So he took his wings and fled; Soon my angel came again: ROBERT BURNS. 1759-1796. [ROBERT BURNS was born 25th January, 1759 “the hindmost year but ane" of George the Second's reign, in a cottage built by his father, two miles south of Ayr, and close to Alloway Kirk, that relic of nondescript architecture to which his genius has lent almost as worldwide an interest as that which makes Vaucluse a place of pilgrimage to all nations. Eldest son of William Burness, of a Kincardineshire family of small farmers, market gardener and overseer of a small estate in the neighborhood of Ayr, and afterwards tenant of Lochlie and Mount Oliphant, small Ayrshire farms, Burns received an education which ultimately included a sound acquaintance with English grammar, a little mathematics, mensuration, Freach, and a smattering of Latin. At work on his father's farm from an early age till he was twenty-three, he tried then to establish himself in business as a flax-dresser in Irvine, but returned in a short time to his father's house with empty pockets and with a character hitherto blameless deteriorated by some new companionships. After the death of his father, a specimen of industry and integrity never rewarded in this life, his brother Gilbert and he took the farm of Mossgiel near Mauchline (1784), which also turned out to be a bad bargain. To escape troubles in which his youthful and characteristic follies involved him, especially with the father of his future partner in life, "Bonie Jean," he accepted an appointment to a clerkship in Jamaica; but on the point of starting on the voyage he had his footsteps turned towards Edinburgh by the success of his volume of poems (Kilmarnock, 1786), and by the patronage, literary and aristocratic, which it immediately secured for him. With the proceeds of a second edition of the volume (Edinburgh, 1737), amounting to £500 or 600, he established himself on the farm of Ellisland near Dumfries. Unsuccessful once more in this tenancy he became an exciseman to eke out his income, and finally in that capacity, unfortunately both for his health and for his repu tation, removed to Dumfries, where he died in 1796.] How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary! O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly! But still keep something to yoursel But keek1 thro' ev'ry other man, The sacred lowe2 o' weel-placed love, But never tempt th' illicit rove, Tho' naething should divulge it; To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip, Let that aye be your border; The great Creator to revere, Must sure become the creature; Yet ne'er with wits profane to range, Adieu, dear amiable Youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting! May prudence, fortitude, and truth, Erect your brow undaunting! In ploughman phrase, "God send you speed," Still daily to grow wiser; And may you better reck the rede,1 O MY LUVE'S LIKE A RED, RED ROSE. O MY Luve's like a red, red rose That's sweetly play'd in tune. Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only Luve! And fare thee weel a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile. AULD LANG SYNE. SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne? Chorus. For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. 1 heed the counsel. |