And gane, alas! the shelt'ring tree, May He, who gives the rain to pour, May He, the friend of woe and want, But late she flourish'd, rooted fast, Blest be thy bloom, thou lovely gem, 3 TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, On turning one down with the plough, in April, 1780. WEE, modest, crimson-tippéd flower, For I maun crush amang the stoure* Thy slender stem; To spare thee now is past my power, Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet! When upward-springing, blythe, to greet Cauld blew the bitter-biting North 1 Acute pains.-2 Unhurt.—3 Small.-4 Dust.-5 Not.—6 Wet, wetness. Yet cheerfully thou glinted' forth Amid the storm, Scarce rear'd above the parent earth The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, O' clod or stane, Adorns the histies stibble-field, Unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, In humble guise; But now the share up-tears thy bed, Such is the fate of artless Maid, And guileless trust, Such is the fate of simple Bard, Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, Such fate to suffering worth is given, To mis'ry's brink, Till wrenched of ev'ry stay but Heaven, Even thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, : Peeped.-2 Shelter.-3 Dry, chapt, barren. Stern Ruin's plough-share drives, elate, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, TO A MOUSE, On turning her up in her nest, with the plough, November, 1785. 2 WEE, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie, Oh, what a panic's in thy breastie! Wi' bick'rin' brattle!" I wad be laith" to rin an' chase thee, I'm truly sorry man's dominion Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion, I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve: 'S a sma' request: I'll get a blessing wi' the lave,9 And never miss 't. Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! An' bleak December's wins ensuin', Baith snell13 and keen! 1 When Burns first arrived in Edinburgh, the "Lounger," a weekly paper, edited by Henry Mackenzie, Esq., author of the "Man of Feeling," was in course of publication. In that periodical a whole number (the "Lounger for Saturday, December 9, 1786") was devoted to "An account of Robert Burns, the Ayrshire ploughman," in which were given the address "To a Mountain Daisy," and an extract from the "Vision," as specimens of his poetry. 9 2 Sleek.-3 Cowering.-4 A short race.-5 Loth.-6 Plough-staff.—7 An ear of corn now and then.-8 A shock of corn. The rest.-10 Winds.-11 To build.-12 Aftergrass.-13 Bitter, biting. Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, An' cozie1 here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell, Till, crash! the cruel coulter pass'd That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, To thole1 the winter's sleety dribble, But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane, And lea'e us naught but grief and pain, Still thou art blest, compared wi' me! An' forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an' fear.8 LINES ON SCARING SOME WATER-FOWL IN LOCH-TURIT, A wild scene among the hills of Ouchtertyre. WHY, ye tenants of the lake, For me your watery haunt forsake? 1 Snugly.-2 Without.-3 Hold, home.-4 To endure.-5 The hoar frost6 Not alone.-7 Off the right time. 8 "The verses to the Mouse, and Mountain Daisy, were composed on the occasions mentioned, and while the author was holding the plough.”—Gilbert Burns. Parent, filial, kindred ties,- The eagle from the cliffy brow, But Man, to whom alone is given And life's poor season peaceful spend. Dare invade your native right, Man with all his powers you scorn; 14 |