores the dews distil</div> +<div class="i16">Like amber bead.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a> +<div class="i0">His knife see rustic Labour dight, <span class="sidenote">wipe</span> </div> +<div class="i0">An' cut you up wi' ready sleight, <span class="sidenote">skill</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Trenching your gushing entrails bright</div> +<div class="i16">Like ony ditch;</div> +<div class="i0">And then, O what a glorious sight,</div> +<div class="i16">Warm-reekin', rich! <span class="sidenote">-smoking</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Then, horn for horn they stretch an' strive, <span class="sidenote">spoon</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,</div> +<div class="i0">Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve <span class="sidenote">well-swelled bellies soon</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Are bent like drums;</div> +<div class="i0">Then auld guidman, maist like to rive, <span class="sidenote">burst</span> </div> +<div class="i16">‘Be-thankit!’ hums.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Is there that o'er his French <i>ragout</i>,</div> +<div class="i0">Or <i>olio</i> that wad staw a sow, <span class="sidenote">sicken</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Or <i>fricassee</i> wad mak her spew</div> +<div class="i16">Wi' perfect sconner, <span class="sidenote"><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: Original has this note on the line below">disgust</ins></span> </div> +<div class="i0">Looks down wi' sneering scornfu' view</div> +<div class="i16">On sic a dinner?</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Poor devil! see him owre his trash,</div> +<div class="i0">As feckless as a wither'd rash, <span class="sidenote">feeble, rush</span> </div> +<div class="i0">His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,</div> +<div class="i16">His nieve a nit: <span class="sidenote">fist, nut</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Thro' bloody flood or field to dash,</div> +<div class="i16">O how unfit!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed—</div> +<div class="i0">The trembling earth resounds his tread!</div> +<div class="i0">Clap in his walie nieve a blade, <span class="sidenote">ample fist</span> </div> +<div class="i16">He'll mak it whissle;</div> +<div class="i0">An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned, <span class="sidenote">crop</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Like taps o' thrissle. <span class="sidenote">thistle</span> </div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a> +<div class="i0">Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care,</div> +<div class="i0">And dish them out their bill o' fare</div> +<div class="i0">Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware <span class="sidenote">watery stuff</span> </div> +<div class="i16">That jaups in luggies; <span class="sidenote">splashes, porringers</span> </div> +<div class="i0">But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer,</div> +<div class="i16">Gie her a Haggis!</div> +</div></div> + +<h3 class="poemname"><a name="A_BARDS_EPITAPH" id="A_BARDS_EPITAPH"></a>A BARD'S EPITAPH</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Is there a whim-inspired fool,</div> +<div class="i0">Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, <span class="sidenote">Too</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool, <span class="sidenote">bashful, cringe</span> </div> +<div class="i16">Let him draw near;</div> +<div class="i0">And owre this grassy heap sing dool, <span class="sidenote">woe</span> </div> +<div class="i16">And drap a tear.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Is there a bard of rustic song,</div> +<div class="i0">Who, noteless, steals the crowds among,</div> +<div class="i0">That weekly this area throng,</div> +<div class="i16">O, pass not by!</div> +<div class="i0">But, with a frater-feeling strong,</div> +<div class="i16">Here heave a sigh.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Is there a man whose judgment clear,</div> +<div class="i0">Can others teach the course to steer.</div> +<div class="i0">Yet runs, himself, life's mad career,</div> +<div class="i16">Wild as the wave;</div> +<div class="i0">Here pause—and, thro' the starting tear,</div> +<div class="i16">Survey this grave.</div> +</div><div class="stanza"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a> +<div class="i0">The poor inhabitant below</div> +<div class="i0">Was quick to learn and wise to know,</div> +<div class="i0">And keenly felt the friendly glow,</div> +<div class="i16">And softer flame;</div> +<div class="i0">But thoughtless follies laid him low,</div> +<div class="i16">And stain'd his name!</div> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">Reader, attend! whether thy soul</div> +<div class="i0">Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,</div> +<div class="i0">Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,</div> +<div class="i16">In low pursuit;</div> +<div class="i0">Know prudent, cautious self-control</div> +<div class="i16">Is wisdom's root.</div> +</div></div> + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><br />CONCLUSION</h2> + + +<p>We have now examined in some detail the main facts of Burns's personal +life and literary production: it is time to sum these up in order to +realize the character of the man and the value of the work.</p> + +<p>Certain fundamental qualities are easily traced to his parentage. The +Burnses were honest, hard-working people, stubborn fighters for +independence, with intellectual tastes above the average of their +class. These characteristics the poet inherited. With all his failures +in worldly affairs, he contrived to pay his debts; however obliged to +friends and patrons for occasional aid, he never abated his +self-respect or became the hanger-on of any man; and he showed +throughout his life an eager, receptive, and ever-expanding mind. The +seed sown by his father with so much pains and care in his early +training fell on fruitful soil, and in the range of his information,<a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a> +as well as in his critical and reasoning powers, Burns became the +equal of educated men. The love of independence, indeed, was less a +family than a national passion. The salient fact in the history of +Scotland is the intensity of the prolonged struggle against the +political domination of England; and there developed in the individual +life of the Scot a corresponding tendency to value personal freedom as +the greatest of treasures. The thrift and economy for which the +Scottish people are everywhere notable, and which has its vicious +excess in parsimony and nearness, is in its more honorable aspects no +end in itself but merely a means to independence. If they are keen to +“gather gear,”</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's no to hide it in a hedge,</div> +<div class="i2">Nor for a train-attendant,</div> +<div class="i0">But for the glorious privilege</div> +<div class="i2">Of being independent.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Along with these substantial and admirable qualities of integrity and +independence Burns inherited certain limitations. In the peasant class +in which he was born and reared, the fierceness of the struggle for +existence has crowded out some of the more beautiful qualities that +need ease and <a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a>leisure for their development. The virtues of chivalry +do indeed at times appear among the very poor, but they are the +characteristic product of a class in which conditions are more +generous, the necessaries of life are taken for granted, and the +elemental demands of human nature are satisfied without competitive +striving. When a peasant is chivalrous he is so by virtue of some +individual quality, and in spite of rather than because of the spirit +of his class. Burns was too acute and too observant not to gather much +from the social ideals of the ladies and gentlemen with whom he came +in contact, and what he gathered affected his conduct profoundly; but +at times under stress of frustrated passion or mortified vanity he +reverted to the ruder manners of the peasantry from which he sprang. +So have to be accounted for certain brutalities in his treatment of +the women who loved him or who had been unwise enough to yield to his +fascination.</p> + +<p>Other characteristics belong to him individually rather than to his +family or class or nation. He was to an extraordinary degree proud and +sensitive. He reacted warmly to kindness, and showed his gratitude +without stint; but he al<a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a>lowed no man to presume upon the obligations +he had conferred. He was very conscious of difference of rank, and +never sought to ignore it, however little he thought it mattered in +comparison with intrinsic merit. But the very degree to which he was +aware of the social gap between him and many of his acquaintances put +him ever on the alert for slights; and when he perceived or imagined +that he had received them, his indignation was sometimes less than +dignified and often excessive. Though he knew that he possessed +uncommon gifts, he was essentially modest in fact as well as in +appearance, and on the whole underestimated his genius.</p> + +<p>He had a warm heart, and in his relations with his equals he was +genial and friendly. His love of his kind manifested itself especially +in his delight in company, a delight naturally heightened by the +enjoyment of the sense of leadership which his superior wit and +brilliance gave him in almost any society. The customs of the time +associated to an unfortunate degree hard drinking with social +intercourse. But more than the whisky he enjoyed the loosening of +self-consciousness and the warmth of conviviality that it brought.</p> +<div class="poem"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">It's no I like to sit an' swallow, <span class="sidenote">not that</span> </div> +<div class="i0">Then like a swine to puke an' wallow;</div> +<div class="i0">But gie me just a true guid fellow <span class="sidenote">give</span> </div> +<div class="i12">Wi' right ingine, <span class="sidenote">wit</span> </div> +<div class="i0">And spunkie ance to mak us mellow, <span class="sidenote">liquor enough</span> </div> +<div class="i12">An' then we'll shine!</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Burns was not a drunkard. He seems to have taken little alone, and in +the houses of some of his more fashionable friends he resented the +pressure to drink more than he wanted. Nor did he allow dissipation to +interfere with his work on the farm, or his duties in the excise. Yet, +even when contemporary manners have received their share of +responsibility, it must be allowed that on the poet's own confession +he drank frequently to excess, and that this abuse had a serious share +in the breakdown of his constitution, weakened as it was by the +excessive toil of his youth.</p> + +<p>He was fond of women, and this passion more than any other has been +the center of the disputes that have raged round his life and +character. Again, contemporary and class customs have to be taken into +account. In spite of the formal disapproval of public opinion and the +censure of the church, the attitude of his class in the end of the +eighteenth century toward such irregulari<a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a>ties as brought Burns and +Jean Armour to the stool of repentance was much less severe than it +would be in this country to-day. Burns himself knew he was culpable, +but the comparative laxity of the standards of the time made it easier +for him to forgive himself, and prompted him to defiance when he +believed himself criticized by puritan hypocrites. Thus in his +utterances we have a curious inconsistency, his feeling ranging from +black remorse and melancholy, through half-hearted excuse and +justification, to swaggering bravado. And none of them makes pleasant +reading.</p> + +<p>But his relations with the other sex were not all of the nature of +sheer passion. He was capable of serious friendship, warm respect, +abject adoration, and a hundred other variations of feeling; and in +several cases he maintained for years, by correspondence and +occasional visits, an intercourse with ladies on which no shadow of a +stain has ever been cast. Such were his relations with Margaret +Chalmers and Mrs. Dunlop. These facts have no controversial bearing, +but they are necessary to be considered if we are to have a complete +view of Burns's relations to society.</p> + +<p>In estimating him as a poet, nothing is lost in<a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a> keeping in mind the +historical relations which have been so strongly emphasized in recent +years. He himself would have been the last to resent being placed in a +national tradition, but, on the contrary, would have been proud to be +regarded as the last and greatest of Scottish vernacular poets. +Patriotic feeling is frequent in his verse; we have seen how +consciously he performed his work for Johnson and Thomson as a service +to his country; and to the “Guidwife of Wauchope House” he professed, +speaking of his youth,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">E'en then, a wish (I mind its pow'r),</div> +<div class="i0">A wish that from my latest hour</div> +<div class="i4">Shall strongly heave my breast,</div> +<div class="i0">That I for poor auld Scotland's sake</div> +<div class="i0">Some usefu' plan or book could make,</div> +<div class="i4">Or sing a sang at least.</div> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent:0;">So in the line of the Scottish “makers” we place him, the inheritor of +the speech of Henryson and Dunbar, of the meters and modes of +Montgomery and the Sempills, Ramsay and Fergusson, the re-creator of +the perishing relics of the lost masters of popular song.</p> + +<p>His relation to his English predecessors need not again be detailed, +so little of value did they contribute to the vital part of his work. +But<a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a> some account should be taken of his connection with the English +literature of his own and the next generation.</p> + +<p>The humanitarian movement was well under way before the appearance of +Burns, and the particular manifestations of it in, for example, the +poems of Cowper on animals, owed nothing to the influence of Burns. +But Cowper's hares never appealed to the popular heart with the force +of Burns's sheep and mice and dogs, and the tender familiarity and +wistful jocoseness of his poems to beasts have never been surpassed. +In writing these he was probably, consciously or unconsciously, +affected by the tendency of the time, as he was also in the democratic +brotherhood of <i><a href="#A_MANS_A_MAN_FOR_A_THAT">A Man's a Man for a' That</a></i>, but, in both cases, as we +have seen, part of the impulse, that part that made his utterance +reach his audience, was derived from his personal intercourse with his +farm stock and from his inborn conviction of the dignity of the +individual. His relations to these elements in the thought and feeling +of his day were, then, reciprocal: they strengthened certain traits in +his personality, and he passed them on to posterity, strengthened in +turn by his moving expression.</p> +<p><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a> +The situation is similar with regard to his connection with the +so-called “return to nature” in English poetry. Historians have +discerned a new era begun in descriptive poetry with Thomson's +<i>Seasons</i>; and in Cowper again, to ignore many intermediates, there is +abundance of faithful portraiture of landscape. But Burns was not +given to set description of their kind, and what he has in common with +them lies in the nature of his detail—the frank actuality of the +images of wind and weather, burn and brae, which form the background +of his human comedy and tragedy. He observed for himself, and he +called things by their own names. In so doing he was once more +following a national tradition, so that he was not “returning” to +nature, since the tradition had never left it; but, on the other hand, +it is reasonable to suppose that Wordsworth, arriving at a somewhat +similar method by a totally different route, found corroboration for +his theories of the simplification needed in the matter and diction of +poetry in the success of the Scottish rustic who showed his youth</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">How Verse may build a princely throne</div> +<div class="i4">On humble truth.</div> +</div></div> +<p style="text-indent:0;"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a> +Wordsworth, of course, like the most distinguished of his romantic +contemporaries, found much in nature that Burns never dreamed of; and +even the faithfulness in detail which Burns shared with these poets +reached a point of subtlety and sensuousness far beyond the reach of +his simple and direct epithets. Nature was to be given in the next +generation a vast and novel variety of spiritual significance. With +all that Burns had nothing to do. He was realist, not romanticist, +though his example operated beneficently and sanely on some of the +romantic leaders.</p> + +<p>Yet in Burns's treatment of nature there is imaginative beauty as well +as humble truth. His language in description, though not mystical or +highly idealized, is often rich in feeling, and his personality was +potent enough to pervade his most objective writing. Thus he ranks +among those who have put lovers of poetry under obligation for a fresh +glimpse of the beauty and meaning of the world around them. This +glimpse is so strongly suggestive of the poet that our delight in it +will largely depend on our sympathy with his temperament; yet now and +again he flashes out a phrase whose imaginative value is absolute, +<a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a>and which makes its appeal without respect to the author:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<div class="i0">The wan moon is setting behind the white wave,</div> +<div class="i4">And time is setting with me, oh!</div> +</div></div> +<p>Apart from the respects in which Burns is the inheritor and perfecter +of the vernacular traditions, and apart from his contact, active or +passive, with the English poets of his time, there is much in his +poetry which is thoroughly his own. It does not lie mainly in his +thinking, robust and shrewd though that is. We perceive in his work no +great individual attitude toward life and society such as we are +impelled to perceive in the work of Goethe; we find no message in it +like the message of Browning. What he does is to bring before us +characters, situations, moods, images, that belong to the permanent +and elemental in our nature. These are presented with a sympathy so +living, a tenderness so poignant, a humor so arch and so sly, that +they become a part of our experience in the most delightful and +exhilarating fashion. Part of the function of poetry is to prevent us +from becoming sluggish In our contemplation of life by making us feel +it fresh, vivid, pulsing; and this Burns notably ac<a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a>complishes. +Coleridge's image of wetting the pebble to bring out its color and +brilliance is peculiarly apt in the case of Burns; for it was the +common if not the commonplace that he dealt with, and his workmanship +made it sparkle like a jewel.</p> + +<p>In the long run the value of an author depends on two factors, the +nature of his insight and his power of expression. Burns's insight +into his own nature was deep and on the whole just, and that nature +was itself rich enough to teach him much. He found there the great +struggle between impulse and will—fiery, surging impulse and a +stubborn will. This experience, illuminated by a lively imagination, +gave him a sympathetic understanding of extraordinary range, extending +from the domestic troubles of the royal family and the perplexities of +the prime minister to the precarious adventures of a louse. His +insight into external nature blended the weather wisdom of the +ploughman with the poet's sensitiveness to the harmony or discord of +wind and sky with the moods of humanity.</p> + +<p>For the expression of all this he had an instrument that did not +reach, it is true, to the great tragic tones of Shakespeare nor to the +deli<a name="Page_322" id="Page_322"></a>cate and filmy subtleties of Shelley. But he could utter pathos +almost intolerably piercing, and overwhelming remorse; gaiety as fresh +and inspiriting as the song of a lark; roistering mirth; keen irony; +and a thousand phases of passion. This he did in a verse of amazing +variety—sometimes tender and caressing; sometimes rushing like a +torrent.</p> + +<p>Finally, it must be insisted again, in that aspect in which he is most +nearly supreme, the writing of songs, he is musician as well as poet. +Though he made no tunes, he saved hundreds; saved them not merely for +the antiquary and the connoisseur but for the great mass of lovers of +sweet and simple melody; saved them by marrying them to fit and +immortal words. It is for this most of all that Scotland and the world +love Burns.</p> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + + + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<h2><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> +<table class="az" border="1" summary="Alphabetic jump-table for the index"> + <tr> + <td><a href="#IX_A">A</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_B">B</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_C">C</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_D">D</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_E">E</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_F">F</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_G">G</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_H">H</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_I">I</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_J">J</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_K">K</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_L">L</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_M">M</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><a href="#IX_N">N</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_O">O</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_P">P</a></td> + <td>Q</td> + <td><a href="#IX_R">R</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_S">S</a></td> + <td><a href="#IX_T">T</a></td> + <td>U</td> + <td>V</td> + <td><a href="#IX_W">W</a></td> + <td>X</td> + <td><a href="#IX_Y">Y</a></td> + <td>Z</td> + </tr> +</table> +<ul> +<li><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a> +<a name="IX_A" id="IX_A"></a> +<i><a href="#A_MANS_A_MAN_FOR_A_THAT">A Man's a Man for a' That</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_LOVE_IS_LIKE_A_RED_RED_ROSE">A Red, Red Rose</a></i>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL">Address to the Deil</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS">Address to the Unco Guid</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.</li> +<li><i>Adventures of Telemachus</i>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#AE_FOND_KISS">Ae Fond Kiss</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_56">56</a>-57, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li><i>Æneid</i> (Douglas's), <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#AFTON_WATER">Afton Water</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</li> +<li>Ainslie, Robert, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li> +<li><a href="#SECTION1">Alloway</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a> ff.</li> +<li>Animals, Burns's feeling for, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</li> +<li>Armour, James, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-39.</li> +<li>Armour, Jean, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>-39, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>.</li> +<li>Arnold, Matthew, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#AULD_LANG_SYNE">Auld Lang Syne</a></i>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</li> +<li>Auld Lichts, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#AULD_ROB_MORRIS">Auld Rob Morris</a></i>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_B" id="IX_B"></a> +Bachelor's Club, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#BANNOCKS_O_BARLEY">Bannocks o' Barley</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_165">165</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#A_BARDS_EPITAPH">Bard's Epitaph, A</a></i>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_308">308</a>.</li> +<li>Beattie, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li>Beethoven, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</li> +<li>Begbie, Ellison, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>-23, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#BESSY_AND_HER_SPINNIN-WHEEL">Bessy and Her Spinnin'-Wheel</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_145">145</a>.</li> +<li>Biography, Official, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li> +<li>Blacklock, Doctor, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.</li> +<li>Blair, Doctor, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li>Blair Athole, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li> +<li>Boar's Head Tavern, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#BONNIE_LESLEY">Bonnie Lesley</a></i>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#BRAW_BRAW_LADS">Braw Braw Lads</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_140">140</a>.</li> +<li>Brow-on-Solway, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</li> +<li>Browning, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</li> +<li>Burnes, William, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>-8.</li> +<li>Burns, Agnes (Brown), <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li> +<li>Burns, Gilbert, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>-6, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</li> +<li><p style="margin:0 0 0 2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:justify;">Burns, Robert, his career: autobiographical letter, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>-2; parentage +and early life, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>-23; schooling, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>-8, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>; reading, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>-8, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>-19; +study of French, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>; folk-lore, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>; overwork, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>; first song, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>;<a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a> +flax-dressing, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>; early love-affairs, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>; Mossgiel, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>-44; +Elizabeth Paton, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>-35; Jean Armour, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>-36; Mary Campbell (Highland +Mary), <a href="#Page_36">36</a>-37; West Indian project, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-39; Elizabeth Miller, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>; +Kilmarnock edition, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-38; disciplined by the church, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>-39; +Edinburgh, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>-56; early reviews, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>; Edinburgh edition, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>-50; +southern tour, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>; Highland tours, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>-51; Mrs. McLehose, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>-58; +marriage, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>; Ellisland, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>-62; Excise, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>-65; Dumfries, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>-68; +politics, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-65; work for Johnson and Thomson, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>-66, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>-98; +whisky, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>-67, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>; illness and death, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>-67.</p></li> +<li>Burns and music, <a href="#Page_9">9</a> ff.</li> +<li>Burns's method of composition, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>-112.</li> +<li>Burns's stanza, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_C" id="IX_C"></a> +<i><a href="#CA_THE_YOWES">Ca' the Yowes</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.</li> +<li>Campbell, Mary, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>-37, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>. See Highland Mary.</li> +<li><i>Canterbury Tales</i>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>.</li> +<li>Chalmers, Margaret, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#CHARLIE_HES_MY_DARLING">Charlie He's My Darling</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_168">168</a>.</li> +<li>Chaucer, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>.</li> +<li>Chloris (Jean Lorimer), <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.</li> +<li><i>Choice Collection</i> (Watson's), <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</li> +<li>Clarinda (Mrs. McLehose), <a href="#Page_52">52</a>-58.</li> +<li><i><a href="#CLARINDA">Clarinda</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</li> +<li>Cockburn, Mrs., <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> +<li>Coleridge, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#COME_BOAT_ME_OER_TO_CHARLIE">Come Boat Me O'er to Charlie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#COMIN_THROUGH_THE_RYE">Comin' through the Rye</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li> +<li><i>Complete Letter-Writer</i>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#CONTENTED_WI_LITTLE">Contented wi' Little</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_126">126</a>.</li> +<li>Conviviality, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</li> +<li><i>Corn Rigs</i>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>.</li> +<li>Cowper, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>.</li> +<li>Crabbe, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</li> +<li><i>Craigieburn-wood</i>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</li> +<li>Creech, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.</li> +<li>Currie, Doctor, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_D" id="IX_D"></a> +Dalrymple, James, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Dalrymple School, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</li> +<li>Davidson, Betty, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#DEATH_AND_DOCTOR_HORNBOOK">Death and Doctor Hornbook</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_287">287</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_DEATH_AND_DYING_WORDS_OF_POOR_MAILIE_THE_AUTHORS_ONLY_PET_YOWE">Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie</a></i>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> +<li><i>Dedication to Gavin Hamilton</i>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>-186.</li> +<li>Descriptive poetry, <a href="#Page_206">206</a> ff., <a href="#Page_264">264</a> ff.</li> +<li><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a> +Dick, J.C., <a href="#Page_91">91</a>-92, note.</li> +<li>Dodsley, Robert, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li>Douglas, Gavin, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</li> +<li>Dramatic lyrics, <a href="#Page_128">128</a> ff.</li> +<li>Drummond of Hawthornden, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>.</li> +<li>Dumfries, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>-68.</li> +<li>Dunbar, William, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#DUNCAN_DAVISON">Duncan Davison</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#DUNCAN_GRAY">Duncan Gray</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_152">152</a>.</li> +<li>Dunlop, Mrs. <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_E" id="IX_E"></a> +Edinburgh, Burns in, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>-56.</li> +<li><i>Edinburgh Magazine</i>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Elegies, <a href="#Page_294">294</a> ff.</li> +<li><i><a href="#ELEGY_ON_CAPT_MATTHEW_HENDERSON">Elegy on Capt. Matthew Henderson</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_298">298</a>.</li> +<li>Ellisland, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>-62.</li> +<li>English poems of Burns, <a href="#Page_73">73</a> ff.</li> +<li>Epigrams, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_A_YOUNG_FRIEND">Epistle to a Young Friend</a></i>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_200">200</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#EPISTLE_TO_DAVIE_A_BROTHER_POET">Epistle to Davie</a></i>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</li> +<li><i>Epistle to James Smith</i>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>.</li> +<li><i>Epistle to John Goldie</i>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</li> +<li><i>Epistle to John Rankine</i>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_THE_REV_JOHN_MMATH">Epistle to McMath</a></i>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>.</li> +<li><i>Epistle to William Simpson</i>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>.</li> +<li>Epistles, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a> ff.</li> +<li>Epitaphs, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</li> +<li>Erskine, Hon. Henry, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</li> +<li>Excise service, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>-65.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_F" id="IX_F"></a> +<i>Farmer's Ingle</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</li> +<li>Ferguson, Dr. Adam, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Fergusson, Robert, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Fisher, William, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>.</li> +<li>Flax-dressing experiment, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</li> +<li>Flint, Christina, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#FOR_THE_SAKE_O_SOMEBODY">For the Sake o' Somebody</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_136">136</a>.</li> +<li>Freemasons, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li> +<li>French Revolution, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-64.</li> +<li><i>From thee, Eliza, I must go</i>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_G" id="IX_G"></a> +Gaelic, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>.</li> +<li>Gibson, Nancy, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>.</li> +<li>Glencairn, Lord, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li> +<li>Glenriddel Manuscript, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#GO_FETCH_TO_ME_A_PINT_O_WINE">Go Fetch to me a Pint o' Wine</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_88">88</a>.</li> +<li>Goethe, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</li> +<li>Goldsmith, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a> +Gordon, Duchess of, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li> +<li>Graham of Fintry, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</li> +<li>Gray, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#GREEN_GROW_THE_RASHES">Green Grow the Rashes</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li> +<li>Grose, Captain, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_H" id="IX_H"></a> +<i><a href="#HAD_I_THE_WYTE">Had I the Wyte?</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#HALLOWEEN">Halloween</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.</li> +<li>Hamilton, Gavin, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</li> +<li>Hamilton of Gilbertfield, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#HANDSOME_NELL">Handsome Nell</a></i>: quoted <a href="#Page_20">20</a>; criticized by Burns, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>-22, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li><i>Happy Beggars</i>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</li> +<li>Haydn, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</li> +<li>Henderson, Captain Matthew, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>.</li> +<li>Henryson, Robert, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Heroic couplet in Burns, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#HIGHLAND_MARY">Highland Mary</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_113">113</a>-116.</li> +<li>Highland Mary, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>-37, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> +<li><i>History of the Bible</i>, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>.</li> +<li>Hogg, James, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#HOLY_WILLIES_PRAYER">Holy Willie's Prayer</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_173">173</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#HOW_LANG_AND_DREARY">How Lang and Dreary</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</li> +<li><i>Humble Petition of Bruar Water</i>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li> +<li>Hume, David, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_I" id="IX_I"></a> +<i><a href="#THE_BLUE-EYED_LASSIE">I Gaed a Waefu' Gate</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#I_HAE_A_WIFE">I Hae a Wife</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_59">59</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#I_HAE_BEEN_AT_CROOKIEDEN">I Hae Been at Crookieden</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_167">167</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#IM_OWRE_YOUNG_TO_MARRY_YET">I'm Owre Young to Marry Yet</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_143">143</a>.</li> +<li>Independence, Scottish love of, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>.</li> +<li>Irvine, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#IT_WAS_A_FOR_OUR_RIGHTFU_KING">It Was a' for our Rightfu' King</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_J" id="IX_J"></a> +Jacobite Songs, <a href="#Page_161">161</a> ff.</li> +<li>Jacobitism, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#JOHN_ANDERSON_MY_JO">John Anderson, my Jo</a></i>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li> +<li>Johnson, James, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_K" id="IX_K"></a> +<i><a href="#KENMURES_ON_AND_AWA">Kenmure's On and Awa</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_165">165</a>.</li> +<li>Kilmarnock Edition. <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-39.</li> +<li>Kilpatrick, Nelly, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> +<li>Kirk of Scotland, Opposition to, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</li> +<li>Kirkoswald, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>.</li> +<li><i>Kirkyard Eclogues</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</li> +<li>Knox, John, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>.</li> +<li>Kozeluch, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_L" id="IX_L"></a><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a> +La Fontaine, <a href="#Page_272">272</a>.</li> +<li><i>Laddie Lie Near Me</i>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>.</li> +<li><i>Lament for the Earl of Glencairn</i>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li> +<li>Language of Burns, <a href="#Page_69">69</a> ff.</li> +<li><i><a href="#LASSIE_WI_THE_LINT-WHITE_LOCKS">Lassie wi' the Lint-white Locks</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</li> +<li><i>Last Dying Words of Bonny Heck</i>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#LAST_MAY_A_BRAW_WOOER">Last May a Braw Wooer</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.</li> +<li><i>Last Speech of a Wretched Miser</i>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li> +<li><i>Leith Races</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</li> +<li>Lewars, Jessie, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>.</li> +<li>Lindesay, Sir David, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>.</li> +<li>Lindsay, Lady Anne, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> +<li>Lochlea, <a href="#Page_5">5</a> ff.</li> +<li><i>London Monthly Review</i>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Lorimer, Jean (Chloris), <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</li> +<li><i>Lounger, The</i>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li> +<li>Lowland Scots, <a href="#Page_69">69</a> ff.</li> +<li><i>Lucky Spence's Last Advice</i>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_M" id="IX_M"></a> +Mackenzie, Henry, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MACPHERSONS_FAREWELL">Macpherson's Farewell</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.</li> +<li>McGill, Doctor, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</li> +<li>McLehose, Mrs., <a href="#Page_52">52</a>-58.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MARY_MORISON">Mary Morison</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_28">28</a>.</li> +<li>Mauchline, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li> +<li><i>Merry Beggars</i>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</li> +<li>Miller, Elizabeth, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</li> +<li>Milton, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MONTGOMERIES_PEGGY">Montgomerie's Peggy</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_120">120</a>.</li> +<li>Montgomery, Alexander, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Moore, Dr. John: <a href="#Page_5">5</a>; letter to, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>-2, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>.</li> +<li>Mossgiel, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>-44.</li> +<li>Mount Oliphant, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>-5.</li> +<li>Murdoch, John, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>-17, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>-91.</li> +<li>Murray, Sir William, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li> +<li>Muse, jocular treatment of his, <a href="#Page_203">203</a> ff.</li> +<li>Music, Burns's knowledge of, <a href="#Page_90">90</a> ff.</li> +<li>Music and song, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>-170, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_FATHER_WAS_A_FARMER">My Father was a Farmer</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_126">126</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_HEARTS_IN_THE_HIGHLANDS">My Heart's in the Highlands</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_140">140</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_LOVE_SHES_BUT_A_LASSIE_YET">My Love She's but a Lassie Yet</a></i>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_LOVE_IS_LIKE_A_RED_RED_ROSE">My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose</a></i>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_102">102</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_NANNIES_AWA">My Nannie's Awa</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_57">57</a>-58, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_NANNIE_O">My Nannie O</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_29">29</a>-30, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#MY_WIFES_A_WINSOME_WEE_THING">My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_N" id="IX_N"></a> +Nairne, Lady, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>.</li> +<li>Nature in Burns, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</li> +<li>New Lichts, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</li> +<li>Nicol, William, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul> +<li><a name="IX_O" id="IX_O"></a><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a> +<i><a href="#O_FOR_ANE_AN_TWENTY_TAM">O, For Ane an' Twenty, Tam!</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#O_MERRY_HAE_I_BEEN">O Merry Hae I Been</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#O_THIS_IS_NO_MY_AIN_LASSIE">O This is No my Ain Lassie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_107">107</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#O_WERT_THOU_IN_THE_CAULD_BLAST">O, Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast</a></i>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#OF_A_THE_AIRTS">Of a' the Airts</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#ON_A_SCOTCH_BARD_GONE_TO_THE_WEST_INDIES">On a Scotch Bard, Gone to the West Indies</a></i>, quoted, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>-44.</li> +<li><i>On Seeing a Wounded Hare</i>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#OPEN_THE_DOOR_TO_ME_O">Open the Door to me, O!</a></i> quoted <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_P" id="IX_P"></a> +Park, Anne, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> +<li>Paton, Elizabeth, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.</li> +<li>Peasant characteristics of Burns, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>.</li> +<li>Percy, Bishop, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</li> +<li><i>Planestanes and Causey</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</li> +<li>Pleyel, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</li> +<li>Politics, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>-65.</li> +<li><i><a href="#POOR_MAILIES_ELEGY">Poor Mailie's Elegy</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_26">26</a>-27.</li> +<li><i><a href="#POORTITH_CAULD">Poortith Cauld</a></i>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_107">107</a>.</li> +<li>Poosie Nansie, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>.</li> +<li>Pope, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li> +<li><i>Practical Essay on the Death of Jesus Christ</i>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#A_PRAYER_IN_THE_PROSPECT_OF_DEATH">Prayer in the Prospect of Death</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_R" id="IX_R"></a> +Ramsay, Allan, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Ramsay of Ochtertyre, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>.</li> +<li>Realism, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</li> +<li>Reformation, influence of, <a href="#Page_95">95</a> ff.</li> +<li><i>Reliques of Ancient English Poetry</i>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</li> +<li>Richmond, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Riddel, Col. Robert, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_S" id="IX_S"></a> +Satires and Epistles, <a href="#Page_171">171</a> ff.</li> +<li>Scenery in Burns, <a href="#Page_265">265</a> ff.</li> +<li><i><a href="#SCOTCH_DRINK">Scotch Drink</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_301">301</a>.</li> +<li><i>Scots Musical Museum</i>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#SCOTS_WHA_HAE">Scots, Wha Hae</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</li> +<li>Scott, Alexander, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</li> +<li>Scott, Sir Walter, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>-48, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>-162.</li> +<li>Scottish Dialect, <a href="#Page_69">69</a> ff.</li> +<li>Scottish Folk-song, <a href="#Page_96">96</a> ff.</li> +<li>Scottish Literature, <a href="#Page_78">78</a> ff.</li> +<li>Scottish Song, <a href="#Page_90">90</a> ff.</li> +<li>Sea in Scottish poetry, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>-265.</li> +<li>Seasons, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</li> +<li><i>Select Collection of Original Scottish Airs</i>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>.</li> +<li>Sempills, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Shaftesbury, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>.</li> +<li>Shakespeare, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</li> +<li><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a> +Shelley, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>.</li> +<li>Shenstone, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li>Sibbald, James, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#SIMMERS_A_PLEASANT_TIME">Simmer's a Pleasant Time</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li> +<li>Smith, Adam, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</li> +<li>Sterne, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>.</li> +<li>Stewart, Dugald, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</li> +<li>Stirling, Alexander, Earl of, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>.</li> +<li>Stuart-Menteath, Sir James, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_T" id="IX_T"></a> +<i><a href="#TAM_GLEN">Tam Glen</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TAM_O_SHANTER">Tam o' Shanter</a></i>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>-257, quoted <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TAM_SAMSONS_ELEGY">Tam Samson's Elegy</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_294">294</a>.</li> +<li><i>Tea Table Miscellany</i>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_AULD_FARMERS_NEW-YEAR_MORNING_SALUTATION_TO_HIS_AULD_MARE">The Auld Farmer's New-Year Morning Salutation</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_278">278</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Banks of Helicon</i>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_BLUE-EYED_LASSIE">The Blue-eyed Lassie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_117">117</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_BONNIE_LAD_THATS_FAR_AWA">The Bonnie Lad that's Far Awa</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Brigs of Ayr</i>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Cherry and the Slae</i>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_COTTERS_SATURDAY_NIGHT">The Cotter's Saturday Night</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_8">8</a>-15, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, criticized <a href="#Page_207">207</a> ff., <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_DEATH_AND_DYING_WORDS_OF_POOR_MAILIE_THE_AUTHORS_ONLY_PET_YOWE">The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_23">23</a>-25.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_DEILS_AWA_WI_TH_EXCISEMAN">The Deil's Awa wi' th' Exciseman</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_DEUKS_DANG_OER_MY_DADDIE">The Deuk's Dang o'er my Daddie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Gazetteer</i>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Gentle Shepherd</i>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_GLOOMY_NIGHT">The Gloomy Night</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_40">40</a>-41, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_HIGHLAND_BALOU">The Highland Balou</a></i>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_151">151</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_HIGHLAND_LADDIE">The Highland Laddie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_HOLY_FAIR">The Holy Fair</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_228">228</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_JOLLY_BEGGARS">The Jolly Beggars</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>-241, quoted <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Kirk's Alarm</i>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Lass of Cessnock Banks</i>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_LEA-RIG">The Lea-Rig</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_120">120</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Man of Feeling</i>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Ordination</i>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Piper of Kilbarchan</i>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_POETS_WELCOME_TO_HIS_LOVE-BEGOTTEN_DAUGHTER">The Poet's Welcome to his Love-begotten Daughter</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_33">33</a>-35.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_RANTIN_DOG_THE_DADDIE_OT">The Rantin' Dog the Daddie o't</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_RIGS_O_BARLEY">The Rigs o' Barley</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_TWA_DOGS">The Twa Dogs</a></i>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Twa Herds</i>, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>.</li> +<li><i>The Vision</i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THE_WEARY_PUND_O_TOW">The Weary Pund o' Tow</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#THERELL_NEVER_BE_PEACE_TILL_JAMIE_COMES_HAME">There'll Never be Peace</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.</li> +<li><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332"></a> +<i><a href="#THERE_WAS_A_LAD">There was a Lad</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_125">125</a>.</li> +<li>Thomson, George, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_169">169</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li>Thomson, James, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_A_HAGGIS">To a Haggis</a></i>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_306">306</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_A_LOUSE">To a Louse</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_274">274</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_A_MOUNTAIN_DAISY">To a Mountain Daisy</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_276">276</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_A_MOUSE">To a Mouse</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_272">272</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_DAUNTON_ME">To Daunton Me</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_MARY_IN_HEAVEN">To Mary in Heaven</a></i>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_114">114</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_DEIL">To the Deil</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.</li> +<li><i>To the Guidwife of Wauchope House</i>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#TO_THE_REV_JOHN_MMATH">To the Rev. John McMath</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_181">181</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#ADDRESS_TO_THE_UNCO_GUID_OR_THE_RIGIDLY_RIGHTEOUS">To the Unco Guid</a></i>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_W" id="IX_W"></a> +<i>Wallace, History of Sir William</i>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#WANDERING_WILLIE">Wandering Willie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</li> +<li>Watson, James, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>.</li> +<li>West Indies, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>-39.</li> +<li><i><a href="#WHA_IS_THAT_AT_MY_BOWER_DOOR">Wha is that at my Bower Door?</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#WHAT_CAN_A_YOUNG_LASSIE">What Can a Young Lassie</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#WHISTLE_AND_ILL_COME_TO_YE_MY_LAD">Whistle and I'll Come to Thee, my Lad</a></i>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#WILL_YE_GO_TO_THE_INDIES_MY_MARY">Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary</a></i>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#WILLIE_BREWD_A_PECK_O_MAUT">Willie Brew'd a Peck o' Maut</a></i>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, quoted <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#WILLIES_WIFE">Willie's Wife</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</li> +<li>Wilson, John (Dr. Hornbook), <a href="#Page_287">287</a>.</li> +<li><i>Winter, a Dirge</i>, <a href="#Page_266">266</a>.</li> +<li><i>Winter Night, A</i>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</li> +<li>Women, Burns and, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>.</li> +<li>Wordsworth, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>.</li> +</ul> +<ul><li><a name="IX_Y" id="IX_Y"></a> +<i><a href="#YE_BANKS_AND_BRAES">Ye Banks and Braes</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_130">130</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li> +<li><i><a href="#YESTREEN_I_HAD_A_PINT_O_WINE">Yestreen I had a Pint o' Wine</a></i>, quoted <a href="#Page_104">104</a>-105, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> +<li>Young, Dr., <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> +</ul> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Robert Burns, by William Allan Neilson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROBERT BURNS *** + +***** This file should be named 18388-h.htm or 18388-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/8/18388/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Laura Wisewell and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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