[Notes]

the cat; rat soul; clutch

salt

IV

Then that curst carmagnole, Auld Satan,
Watches, like baudrons by a ratton,

Our sinfu' saul to get a claut on

Wi' felon ire;

Syne, whip! his tail ye'll ne'er cast saut on—
He's aff like fire.

send us wild

Then

weft

Ah Nick! Ah Nick! it is na fair,
First showing us the tempting ware,
Bright wines and bonie lasses rare,
To put us daft;

Syne weave, unseen, thy spider snare

O' Hell's damned waft!

itches

certain

VI

Poor Man, the flie, aft bizzes by,
And aft, as chance he comes thee nigh,
Thy damn'd auld elbow yeuks wi' joy
And hellish pleasure,

Already in thy fancy's eye

Thy sicker treasure!

topsy-turvy

tongs [for singeing]

VII

Soon, heels o'er gowdie, in he gangs,
And, like a sheep-head on a tangs,

Thy girnin laugh enjoys his pangs

And murdering wrestle,

As, dangling in the wind, he hangs

A gibbet's tassle.

VIII

But lest you think I am uncivil

grinning

To plague you with this draunting drivel,
Abjuring a' intentions evil,

tedious

I quat my pen :

quit

The Lord preserve us frae the Devil!

Amen! Amen!

TO MISS JESSIE LEWARS

THINE be the volumes, Jessie fair,
And with them take the Poet's prayer:
That Fate may in her fairest page,
With ev'ry kindliest, best presage
Of future bliss enrol thy name;
With native worth, and spotless fame,
And wakeful caution, still aware
Of ill-but chief Man's felon snare!
All blameless joys on earth we find,
And all the treasures of the mind-
These be thy guardian and reward!
So prays thy faithful friend, the Bard.
ROBERT BURNS.

June 26th, 1796

INSCRIPTION

WRITTEN ON THE BLANK LEAF OF A COPY OF THE LAST EDITION OF MY POEMS, PRESENTED TO THE LADY WHOM, IN SO MANY FICTITIOUS REVERIES OF PASSION, BUT WITH THE MOST ARDENT SENTIMENTS OF REAL FRIENDSHIP, I HAVE SO OFTEN SUNG UNDER THE NAME OF CHLORIS

I

"TIs Friendship's pledge, my young, fair Friend,

Nor thou the gift refuse;

Nor with unwilling ear attend

The moralising Muse.

II

Since thou in all thy youth and charms

Must bid the world adieu

(A world 'gainst peace in constant arms),

To join the friendly few;

III

Since, thy gay morn of life o'ercast,

Chill came the tempest's lour (And ne'er Misfortune's eastern blast Did nip a fairer flower);

IV

Since life's gay scenes must charm no more:

Still much is left behind,

Still nobler wealth hast thou in store

The comforts of the mind!

V

Thine is the self-approving glow
Of conscious honor's part;
And (dearest gift of Heaven below)
Thine Friendship's truest heart;

VI

The joys refin'd of sense and taste,
With every Muse to rove :

And doubly were the Poet blest,
These joys could he improve.

Une Bagatelle de l'Amitié

COILA

THEATRICAL PIECES

PROLOGUE

SPOKEN BY MR. WOODS ON HIS BENEFIT NIGHT,
MONDAY, 16TH APRIL, 1787

WHEN by a generous Public's kind acclaim
That dearest need is granted-honest fame;
When here your favour is the actor's lot,
Nor even the man in private life forgot;
What breast so dead to heavenly Virtue's glow
But heaves impassion'd with the grateful throe?

Poor is the task to please a barb'rous throng:
It needs no Siddons's powers in Southern's song.
But here an ancient nation, fam'd afar
For genius, learning high, as great in war.
Hail, Caledonia, name for ever dear!
Before whose sons I'm honor'd to appear!
Where every science, every nobler art,

That can inform the mind or mend the heart,
Is known (as grateful nations oft have found),
Far as the rude barbarian marks the bound!