Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro' life I'm doom'd to wander, O,

Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber, O; No view nor care, but shun whate'er might breed me pain or sorrow, O,

I live to-day as well's I may, regardless of to-morrow, O.

But cheerful still, I am as well as a monarch in a palace, O.

Tho' Fortune's frown still hunts me down, with all her wonted malice, O;

I make indeed my daily bread, but ne'er can make it farther, O;

But, as daily bread is all I need, I do not much regard her, O.

When sometimes by my labour I earn a little money, O, Some unforeseen misfortune comes generally upon me, O— Mischance, mistake, or by neglect, or my good-natur'd folly, O;

But come what will, I've sworn it still, I'll ne'er be melancholy, O.

All you who follow wealth and power with unremitting ardour, O,

The more in this you look for bliss, you leave your view the farther, O;

Had you the wealth Potosi boasts, or nations to adore you, O,

A cheerful honest-hearted clown I will prefer before you, O.

The stress laid upon that part of Burns's production which has relation, near or remote, 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.

O FOR ANE AN' TWENTY, TAM!

An' O for ane an' twenty, Tam!

An' hey, sweet ane an' twenty, Tam!

I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang,

An' I saw ane an' twenty, Tam.

They snool me sair, and haud me down,
An' gar me look like bluntie, Tam!
But three short years will soon wheel roun',
An' then comes ane an' twenty, Tam.

teach

If

snub, sorely, hold make, a fool

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose

Frae off its thorny tree:

But my fause luver staw my rose,

And left the thorn wi' me.

(Third Version)

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,

How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds,

And I sae weary fu' o' care?

Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn;
Thou minds me o' departed joys,

Departed never to return.

Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,

To see the rose and woodbine twine;

And ilka bird sang o' its love,

And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,

Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;

And my fause lover staw my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

SIMMER'S A PLEASANT TIME

Simmer's a pleasant time,

Flow'rs of ev'ry colour;

The water rins o'er the heugh,

And I long for my true lover.

stole

stole

crag

take care gate, ajar then

Go, fly

glance

WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YE, MY LAD

O whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad;
O whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad:
Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad,
O whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad.

But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back-stile, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin' to me.
And come as ye were na comin' to me.

At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as tho' that ye car'd na a flee:
But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e,
Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.
Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.