TO A LADY, WITH A PRESENT OF A PAIR OF DRINKING-GLASSES. [To Mrs. M'Lehose, of Edinburgh, the poet presented the drinking-glasses alluded to in the verses: they are, it seems, still preserved, and the lady on occasions of high festival indulges, it is said, favourite visiters with a draught from them of "The blood of Shiraz' scorched vine."] FAIR Empress of the Poet's soul, And Queen of Poetesses; And fill them high with generous juice, And pledge me in the generous toast— "To those who love us !"-second fill; Lest we love those who love not us!- TO CLARINDA. [This is the lady of the drinking-glasses; the Mrs. Mac of many a toast among the poet's acquaintances. She was, in those days, young and beautiful, and we fear a little giddy, since she indulged in that sentimental and platonic flirtation with the poet, contained in the well-known letters to Clarinda. The letters, after the poet's death, appeared in print without her permission: she obtained an injunction against the publication, which still remains in force, but her anger seems to have been less a matter of taste than of whim, for the injunction has been allowed to slumber in the case of some editors, though it has been enforced against others.] CLARINDA, mistress of my soul, The measur'd time is run! To what dark cave of frozen night We part-but, by these precious drops No other light shall guide my steps Till thy bright beams arise. She, the fair sun of all her sex, VERSES WRITTEN UNDER THE PORTRAIT OF FERGUSSON, THE POET, IN A COPY OF THAT AUTHOR'S WORKS PRESENTED TO A YOUNG LADY. [Who the young lady was to whom the poet presented the portrait and Poems of the illfated Fergusson, we have not been told. The verses are dated Edinburgh, March 19th, 1787.] CURSE on ungrateful man, that can be pleas'd, PROLOGUE SPOKEN BY MR. WOODS ON HIS BENEFIT NIGHT, MONDAY, 16 APRIL, 1787. [The Woods for whom this Prologue was written, was in those days a popular actor in Edinburgh. He had other claims on Burns: he had been the friend as well as comrade of poor Fergusson, and possessed some poetical talent. He died in Edinburgh, December 14th, 1802.] WHEN by a generous Public's kind acclaim, Poor is the task to please a barbarous throng, Here holds her search by heaven-taught Reason's beam, O Thou dread Power! whose Empire-giving hand Bold may she brave grim Danger's loudest roar, 1 The Man of Feeling, by Mackenzie. SKETCH. [This Sketch is a portion of a long Poem which Burns proposed to call "The Poet's Progress." He communicated the little he had done, for he was a courter of opinions, to Dugald Stewart. "The Fragment forms," said he, "the postulata, the axioms, the definition of a character, which, if it appear at all, shall be placed in a variety of lights. This particular part I send you. merely as a sample of my hand at portrait-sketching." It is probable that the professor's response was not favourable, for we hear no more of the Poem.] A LITTLE, upright, pert, tart, tripping wight, Still making work his selfish craft must mend. TO MRS. SCOTT, OF WAUCHOPE. [The lady to whom this epistle is addressed was a painter and a poetess: her pencil sketches are said to have been beautiful; and she had a ready skill in rhyme, as the verses addressed to Burns fully testify. Taste and poetry belonged to her family: she was the niece of Mrs. Cockburn, authoress of a beautiful variation of The Flowers of the Forest.] I MIND it weel in early date, When I was beardless, young and blate, An' first could thresh the barn, Or haud a yokin at the pleugh; Could rank my rig and lass, Still shearing, and clearing, The tither stooked raw, E'en then, a wish, I mind its pow'r, The rough burr-thistle, spreading wide I turn'd the weeder-clips aside, My envy e'er could raise, But still the elements o' sang She rous'd the forming strain: At every kindling keek, Health to the sex, ilk guid chiel Is rapture-giving woman. says, |