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"I've seen sae mony changefu' years,
On earth I am a stranger grown:
I wander in the ways
of men,

Alike unknowing, and unknown:
Unheard, unpitied, unreliev'd,
I bear alane my lade o' care,
For silent, low, on beds of dust,
Lie a' that would my sorrows share.

"And last, (the sum of a' my griefs!)
My noble master lies in clay;

The flow'r amang our barons bold,
His country's pride, his country's stay:
weary being now I pine,


For a' the life of life is dead,
And hope has left my aged ken,
On forward wing for ever fled.

"Awake thy last sad voice, my harp!
The voice of woe and wild despair!
Awake, resound thy latest lay,

Then sleep in silence evermair!
And thou, my last, best, only friend,
That fillest an untimely tomb,
Accept this tribute from the Bard

Thou brought from Fortune's mirkest gloom.

"In Poverty's low barren vale,

Thick mists obscure involv'd me round;
Though oft I turn'd the wistful eye,

Nae ray
of fame was to be found:
Thou found'st me, like the morning sun
That melts the fogs in limpid air,
The friendless bard and rustic song
Became alike thy fostering care.

"O! why has worth so short a date,
While villains ripen grey with time?
Must thou, the noble, gen'rous, great,
Fall in bold manhood's hardy prime !

Why did I live to see that day

A day to me so full of woe?
O! had I met the mortal shaft
That laid my benefactor low!

"The bridegroom may forget the bride
Was made his wedded wife yestreen;
The monarch may forget the crown
That on his head an hour has been;
The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,

And a' that thou hast done for me!"1

Lines to Sir John Whitefoord, Bart.2
THOU, who thy honor as thy God rever❜st,

Who, save thy mind's reproach, nought earthly fear'st,
To thee this votive offering I impart,

The tearful tribute of a broken heart.8

The Friend thou valued'st, I, the Patron lov'd;

His worth, his honour, all the world approved:

We'll mourn till we too go as he has gone,

And tread the shadowy path to that dark world unknown.

Craigieburn Wood.5

SWEET closes the ev'ning on Craigieburn Wood,
And blythely awaukens the morrow;

But the pride o' the spring in the Craigieburn Wood
Can yield me nought but sorrow.

1 Burns originally wrote "But I'll remember good Glencairn;" the Earl's sister suggested "great" in place of good"; thee was proposed by Miss Leslie Baillie.



2 Verses sent with the Elegy on Glencairn.

3 In the original MS. these lines read :

Witness the ardour of this votive lay, With streaming eyes and throbbing heart I pay.

The printed version (Edinburgh,

1793) has "dreary," for which the poet gave instructions to substitute "shadowy."

This song was composed on & passion which a Mr Gillespie, a particular friend of mine, had for a Miss Lorimer, afterwards Mrs Whelpdale. The young lady was born at Craigieburn Wood. The chorus is part of an old, foolish ballad.-R.B.—The heroine, Jean Lorimer, was afterwards Burns's "Chloris."


Chorus.-Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie,
And O to be lying beyond thee!

O sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep
That's laid in the bed beyond thee!

I see the spreading leaves and flowers,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But pleasure they hae nane for me,
While care my heart is wringing.
Beyond thee, &c.

I can na tell, I maun na tell,
I daur na for your anger;
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.
Beyond thee, &c.

I see thee gracefu', straight and tall,
I see thee sweet and bonie ;
But oh, what will my torment be,
If thou refuse thy Johnie!
Beyond thee, &c.

To see thee in another's arms,
In love to lie and languish,
"Twad be my dead, that will be seen,
My heart wad burst wi' anguish.
Beyond thee, &c.

But Jeanie, say thou wilt be mine,
Say thou lo'es nane before me;
And a' my days o' life to come
I'll gratefully adore thee,
Beyond thee, &c.

The bonie wee Thing.1 Chorus.-Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing, Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel it should tine.

1 She was a Miss Deborah Davies.

WISHFULLY I look and languish
In that bonie face o' thine,

And my heart it stounds wi' anguish,
Lest my wee thing be na mine.

Bonie wee thing, &c.

Wit and Grace, and Love, and Beauty,

In ae constellation shine;

To adore thee is my duty,

Goddess o' this soul o' mine!

Bonie wee thing, &c.

Epigram on Miss Davies,1

On being asked why she had been formed so little, and Mrs A- so big.

ASK why God made the gem so small?
And why so huge the granite ?-
Because God meant mankind should set
That higher value on it.

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Each eye, it cheers when she appears,
Like Phoebus in the morning,

When past the shower, and every flower
The garden is adorning :

As the wretch looks o'er Siberia's shore,
When winter-bound the wave is;

Sae droops our heart, when we maun part
Frae charming, lovely Davies.

Her smile's a gift frae 'boon the lift,
That maks us mair than princes;
A sceptred hand, a king's command,
Is in her darting glances;

The man in arms 'gainst female charms
Even he her willing slave is,

He hugs his chain, and owns the reign
Of conquering, lovely Davies.

My Muse to dream of such a theme,
Her feeble powers surrender:
The eagle's gaze alone surveys
The sun's meridian splendour.

I wad in vain essay the strain,
The deed too daring brave is;
I'll drap the lyre, and mute admire
The charms o' lovely Davies.

What can a Young Lassie do wi' an
Auld Man.1

WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,
What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man?
Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie
To sell her puir Jenny for siller an' lan'!

Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie
To sell her puir Jenny for siller an' lan'.

1 What, indeed? Lines for Music.


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