ON THE LATE MISS BURNET, OF MONBODDO.
LIFE ne'er exulted in so rich a prize
As Burnet, lovely from her native skies;
Nor envious death so triumph'd in a blow,
As that which laid the accomplish'd Burnet low.
Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget?
In richest ore the brightest jewel set!
In thee, high Heaven above was truest shown,
As by his noblest work the Godhead best is known.
In vain ye flaunt in summer's pride, ye groves;
Thou crystal streamlet with thy flowery shore,
Ye woodland choir that chant your idle loves,
Ye cease to charm-Eliza is no more!
Ye heathy wastes, immix'd with reedy fens;
Ye mossy streams, with sedge and rushes stor'd;
Ye rugged cliffs o'erhanging dreary glens,
To you I fly, ye with my soul accord.
Princes, whose cumbrous pride was all their worth,
Shall venal lays their pompous exit hail?
And thou, sweet excellence! forsake our earth,
And not a Muse in honest grief bewail?
We saw thee shine in youth and beauty's pride,
And virtue's light, that beams beyond the spheres ;
But like the sun eclips'd at morning tide,
Thou left'st us darkling in a world of tears.
The parent's heart that nestled fond in thee,
That heart how sunk, a prey to grief and care!
So deckt the woodbine sweet yon aged tree,
So from it ravish'd, leaves it bleak and bare.
LETTER TO JAMES TAIT, GLENCONNAR.
AULD Comrade dear and brither sinner,
How's a' the folk about Glenconnar?
How do you this blae eastlin win',
That's like to blaw a body blin'?
For me, my faculties are frozen,
My dearest member nearly dozen'.
I've sent you here by Johnie Simson,
Twa sage philosophers to glimpse on :
Smith, wi' his sympathetic feeling,
And Reid, to common sense appealing.
Philosophers have fought and wrangled,
And meikle Greek and Latin mangled,
Till wi' their logic-jargon tir'd,
And in the depth of Science mir'd,
To common sense they now appeal,
What wives and wabsters see and feel.
But, hark ye, friend, I charge you strictly,
Peruse them, and return them quickly,
For now I'm grown so cursed douce,
pray and ponder butt the house.
My shins, my lane, I there sit roastin',
Perusing Bunyan, Brown, and Boston;
Till by and by, if I haud on,
I'll grunt a real Gospel-groan :
Already I begin to try it,
To cast my een up like a pyet,
When by the gun she tumbles o'er,
Flutt'ring and gasping in her gore :
Sae shortly you shall see me bright,
A burning and a shining light.
My heart-warm love to guid auld Glen,
The ace and wale of honest men :
When bending down wi' auld grey hairs,
Beneath the load of years and cares,
May he who made him still support him,
And views beyond the grave comfort him.
His worthy fam❜ly far and near,
God bless them a' wi' grace and gear!
My auld school-fellow, Preacher Willie,
The manly tar, my mason Billie,
And Auchenbay, I wish him joy!
If he's a parent, lass or boy,
May he be dad, and Mag the mither,
Just five-and-forty years thegither!
And not forgetting wabster Charlie,
I'm tauld he offers very fairly.
And Lord, remember singing Sannock,
Wi' hale-breeks, saxpence, and a bannock.
And next, my auld acquaintance, Nancy,
Since she is fitted to her fancy;
And her kind stars hae airted till her
A good chiel wi' a pickle sillar.
My kindest, best respects I sen' it,
To cousin Kate and sister Janet;
Tell them frae me, wi' chiels be cautious,
For, faith, they'll aiblins fin' them fashious:
To grant a heart is fairly civil,
But to grant a maidenhead's the devil.-
And lastly, Jamie, for yoursel,
May guardian angels tak a spell,
And steer you seven miles south o' hell:
But first, before you see heav'n's glory,
May ye get monie a merry story,
Monie a laugh, and monie a drink,
And aye eneugh o' needfu' clink.
Now fare ye weel, and joy be wi' you,
For my sake this I beg it o' you,
Assist poor Simson a' ye can,
Ye'll fin' him just an honest man;
Sae I conclude and quat my chanter.
Yours, saint or sinner,
INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HON. C. J. FOX.
How wisdom and folly meet, mix, and unite;
How virtue and vice blend their black and their white; How genius, th' illustrious father of fiction,
Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction-
I sing if these mortals, the critics, should bustle,
I care not, not I, let the critics go whistle.
But now for a Patron, whose name and whose glory
At once may illustrate and honour my story.
Thou first of our orators, first of our wits:
Yet whose parts and acquirements seem mere lucky hits;
With knowledge so vast, and with judgment so strong,
No man with the half of 'em e'er went far wrong;
With passions so potent, and fancies so bright,
No man with the half of 'em e'er went quite right:
A sorry, poor, misbegot son of the Muses,
For using thy name, offers fifty excuses.
Good Lord, what is man! for as simple he looks,
Do but try to develope his hooks and his crooks;
With his depths and his shallows, his good and his evil,
All in all he's a problem must puzzle the devil.
On his one ruling passion sir Pope hugely labours,
That, like th' old Hebrew walking-switch, eats up its neign
Mankind are his show-box-a friend, would you know him?
Pull the string, ruling passion the picture will show him.
What pity, in rearing so beauteous a system,
One trifling particular, truth, should have miss'd him,
For, spite of his fine theoretic positions,
Mankind is a science defies definitions.
Some sort all our qualities each to its tribe,
And think human nature they truly describe;
Have found this, or t'other, there's more in the wind
As by one drunken fellow his comrades you'll find.
But such is the flaw, or the depth of the plan,
In the make of the wonderful creature, call'd Man,
No two virtues, whatever relation they claim,
Nor even two different shades of the same,
Though like as was ever twin brother to brother,
Possessing the one shall imply you've the other.
ELLISLAND, 21st Oct. 1789.
Wow, but your letter made me vauntie!
And are ye hale, and weel, and cantie?
I kenn'd it still your wee bit jauntie
Wad bring ye to;
Lord send you aye as weel's I want ye,
And then ye'll do.
The ill-thief blaw the Heron south!
And never drink be near his drouth!
* The exertions of this gentleman in favour of Burns prevented his exiling himself to America at the commencement of his
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