Thro' a long life his hopes and wishes crown;
And bright in cloudless skies his sun go down:
May bliss domestic smooth his private path;
Give energy to life; and soothe his latest breath,
With many a filial tear circling the bed of death!
ON RECEIVING A FAVOR.
I CALL no goddess to inspire my strains,
A fabled muse may suit a bard that feigns;
Friend of my life! my ardent spirit burns,
And all the tribute of my heart returns,
For boons accorded, goodness ever new,
The gift still dearer, as the giver you.
Thou orb of day! thou other paler light!
And all ye many sparkling stars of night!
If aught that giver from my mind efface;
If I that giver's bounty e'er disgrace;
Then roll to me, along your wandering spheres,
Only to number out a villain's years!
TO MRS. DUNLOP,
ON NEW-YEAR'S DAY.
THIS day, Time winds the exhausted chain,
To run the twelvemonth's length again:
I see the old bald-pated fellow,
With ardent eyes, complexion sallow,
Adjust the unimpair'd machine,
To wheel the equal, dull routine.
The absent lover, minor heir,
In vain assail him with their prayer;
Deaf as my friend, he sees them press,
Nor makes the hour one moment less.
Will you (the Major's with the hounds,
The happy tenants share his rounds;
Coila 's fair Rachel's care to-day,'
1 This young lady was drawing a picture of Coila, from the "Vision."
And blooming Keith's engaged with Gray)
From housewife cares a minute borrow,
(That grandchild's cap will do to-morrow)
And join with me a-moralizing?
This day's propitious to be wise in.
First, what did yesternight deliver? "Another year is gone forever."
And what is this day's strong suggestion?
"The passing moment's all we rest on!"
Rest on-for what? what do we here?
Or why regard the passing year?
Will Time, amused with proverb'd lore,
Add to our date one minute more?
A few days may-a few years must-
Repose us in the silent dust.
Then is it wise to damp our bliss?
Yes-all such reasonings are amiss!
The voice of nature loudly cries,
And many a message from the skies,
That something in us never dies;
That on this frail uncertain state,
Hang matters of eternal weight;
That future life, in worlds unknown,
Must take its hue from this alone;
Whether as heavenly glory bright,
Or dark as misery's woeful night.
Since, then, my honor'd first.of friends, On this poor being all depends;
Let us the important now employ,
And live as those that never die.
Tho' you, with days and honors crown'd, Witness that filial circle round,
(A sight life's sorrows to repulse,
A sight pale envy to convulse,)
Others now claim your chief regard;
Yourself, you wait your bright reward.
TO THE SAME,
ON SENSIBILITY.
SENSIBILITY, how charming,
Thou, my friend, canst truly tell;
But distress with horrors arming,
Thou hast also known too well;
Fairest flower, behold the lily,
Blooming in the sunny ray:
Let the blast sweep o'er the valley;
See it prostrate on the clay.
Hear the wood-lark charm the forest,
Telling o'er his little joys:
Hapless bird! a prey the surest,
To each pirate of the skies.
Dearly bought the hidden treasure
Finer feelings can bestow;
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure,
Thrill the deepest notes of woe!
I LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend,
A something to have sent you,
Tho' it should serve nae other end
Than just a kind memento.
But how the subject-theme may gang,
Let time and chance determine;
Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.
Ye'll try the world-soon, my lad,
And, Andrew dear, believe me,
Ye 'll find mankind an unco2 squad,
And muckle they may grieve ye:
‹ Mr. A. A. Aikin, now of Liverpool, the son of Robert Aikin, Esq.—2 Uncouth, untoward.
For care and trouble set your thought,
E'en when your end 's attain'd;
And a' your views may come to naught,
When every nerve is strain'd.
I'll no say, men are villains a';
The real, harden'd wicked,
Wha hae nae check but human law,
Are to a few restricked :1
But, och! mankind are unco' weak,
An' little to be trusted;
If self the wavering balance shake,
It's rarely right adjusted!
Yet they wha fa' in Fortune's strife,
Their fate we should na censure,
For still the important end of life,
They equally may answer:
A man may hae an honest heart,
Tho' poortith3 hourly stare him;
A man may tak a neebor's part,
Yet hae nae cash to spare him.
Ay free aff han' your story tell,
When wi' a bosom cronie:
But still keep something to yoursel
Ye scarcely tell to onie.
Conceal yoursel as weel 's ye can,
Frae critical dissection;
But keek* thro' every other man,
Wi' sharpen'd sly inspection.
The sacred lowe o' weel-placed love,
Luxuriantly indulge it:
But never tempt the illicit rove,
Tho' naething should divulge it:
I wave the quantum o' the sin,
The hazard of concealing;
But, och! it hardens a' within,
And petrifies the feeling!
1 Restricted. In the use of this word, in common with many other English words, Burns has perhaps taken more than a poet's liberty with the orthography, in order to accommodate his rhyme.
2 Very.--3 Poverty.-4 Peep into, or scrutinize.-5 Flame.
To catch dame Fortune's golden smile,
Assiduous wait upon her;
And gather gear by every wile
That's justified by honor:
Not for to hide it in a hedge,
Nor for a train-attendant;
But for the glorious privilege
Of being independent.
The fear o' hell's a hangman's whip
To haud the wretch in order;
But where ye feel your honor grip,1
Let ay that be your border:
Its slightest touches, instant pause-
Debar a' side pretences;
And resolutely keep its laws,
Uncaring consequences.
The great Creator to revere,
Must sure become the creature;
But still the preaching cant forbear,
And even the rigid feature:
Yet ne'er with wits profane to range,
Be complaisance extended;
An atheist's laugh's a poor exchange
For Deity offended!
When ranting round in pleasure's ring,
Religion may be blinded;
Or if she gie a random sting,
It may be little minded:
But when on life we 're tempest driven,
A conscience but a canker-
A correspondence fix'd wi' Heaven,
Is sure a noble anchor.
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,"
Than ever did the adviser!
1 Pinch.-2 Take heed, or pay due attention to good advice.
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