25 When wolves and tigers howl for prey 30 And there the lion's ruddy eyes Shall flow with tears of gold: 35 And pitying the tender cries, And walking round the fold: Saying: 'Wrath by His meekness, And by His health, sickness, 40 45 Are driven away From our immortal day. 'And now beside thee, bleating lamb, Or think on Him who bore thy name, For wash'd in life's river, As I guard o'er the fold.' TO THE DIVINE IMAGE (From the same) To mercy, pity, peace, and love, Return their thankfulness. 5 For mercy, pity, peace, and love Is God our Father dear; 10 And mercy, pity, peace, and love, For Mercy has a human heart, And Love, the human form divine; Then every man, of every clime, 20 And all must love the human form, ON ANOTHER'S SORROW (From the same) Can I see another's woe, 5 Can I see a falling tear, Can a mother sit and hear, 10 An infant groan, an infant fear? No, no! never can it be! Never, never can it be! And can He, who smiles on all, Hear the wren, with sorrow small, 15 Hear the small bird's grief and care, Hear the woes that infants bear? And not sit beside the nest, Pouring Pity in their breast, And not sit the cradle near, 20 Weeping tear on infant's tear? And not sit both night and day, 25 He doth give His joy to all: Think not thou canst sigh a sigh, 30 And thy Maker is not by: Think not thou canst weep a tear, Oh! He gives to us His joy, That our griefs He may destroy. 35 Till our grief is fled and gone He doth sit by us and moan. THE TIGER (From The Songs of Experience, 1794) Tiger, Tiger, burning bright 5 In what distant deeps or skies Burned that fire within thine eyes? On what wings dared he aspire? What the hand dared seize the fire? And what shoulder, and what art, 10 Could twist the sinews of thy heart? When thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet? What the hammer, what the chain, Knit thy strength and forged thy brain? 15 What the anvil? What dread grasp Dared thy deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water'd heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? 20 Did He who made the lamb make thee? AH! SUNFLOWER (From the same) Ah! Sunflower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden prime Where the traveller's journey is done; 5 Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale virgin shrouded in snow, Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go! Robert Burns (1759–1796) THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT (1785) "Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, 5 10 15 My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend! With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The native feelings strong, the guileless ways, What Aiken in a cottage would have been; Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there I ween! November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh; The short'ning winter-day is near a close; The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose: This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. |