s: Where have you been, old lady?  We know your secret!--


s: Voices jangle about her, jeers, and laughter. . . .


s: She trembles, tries to hurry, averts her eyes.


s: Tell us the truth, old lady! where have you been?


s: She turns and turns, her brain grows dark with cries.


s: Look at the old fool tremble!  She's been paying,--


s: Paying good money, too,--to talk to spirits. . . .


s: She thinks she's heard a message from one dead!


s: What did he tell you?  Is he well and happy?


s: Don't lie to us--we all know what he said.


s: He said the one he murdered once still loves him;


s: He said the wheels in wheels of time are broken;


s: And dust and storm forgotten; and all forgiven. . . .


s: But what you asked he wouldn't tell you, though,--


s: Ha ha! there's one thing you will never know!


s: That's what you get for meddling so with heaven!


s: Where have you been, old lady?  Where are you going?


s: We know, we know!  She's been to gab with spirits.


s: Look at the old fool! getting ready to cry!


s: What have you got in an envelope, old lady?


s: A lock of hair?  An eyelash from his eye?


s: How do you know the medium didn't fool you?


s: Perhaps he had no spirit--perhaps he killed it.


s: Here she comes! the old fool's lost her son.


s: What did he have--blue eyes and golden hair?


s: We know your secret! what's done is done.


s: Look out, you'll fall--and fall, if you're not careful,


s: Right into an open grave. . . but what's the hurry?


s: You don't think you will find him when you're dead?


s: Cry!  Cry!  Look at her mouth all twisted,--


s: We know you--know your name and all about you,


s: All you remember and think, and all you scheme for.


s: We tear your secret out, we leave you, go


s: Laughingly down the street. . . . Die, if you want to!


s: Die, then, if you're in such a hurry to know!--


s: . . . . She falls.  We lift her head.  The wasted body


s: Weighs nothing in our hands.  Does no one know her?


s: Was no one with her when she fell? . . .


s: We eddy about her, move away in silence.


s: Well, as you say, we live for small horizons:


s: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together,


s: Seeing so many eyes and hands and faces,


s: So many mouths, and all with secret meanings,--


s: The small bright circle of our consciousness,


s: Beyond which lies the dark.  Some few we know--


s: Or think we know. . .  Once, on a sun-bright morning,


s: I walked in a certain hallway, trying to find


s: A certain door: I found one, tried it, opened,


s: And there in a spacious chamber, brightly lighted,


s: A hundred men played music, loudly, swiftly,


s: While one tall woman sent her voice above them


s: In powerful sweetness. . . . Closing then the door


s: I heard it die behind me, fade to whisper,--


s: And walked in a quiet hallway as before.


s: Just such a glimpse, as through that opened door,


s: Is all we know of those we call our friends. . . .


s: Of ordered thoughts--and all again is silence.


s: The music, we suppose, (as in ourselves)


s: Goes on forever there, behind shut doors,--


s: So, we divine, it played before we came . . .


s: What do you know of me, or I of you? . . .


s: Little enough. . . . We set these doors ajar


s: This passage, (so I think--yet this is guesswork)


s: Will please him,--it is in a strain he fancies,--


s: More brilliant, though, than his; and while he likes it


s: He will be piqued . . . He looks at me bewildered


s: And thinks (to judge from self--this too is guesswork)


s: The music strangely subtle, deep in meaning,


s: Perplexed with implications; he suspects me


s: Of hidden riches, unexpected wisdom. . . .


s: Or else I let him hear a lyric passage,--


s: Simple and clear; and all the while he listens


s: I make pretence to think my doors are closed.


s: This too bewilders him.  He eyes me sidelong


s: Or only mocking?'--There I let it end. . . .


s: Sometimes, of course, and when we least suspect it--


s: When we pursue our thoughts with too much passion,


s: Talking with too great zeal--our doors fly open


s: Without intention; and the hungry watcher


s: Stares at the feast, carries away our secrets,


s: And laughs. . . . but this, for many counts, is seldom.


s: And for the most part we vouchsafe our friends,


s: Our lovers too, only such few clear notes


s: 'Praise me for this' we say, or 'laugh at this,'


s: Or 'marvel at my candor'. . . . all the while


s: Withholding what's most precious to ourselves,--


s: Some sinister depth of lust or fear or hatred,


s: The sombre note that gives the chord its power;


s: Or a white loveliness--if such we know--


s: Too much like fire to speak of without shame.


s: Well, this being so, and we who know it being


s: So curious about those well-locked houses,


s: The minds of those we know,--to enter softly,


s: And steal from floor to floor up shadowy stairways,


s: From room to quiet room, from wall to wall,


s: Pressing our hands and nerves against warm darkness


s: Suppose for once I set my doors wide open


s: And bid you in. . . . Suppose I try to tell you


s: The secrets of this house, and how I live here;


s: Suppose I tell you who I am, in fact. . . .


s: Deceiving you--as far as I may know it--


s: Which falls on all things with a quivering magic,


s: Changing such outlines as a light may change,


s: Brightening what lies dark to me, concealing


s: Those things that will not change . . . I walk sustained


s: In a world of things that flatter me: a sky


s: Just as I would have had it; trees and grass


s: Just as I would have shaped and colored them;


s: Pigeons and clouds and sun and whirling shadows,


s: And stars that brightening climb through mist at nightfall,--


s: In some deep way I am aware these praise me:


s: Where they are beautiful, or hint of beauty,


s: They point, somehow, to me. . . . This water says,--


s: Rippled in blue, or sending from cool depths


s: To meet the falling leaf the leaf's clear image,--


s: This water says, there is some secret in you


s: Akin to my clear beauty, silently responsive


s: To all that circles you.  This bare tree says,--


s: Austere and stark and leafless, split with frost,


s: Resonant in the wind, with rigid branches


s: Flung out against the sky,--this tall tree says,


s: A frozen strength, with long roots gnarled on rocks,


s: Fertile and deep; you bide your time, are patient,


s: Serene in silence, bare to outward seeming,


s: Concealing what reserves of power and beauty!


s: What teeming Aprils!--chorus of leaves on leaves!


s: These houses say, such walls in walls as ours,


s: Such streets of walls, solid and smooth of surface,


s: Such hills and cities of walls, walls upon walls;


s: Motionless in the sun, or dark with rain;


s: Walls pierced with windows, where the light may enter;


s: Walls windowless where darkness is desired;


s: Towers and labyrinths and domes and chambers,--


s: All these are like the walls which shape your spirit:


s: You move, are warm, within them, laugh within them,


s: Proud of their depth and strength; or sally from them,


s: When you are bold, to blow great horns at the world. .


s: This deep cool room, with shadowed walls and ceiling,


s: Tranquil and cloistral, fragrant of my mind,


s: This cool room says,--just such a room have you,


s: It waits you always at the tops of stairways,


s: Withdrawn, remote, familiar to your uses,


s: Where you may cease pretence and be yourself. . . .


s: And this embroidery, hanging on this wall,


s: Hung there forever,--these so soundless glidings


s: Of dragons golden-scaled, sheer birds of azure,


s: Coilings of leaves in pale vermilion, griffins


s: Drawing their rainbow wings through involutions


s: Of mauve chrysanthemums and lotus flowers,--


s: This goblin wood where someone cries enchantment,--


s: This says, just such an involuted beauty


s: Of thought and coiling thought, dream linked with dream,


s: Image to image gliding, wreathing fires,


s: Soundlessly cries enchantment in your mind:


s: You need but sit and close your eyes a moment


s: To see these deep designs unfold themselves.


s: And so, all things discern me, name me, praise me--


s: I walk in a world of silent voices, praising;


s: And in this world you see me like a wraith


s: Blown softly here and there, on silent winds.


s: 'Praise me'--I say; and look, not in a glass,


s: But in your eyes, to see my image there--


s: Or in your mind; you smile, I am contented;


s: You look at me, with interest unfeigned,


s: And listen--I am pleased; or else, alone,


s: I watch thin bubbles veering brightly upward


s: From unknown depths,--my silver thoughts ascending;


s: Saying now this, now that, hinting of all things,--


s: Dreams, and desires, velleities, regrets,


s: Faint ghosts of memory, strange recognitions,--


s: But all with one deep meaning: this is I,


s: This silver-winged wonder, insubstantial,


s: This singing ghost. . . . And hearing, I am warmed.


s: You see me moving, then, as one who moves


s: A circle filled with light.  And into it


s: Come bulging shapes from darkness, loom gigantic,


s: Or huddle in dark again. . . . A clock ticks clearly,


s: A gas-jet steadily whirs, light streams across me;


s: Two church bells, with alternate beat, strike nine;


s: And through these things my pencil pushes softly


s: To weave grey webs of lines on this clear page.


s: Snow falls and melts; the eaves make liquid music;


s: Black wheel-tracks line the snow-touched street; I turn


s: And look one instant at the half-dark gardens,


s: Where skeleton elm-trees reach with frozen gesture


s: Above unsteady lamps,--with black boughs flung


s: Against a luminous snow-filled grey-gold sky.


s: 'Beauty!' I cry. . . . My feet move on, and take me


s: Between dark walls, with orange squares for windows.


s: Beauty; beheld like someone half-forgotten,


s: Remembered, with slow pang, as one neglected . . .


s: Well, I am frustrate; life has beaten me,


s: The thing I strongly seized has turned to darkness,


s: And darkness rides my heart. . . . These skeleton elm-trees--


s: Leaning against that grey-gold snow filled sky--


s: Beauty! they say, and at the edge of darkness


s: Extend vain arms in a frozen gesture of protest . . .


s: A clock ticks softly; a gas-jet steadily whirs:


s: The pencil meets its shadow upon clear paper,


s: Voices are raised, a door is slammed.  The lovers,


s: Murmuring in an adjacent room, grow silent,


s: The eaves make liquid music. . . . Hours have passed,


s: And nothing changes, and everything is changed.


s: And walks the streets.  The thing I strongly seized


s: Has turned to darkness, and darkness rides my heart.


s: If you could solve this darkness you would have me.


s: This causeless melancholy that comes with rain,


s: Or on such days as this when large wet snowflakes


s: Drop heavily, with rain . . . whence rises this?


s: Well, so-and-so, this morning when I saw him,


s: Seemed much preoccupied, and would not smile;


s: And you, I saw too much; and you, too little;


s: And the word I chose for you, the golden word,


s: The word that should have struck so deep in purpose,


s: And set so many doors of wish wide open,


s: You let it fall, and would not stoop for it,


s: And smiled at me, and would not let me guess


s: Whether you saw it fall. . . These things, together,


s: With other things, still slighter, wove to music,


s: And there I stand.  This music breaks and bleeds me,


s: Turning all frustrate dreams to chords and discords,


s: Faces and griefs, and words, and sunlit evenings,


s: And chains self-forged that will not break nor lengthen,


s: And cries that none can answer, few will hear.


s: Have these things meaning?  Or would you see more clearly


s: If I should say 'My second wife grows tedious,


s: Or, like gay tulip, keeps no perfumed secret'?


s: And more convinced life yields no satisfaction'?


s: Or 'seek too hard, the sight at length grows callous,


s: These you shall have. . . So, talking with my first wife,


s: At the dark end of evening, when she leaned


s: And smiled at me, with blue eyes weaving webs


s: Of finest fire, revolving me in scarlet,--


s: Calling to mind remote and small successions


s: Of countless other evenings ending so,--


s: I smiled, and met her kiss, and wished her dead;


s: Dead of a sudden sickness, or by my hands


s: Savagely killed; I saw her in her coffin,


s: I saw her coffin borne downstairs with trouble,


s: I saw myself alone there, palely watching,


s: Wearing a masque of grief so deeply acted


s: That grief itself possessed me.  Time would pass,


s: And I should meet this girl,--my second wife--


s: And drop the masque of grief for one of passion.


s: Forward we move to meet, half hesitating,


s: We drown in each others' eyes, we laugh, we talk,


s: Looking now here, now there, faintly pretending


s: We do not hear the powerful pulsing prelude


s: Roaring beneath our words . . . The time approaches.


s: We lean unbalanced.  The mute last glance between us,


s: Profoundly searching, opening, asking, yielding,


s: Is steadily met: our two lives draw together . . .


s: . . . .'What are you thinking of?'. . . . My first wife's voice


s: Scattered these ghosts.  'Oh nothing--nothing much--


s: Just wondering where we'd be two years from now,


s: And what we might be doing . . . ' And then remorse


s: Turned sharply in my mind to sudden pity,


s: And pity to echoed love.  And one more evening


s: Drew to the usual end of sleep and silence.


s: And, as it is with this, so too with all things.


s: The pages of our lives are blurred palimpsest:


s: New lines are wreathed on old lines half-erased,


s: And those on older still; and so forever.


s: The old shines through the new, and colors it.


s: What's new?  What's old?  All things have double meanings,--


s: All things return.  I write a line with passion


s: (Or touch a woman's hand, or plumb a doctrine)


s: Only to find the same thing, done before,--


s: Only to know the same thing comes to-morrow. . . .


s: This curious riddled dream I dreamed last night,--


s: The same man stooped to me; we rose from darkness,


s: And broke the accustomed order of our days,


s: And struck for the morning world, and warmth, and freedom. . . .


s: What does it mean?  Why is this hint repeated?


s: What darkness does it spring from, seek to end?


s: You see me, then, pass up and down these stairways,


s: Now through a beam of light, and now through shadow,--


s: Pursuing silent ends.  No rest there is,--


s: No more for me than you.  I move here always,


s: From quiet room to room, from wall to wall,


s: Searching and plotting, weaving a web of days.


s: This is my house, and now, perhaps, you know me. . .


s: Yet I confess, for all my best intentions,


s: Once more I have deceived you. . . . I withhold


s: The one thing precious, the one dark thing that guides me;


s: And I have spread two snares for you, of lies.


s: He, in the room above, grown old and tired,


s: She, in the room below--his floor her ceiling--


s: Pursue their separate dreams.  He turns his light,


s: And throws himself on the bed, face down, in laughter. . . .


s: She, by the window, smiles at a starlight night,


s: His watch--the same he has heard these cycles of ages--


s: Wearily chimes at seconds beneath his pillow.


s: The clock, upon her mantelpiece, strikes nine.


s: The night wears on.  She hears dull steps above her.


s: The world whirs on. . . . New stars come up to shine.


s: His youth--far off--he sees it brightly walking


s: In a golden cloud. . . . Wings flashing about it. . . . Darkness


s: Walls it around with dripping enormous walls.


s: Old age--far off--her death--what do they matter?


s: Down the smooth purple night a streaked star falls.


s: She hears slow steps in the street--they chime like music;


s: They climb to her heart, they break and flower in beauty,


s: Along her veins they glisten and ring and burn. . . .


s: He hears his own slow steps tread down to silence.


s: Far off they pass.  He knows they will never return.


s: Far off--on a smooth dark road--he hears them faintly.


s: The road, like a sombre river, quietly flowing,


s: Moves among murmurous walls.  A deeper breath


s: Swells them to sound: he hears his steps more clearly.


s: And death seems nearer to him: or he to death.


s: What's death?--She smiles.  The cool stone hurts her elbows.


s: The last of the rain-drops gather and fall from elm-boughs,


s: She sees them glisten and break.  The arc-lamp sings,


s: The new leaves dip in the warm wet air and fragrance.


s: A sparrow whirs to the eaves, and shakes his wings.


s: What's death--what's death?  The spring returns like music,


s: The trees are like dark lovers who dream in starlight,


s: The soft grey clouds go over the stars like dreams.


s: The cool stone wounds her arms to pain, to pleasure.


s: Under the lamp a circle of wet street gleams. . . .


s: And death seems far away, a thing of roses,


s: A golden portal, where golden music closes,


s: And spring returns, the countless singing of lovers,


s: He, in the room above, grown old and tired,


s: Flings himself on the bed, face down, in laughter,


s: And clenches his hands, and remembers, and desires to die.


s: And she, by the window, smiles at a night of starlight.


s: . . .  The soft grey clouds go slowly across the sky.


s: No, I shall not say why it is that I love you--


s: Surely you would not have me, like a mirror,


s: Say 'yes,--your hair curls darkly back from the temples,


s: Your mouth has a humorous, tremulous, half-shy sweetness,


s: Your eyes are April grey. . . . with jonquils in them?'


s: No, if I tell at all, I shall tell in silence . . .


s: I'll say--my childhood broke through chords of music


s: --Or were they chords of sun?--wherein fell shadows,


s: Or silences; I rose through seas of sunlight;


s: Or sometimes found a darkness stooped above me


s: With wings of death, and a face of cold clear beauty. .


s: I lay in the warm sweet grass on a blue May morning,


s: My chin in a dandelion, my hands in clover,


s: And drowsed there like a bee. . . . blue days behind me


s: Stretched like a chain of deep blue pools of magic,


s: Enchanted, silent, timeless. . . . days before me


s: Murmured of blue-sea mornings, noons of gold,


s: Green evenings streaked with lilac, bee-starred nights.


s: Confused soft clouds of music fled above me.


s: Sharp shafts of music dazzled my eyes and pierced me.


s: I ran and turned and spun and danced in the sunlight,


s: Shrank, sometimes, from the freezing silence of beauty,


s: Or crept once more to the warm white cave of sleep.


s: No, I shall not say 'this is why I praise you--


s: Because you say such wise things, or such foolish. . .'


s: You would not have me say what you know better?


s: Let me instead be silent, only saying--:


s: My childhood lives in me--or half-lives, rather--


s: And, if I close my eyes cool chords of music


s: Flow up to me . . . long chords of wind and sunlight. . . .


s: Shadows of intricate vines on sunlit walls,


s: Deep bells beating, with aeons of blue between them,


s: Grass blades leagues apart with worlds between them,


s: Walls rushing up to heaven with stars upon them. . .


s: I lay in my bed and through the tall night window


s: Saw the green lightning plunging among the clouds,


s: And heard the harsh rain storm at the panes and roof. . . .


s: How should I know--how should I now remember--


s: What half-dreamed great wings curved and sang above me?


s: What wings like swords?  What eyes with the dread night in them?


s: This I shall say.--I lay by the hot white sand-dunes. .


s: Small yellow flowers, sapless and squat and spiny,


s: Stared at the sky.  And silently there above us


s: Day after day, beyond our dreams and knowledge,


s: Presences swept, and over us streamed their shadows,


s: Swift and blue, or dark. . . . What did they mean?


s: What sinister threat of power?  What hint of beauty?


s: Prelude to what gigantic music, or subtle?


s: Only I know these things leaned over me,


s: Brooded upon me, paused, went flowing softly,


s: Glided and passed.  I loved, I desired, I hated,


s: I struggled, I yielded and loved, was warmed to blossom . . .


s: You, when your eyes have evening sunlight in them,


s: Set these dunes before me, these salt bright flowers,


s: These presences. . . . I drowse, they stream above me,


s: I struggle, I yield and love, I am warmed to dream.


s: You are the window (if I could tell I'd tell you)


s: Through which I see a clear far world of sunlight.


s: You are the silence (if you could hear you'd hear me)


s: In which I remember a thin still whisper of singing.


s: My hands, that touch you, suddenly touch white cobwebs,


s: Coldly silvered, heavily silvered with dewdrops;


s: And clover, heavy with rain; and cold green grass. . .


s: The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls


s: Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,


s: Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.


s: How shall we live to-night, where shall we turn?


s: A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;


s: By lamplit flowered walls, long balustrades,


s: Through half-lit halls which reach no end. . . .


s: And let us walk abroad on the solid air:


s: Look how the organist's head, in silhouette,


s: Leans to the lamplit music's orange square! . . .


s: The dim-globed lamps illumine rows of faces,


s: They have hurried down from a myriad secret places,


s: From windy chambers next to the skies. . . .


s: The music comes upon us. . . . it shakes the darkness,


s: It shakes the darkness in our minds. . . .


s: And brilliant figures suddenly fill the darkness,


s: Down the white shaft of light they run through darkness,


s: And in our hearts a dazzling dream unwinds . . .


s: By the slow soundless crashings of a sea


s: Down miles on miles of glistening mirrorlike sand,--


s: And walk with me once more by crumbling walls;


s: Up mouldering stairs where grey-stemmed ivy clings,


s: To hear forgotten bells, as evening falls,


s: Rippling above us invisibly their slowly widening rings. . . .


s: Did you once love me?  Did you bear a name?


s: Did you once stand before me without shame? . . .


s: You are like music, long forgotten, suddenly come to mind;


s: You are like spring returned through snow.


s: Once, I know, I walked with you in starlight,


s: And many nights I slept and dreamed of you;


s: Come, let us climb once more these stairs of starlight,


s: This midnight stream of cloud-flung blue! . . .


s: And faints to a ghostly whisper . . . Come with me.


s: Are you still doubtful of me--hesitant still,


s: Fearful, perhaps, that I may yet remember


s: What you would gladly, if you could, forget?


s: You were unfaithful once, you met your lover;


s: Still in your heart you bear that red-eyed ember;


s: And I was silent,--you remember my silence yet . . .


s: You knew, as well as I, I could not kill him,


s: Nor touch him with hot hands, nor yet with hate.


s: No, and it was not you I saw with anger.


s: Instead, I rose and beat at steel-walled fate,


s: Cried till I lay exhausted, sick, unfriended,


s: That life, so seeming sure, and love, so certain,


s: Should loose such tricks, be so abruptly ended,


s: Ring down so suddenly an unlooked-for curtain.


s: How could I find it in my heart to hurt you,


s: You, whom this love could hurt much more than I?


s: No, you were pitiful, and I gave you pity;


s: We were two dupes; if I could give forgiveness,--


s: Had I the right,--I should forgive you now . . .


s: We were two dupes . . . Come, let us walk in starlight,


s: And feed our griefs: we do not break, but bow.


s: By the white shadowy crashings of a sea . . .


s: Look how the long volutes of foam unfold


s: To spread their mottled shimmer along the sand! . . .


s: Do not remember how these depths are cold,


s: Green leagues of sea will glimmer above your head.


s: You lean your face upon your hands and cry,


s: The blown sand whispers about your feet,


s: To turn away from the balconies and the music,


s: To hear behind you there a far-off laughter


s: Lost in a stirring of sand among dry dunes . . .


s: Die not sadly, you whom life has beaten!


s: Lift your face up, laughing, die like a queen!


s: Take cold flowers of foam in your warm white fingers!


s: Death's but a change of sky from blue to green . . .


s: The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls


s: Tremble and glow . . . the music breathes upon us,


s: The rayed white shaft plays over our heads like magic,


s: And to and fro we move and lean and change . . .


s: Laugh at a darkness, clench your hands despairing,


s: Smash your glass on a floor, no longer caring,


s: You hear the applause that greets your latest rival,


s: You are forgotten: your rival--who knows?--is I . . .


s: I laugh in the warm bright light of answering laughter,


s: I am inspired and young . . . and though I see


s: You sitting alone there, dark, with shut eyes crying,


s: I bask in the light, and in your hate of me . . .


s: Failure . . . well, the time comes soon or later . . .


s: The night must come . . . and I'll be one who clings,


s: Desperately, to hold the applause, one instant,--


s: To keep some youngster waiting in the wings.


s: The music changes tone . . . a room is darkened,


s: Someone is moving . . . the crack of white light widens,


s: And all is dark again; till suddenly falls


s: A wandering disk of light on floor and walls,


s: Winks out, returns again, climbs and descends,


s: Gleams on a clock, a glass, shrinks back to darkness;


s: And then at last, in the chaos of that place,


s: Dazzles like frozen fire on your clear face.


s: Well, I have found you.  We have met at last.


s: Now you shall not escape me: in your eyes


s: I see the horrible huddlings of your past,--


s: All you remember blackens, utters cries,


s: Reaches far hands and faint.  I hold the light


s: Close to your cheek, watch the pained pupils shrink,--


s: Watch the vile ghosts of all you vilely think . . .


s: To hold high carnival . . . we do not speak,


s: My fingers find the well-loved throat they seek,


s: And press, and fling you down . . . and then forget.


s: Who plays for me?  What sudden drums keep time


s: What flute shrills out as moonlight strikes the floor? . .


s: Seeing how strangely in the moon he lies? . . .


s: The crack of white light narrows around the door,


s: And all is silent, except a slow complaining


s: Of flutes and violins, like music waning.


s: By the slow soundless crashings of a sea . . .


s: Look, how white these shells are, on this sand!


s: And watch the waves run inward from the sky


s: Line upon foaming line to plunge and die.


s: The music that bound our lives is lost behind us,


s: Paltry it seems . . . here in this wind-swung place


s: Motionless under the sky's vast vault of azure


s: We stand in a terror of beauty, face to face.


s: The dry grass creaks in the wind, the blown sand whispers,


s: The soft sand seethes on the dunes, the clear grains glisten,


s: Once they were rock . . . a chaos of golden boulders . . .


s: Now they are blown by the wind . . . we stand and listen


s: To the sliding of grain upon timeless grain


s: And feel our lives go past like a whisper of pain.


s: Have I not seen you, have we not met before


s: You shade your sea-gray eyes with a sunlit hand


s: And peer at me . . . far sea-gulls, in your eyes,


s: Flash in the sun, go down . . . I hear slow sand,


s: And shrink to nothing beneath blue brilliant skies . . .


s: The music ends.  The screen grows dark.  We hurry


s: To go our devious secret ways, forgetting


s: Those many lives . . .  We loved, we laughed, we killed,


s: We danced in fire, we drowned in a whirl of sea-waves.


s: The flutes are stilled, and a thousand dreams are stilled.


s: Whose body have I found beside dark waters,


s: The cold white body, garlanded with sea-weed?


s: I bent my head above it, and cried in silence.


s: Only the things I dreamed of heard my cry.


s: Once I loved, and she I loved was darkened.


s: Again I loved, and love itself was darkened.


s: Vainly we follow the circle of shadowy days.


s: The screen at last grows dark, the flutes are silent.


s: The doors of night are closed.  We go our ways.


s: The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.


s: The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:


s: And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.


s: A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.


s: Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.


s: And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,


s: The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,


s: And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.


s: The purple lights leap down the hill before him.


s: 'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,


s: I will hold my light above them and seek their faces,


s: I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins. . . . '


s: The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,


s: Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,


s: Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.


s: We hear him and take him among us like a wind of music,


s: Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;


s: We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,


s: We pour in a sinister mass, we ascend a stair,


s: With laughter and cry, with word upon murmured word,


s: We flow, we descend, we turn. . . . and the eternal dreamer


s: Moves on among us like light, like evening air . . .


s: Good night! good night! good night! we go our ways,


s: The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,


s: We walk, we run, we ride.  We turn our faces


s: Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,


s: We have built a tower of stone high into the sky.


s: Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.


s: Our souls are light.  They have shaken a burden of hours. . . .


s: What did we build it for?  Was it all a dream? . . .


s: Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .


s: And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;


s: Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;


s: And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.


s: To what purpose, April, do you return again?


s: You can no longer quiet me with the redness


s: Not only under ground are the brains of men


s: An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.


s: It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,


s: "Speak!" I said, "Oh, tell me something!


s: Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass


s: And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind


s: Of passing pleasant places!  All my life,


s: Have I looked back at loveliness and sighed;


s: Tugged ever, and I passed.  All my life long


s: Over my shoulder have I looked at peace;


s: And now I fain would lie in this long grass


s: Through the long afternoon, and creeks at dusk


s: Are guttural.  Whip-poor-wills wake and cry,


s: Drawing the twilight close about their throats.


s: Only my heart makes answer.  Eager vines


s: Go up the rocks and wait; flushed apple-trees


s: Pause in their dance and break the ring for me;


s: And bayberry, that through sweet bevies thread


s: Of round-faced roses, pink and petulant,


s: Look back and beckon ere they disappear.


s: Yet, ah, my path is sweet on either side


s: All through the dragging day,--sharp underfoot


s: And hot, and like dead mist the dry dust hangs--


s: But far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach,


s: And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling,


s: The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake,


s: Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road


s: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold.


s: Oh, there will pass with your great passing


s: I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky!


s: I had forgotten how the frogs must sound


s: I should not so have ventured forth alone


s: And the day is loud with voices speaking,


s: Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming


s: My heart is warm with the friends I make,


s: Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,


s: These wet rocks where the tide has been,


s: And slimed beneath to a beautiful green,


s: These wet rocks where the tide went down


s: No place to dream, but a place to die,--


s: Shaped like a house, and build a house there,


s: Far from the sea-board, far from the sound


s: Spanking the boats at the harbor's head,


s: Screaming to God for death by drowning,--


s: Thin as thread, with exquisite fingers,--


s: You could not guess--though you should guess--


s: You needs must think--if you should think--


s: And have for a grave, instead of a grave


s: Not wait till I've been dead for a year!


s: Grieves still the hill that I call mine,--


s: Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound


s: That now am caught beneath great buildings,


s: Stricken with noise, confused with light.


s: If I could hear the green piles groaning


s: And the black sticks that fence the weirs,


s: When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,


s: And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind


s: Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned


s: Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,


s: Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak,


s: Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek,--


s: Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushes


s: My heart.  I know that Beauty must ail and die,


s: Beauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!


s: Than the three loveliest maidens, what of her?


s: Not Beauty's perfect self shall comfort me


s: For her the cool-tongued, her the tranquil-hearted,


s: Wandering Heaven and Earth and Hell and the four seasons through;


s: Not your incomparable feet, O thin Terpsichore,


s: But one more pale, more pensive, most beloved of you all.


s: I come from temples where her altars are,


s: Noisy with stricken victims now and sacrificial flame,


s: And cymbals struck on high and strident faces


s: Abandoning the invaded shrines and fanes


s: For sages to decipher and priests to garble,


s: Only and for a little while her letters wedged in marble,


s: Which even now, behold, the friendly mumbling rain erases,


s: Leaving at last of her least signs and traces


s: None whatsoever, nor whither she is vanished from these places.


s: Moves in the wind, and from another wound


s: That sprang, the heavily-sweet blue hyacinth,


s: And sallow poppies, will be dear to her.


s: In the black shade of what obsidian steep


s: Stiffens the white narcissus numb with sleep?


s: (Seed which Demeter's daughter bore from home,


s: In twilight, in perdition's lean and inauspicious loam).


s: Lacking a sunny southern slope in northern Sicily,


s: That moats the unequivocable battlements of Hell,


s: She that is Beauty veiled from men and Music in a swound."


s: "I long for Silence as they long for breath


s: Whose helpless nostrils drink the bitter sea;


s: What fury, what considerable rage, if only she,


s: Being by no means from that frigid bosom weaned away,


s: If only she therewith be given me back?"


s: I sought her down that dolorous labyrinth,


s: Was fretful with a whispering discontent,


s: And questioning me, importuning me to tell


s: Some slightest tidings of the light of day they know no more,


s: Plucking my sleeve, the eager shades were with me where I went.


s: And harked a moment, holding up my hand,--and for a space


s: A hush was on them, while they watched my face;


s: And then they fell a-whispering as before;


s: So that I smiled at them and left them, seeing she was not there.


s: She was not like to be where feasting is,


s: And shunned of him, although a child of his,


s: (Not yours, not yours; to you she owes not breath,


s: Mother of Song, being sown of Zeus upon a dream of Death).


s: And later learn, too late, how all the while,


s: She had been standing there and seen me pass, without a smile,


s: I sought her even to the sagging board whereat


s: But such a laughter shook the mighty hall


s: Had she been seen upon the Hill that day?


s: How long I stood, or when at last I sighed and went away.


s: Between the mountains and the mountainous sea,


s: I know not where, but which a dream diurnal


s: Paints on my lids a moment till the hull


s: Your foot-print is not there, Mnemosene,


s: Though it would seem a ruined place and after


s: Thrown to the earth and fallen forward on their jointless knees,


s: And Psyche's lamp out of the earth up-thrust,


s: Dripping itself in marble wax on what was once the bed


s: Of Love, and his young body asleep, but now is dust instead.


s: There twists the bitter-sweet, the white wisteria


s: Fastens its fingers in the strangling wall,


s: And the wide crannies quicken with bright weeds;


s: But never an echo of your daughters' laughter


s: Swells fungous from the rotten bough, grey mother of Pieria!


s: I saw,--and, lo, the shadow and the garden, too, were gone.


s: I tell you you have done her body an ill,


s: I thought of Heaven and I sought her there;


s: Lovely before your songs began and after they were through!


s: Somewhere your sister's body lies in death,


s: So I may follow there, and make a wreath


s: Of my locked hands, that on her quiet breast


s: "There is a gate beyond the gate of Death,


s: Beyond the gates of Heaven and Hell," she saith,


s: Even in my veins that never will be dry,


s: That is my being, the madness of an unaccustomed mood.


s: This is her province whom you lack and seek;


s: Have walked therein; and many more than these;


s: And witnessed the desire and the despair


s: Of souls that passed reluctantly and sicken for the air;


s: And issued thence; but thence whereof I speak


s: None has returned;--for thither fury brings


s: Only the driven ghosts of them that flee before all things.


s: Oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there."


s: I know the way you mean,--the little night,


s: And I shall drink her from a silver bowl,


s: Not of your press, oh, restless, clamorous nine,--


s: To foam beneath the frantic hoofs of mirth--


s: From perfect clusters ripened without haste


s: In some clear glimmering vaulted twilight under the odorous vine.


s: But as for me, I seek your sister whither she is gone.


s: Oh, loveliest throat of all sweet throats,


s: We talk of taxes, and I call you friend;


s: Well, such you are,--but well enough we know


s: How thick about us root, how rankly grow


s: Those subtle weeds no man has need to tend,


s: That flourish through neglect, and soon must send


s: Yet shall be told no meagre passion here;


s: Isolde drinks the draught, and Guinevere


s: Receives the Table's ruin through her door,


s: Francesca, with the loud surf at her ear,


s: Lets fall the colored book upon the floor.


s: Let us pour all our passion; breast to breast


s: Not we,--articulate, so, but with the tongue


s: Of all the world: the churning blood, the long


s: Shuddering quiet, the desperate hot palms pressed


s: Sharply together upon the escaping guest,


s: The common soul, unguarded, and grown strong.


s: The minstrel, that in slumber is as mute


s: That else forsakes the topmost branch, a fruit


s: Not with libations, but with shouts and laughter


s: We drenched the altars of Love's sacred grove,


s: Shaking to earth green fruits, impatient after


s: The launching of the colored moths of Love.


s: Love's proper myrtle and his mother's zone


s: And fettered him with garlands of our own,


s: And spread a banquet in his frugal house.


s: Though we should break our bodies in his flame,


s: While on the floor the quiet ashes fall,


s: And in the firelight to a lance extended,


s: Bizarrely with the jazzing music blended,


s: The vision of you, by all my dreams attended.


s: And then adieu,--farewell!--the dream is done.


s: The words not ever, and the smiles not yet;


s: Of cold sweet water bubbling underground,


s: A treacherous messenger, the thought of you


s: Firm faith in your abundance, whom I found


s: Long since to be but just one other mound


s: Of sand, whereon no green thing ever grew.


s: I chase your colored phantom on the air,


s: And sob and curse and fall and weep and rise


s: Once more I clasp,--and there is nothing there.


s: Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew


s: But must again in fragrance rich as wine


s: Thus when I swear, "I love with all my heart,"


s: 'Tis with the heart of Lilith that I swear,


s: 'Tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece;


s: And thus as well my love must lose some part


s: Of what it is, had Helen been less fair,


s: Or perished young, or stayed at home in Greece.


s: When I too long have looked upon your face,


s: Save by the mists of brightness has its place,


s: A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight


s: From having looked too long upon the sun.


s: Among familiar things grown strange to me


s: Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,


s: And all your beauty stand you in no stead;


s: This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,


s: This body of flame and steel, before the gust


s: Than the first leaf that fell,--this wonder fled.


s: Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost.


s: Nor shall my love avail you in your hour.


s: It mattering not how beautiful you were,


s: Or how beloved above all else that dies.


s: Even to the ultimate sifting dust, "Behold,


s: Here walketh passionless age!"--for there expands


s: And by its leave some weightless tales are told.


s: In me no lenten wicks watch out the night;


s: I am the booth where Folly holds her fair;


s: Impious no less in ruin than in strength,


s: When I lie crumbled to the earth at length,


s: Let you not say, "Upon this reverend site


s: The righteous groaned and beat their breasts in prayer."


s: Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this:


s: How in the years to come unscrupulous Time,


s: More cruel than Death, will tear you from my kiss,


s: And make you old, and leave me in my prime?


s: A little while the sweet, immortal height


s: As sure as the world turns, some granite night


s: Shall lie awake and know the gracious flame


s: And call to mind that on the day you came


s: And the night pass, and the strange morning break


s: Long since, that once was sweet with shivering brass,


s: Knowing well its altars ruined and the grass


s: Grown up between the stones, yet from excess


s: Of grief hard driven, or great loneliness,


s: The worshiper returns, and those who pass


s: Cold are its ashes whence the breath is fled,


s: Yet here one time your spirit was wont to move;


s: Here might I hope to find you day or night,


s: And here I come to look for you, my love,


s: Even now, foolishly, knowing you are dead.


s: Cherish you then the hope I shall forget


s: For your so passing sake, this mouth of clay


s: Of human love,--renounce for these, I say,


s: The Singing Mountain's memory, and betray


s: Ah, but indeed, some day shall you awake,


s: Rather, from dreams of me, that at your side


s: But stern in my soul's chastity, have lain,


s: I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.


s: And what did I see I had not seen before?


s: Only a question less or a question more;


s: Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.


s: Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,


s: House without air, I leave you and lock your door.


s: Wild swans, come over the town, come over


s: The town again, trailing your legs and crying!


s: The Auld Farmer's New-Year--Morning Salutation To His Auld Mare,


s: Motto Prefixed To The Author's First Publication


s: On Elphinstone's Translation Of Martial's Epigrams


s: The Poet's Reply To The Threat Of A Censorious Critic


s: Verses To Clarinda, with Drinking Glasses


s: To Alex. Cunningham, ESQ., Writer, Edinburgh


s: On The Late Captain Grose's Peregrinations Thro' Scotland


s: Extemporaneous Effusion On being appointed to an Excise division.


s: Election Ballad At the close of the contest


s: for representing the Dumfries Burghs, 1790.


s: There'll Never Be Peace Till Jamie Comes Hame


s: Epistle To John Maxwell, ESQ., Of Terraughty


s: Second Epistle To Robert Graham, ESQ., Of Fintry


s: Sonnet Written On The Author's Birthday,


s: Lines Inscribed In A Lady's Pocket Almanac


s: Song--The Last Time I Came O'er The Moor


s: Song--Whistle, And I'll Come To You, My Lad


s: Song--Robert Bruce's March To Bannockburn


s: Epigram Pinned To Mrs. Walter Riddell's Carriage


s: Epigram--On Miss Jessy Staig's recovery.


s: On Chloris Requesting me to give her a Spring of Blossomed Thorn.


s: Epigram on the Same Laird's Country  Seat


s: The Lover's Morning Salute To His Mistress


s: Lines to John Syme  with a  Dozen of Porter.


s: Inscription On Mr. Syme's Crystal Goblet


s: Apology To Mr. Syme For Not Dining with him


s: Ballads on Mr. Heron's Election--Ballad First


s: Ballads on Mr. Heron's Election--Ballad Second


s: Ballads on Mr. Heron's Election--Ballad Third


s: constitution early undermined; and he died at Dumfries in his


s: Tune--"Invercauld's Reel, or Strathspey."


s: I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing


s: But lang or noon, loud tempests storming


s: She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill,


s: There lies the dear partner of my breast;


s: No anxious fear their little hearts alarms;


s: A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting villain,


s: Still my heart melts at human wretchedness;


s: I view the helpless children of distress:


s: With tears indignant I behold the oppressor


s: Rejoicing in the honest man's destruction,


s: Whose unsubmitting heart was all his crime.--


s: Ye, whom the seeming good think sin to pity;


s: Whom Vice, as usual, has turn'd o'er to ruin.


s: Oh! but for friends and interposing Heaven,


s: I had been driven forth like you forlorn,


s: The most detested, worthless wretch among you!


s: O injured God! Thy goodness has endow'd me


s: With talents passing most of my compeers,


s: Which I in just proportion have abused--


s: As Thou in natural parts has given me more.


s: Paraphrase of Jeremiah, 15th Chap., 10th verse.


s: As I was a-wand'ring ae morning in spring,


s: I heard a young ploughman sae sweetly to sing;


s: And as he was singin', thir words he did say,--


s: There's nae life like the ploughman's in the month o' sweet May.


s: The lav'rock in the morning she'll rise frae her nest,


s: And mount i' the air wi' the dew on her breast,


s: And wi' the merry ploughman she'll whistle and sing,


s: And at night she'll return to her nest back again.


s: In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,


s: But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals,


s: Their father's laird, and weel he can spare't,


s: To proper young men, he'll clink in the hand


s: There's ane they ca' Jean, I'll warrant ye've seen


s: But for sense and guid taste she'll vie wi' the best,


s: The charms o' the min', the langer they shine,


s: While peaches and cherries, and roses and lilies,


s: If ye be for Miss Jean, tak this frae a frien',


s: The Laird o' Blackbyre wad gang through the fire,


s: The Laird o' Braehead has been on his speed,


s: The Laird o' the Ford will straught on a board,


s: Then Anna comes in, the pride o' her kin,


s: Sae sonsy and sweet, sae fully complete,


s: If I should detail the pick and the wale


s: The fau't wad be mine if they didna shine


s: For making o' rhymes, and working at times,


s: For though I be poor, unnoticed, obscure,


s: Though I canna ride in weel-booted pride,


s: And flee o'er the hills like a craw, man,


s: I can haud up my head wi' the best o' the breed,


s: My coat and my vest, they are Scotch o' the best,


s: And stockings and pumps to put on my stumps,


s: And ne'er a wrang steek in them a', man.


s: My sarks they are few, but five o' them new,


s: Twal' hundred, as white as the snaw, man,


s: I never had frien's weel stockit in means,


s: Nae weel-tocher'd aunts, to wait on their drants,


s: I never was cannie for hoarding o' money,


s: I've little to spend, and naething to lend,


s: I'll count my health my greatest wealth,


s: I'll fear nae scant, I'll bode nae want,


s: But at twal' at night, when the moon shines bright,


s: For the man that loves his mistress weel,


s: Tune--"If he be a Butcher neat and trim."


s: And drinks the stream with vigour fresh;


s: She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn,


s: With flow'rs so white and leaves so green,


s: While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow;


s: They tempt the taste and charm the sight;


s: While his mate sits nestling in the bush;


s: But it's not her air, her form, her face,


s: 'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry grace,


s: While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,


s: That Pow'r which rais'd and still upholds


s: Thou giv'st the word: Thy creature, man,


s: Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?


s: Have I so found it full of pleasing charms?


s: Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between--


s: Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing storms,


s: Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode?


s: For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms:


s: And justly smart beneath His sin-avenging rod.


s: Fain would I say, "Forgive my foul offence,"


s: But, should my Author health again dispense,


s: Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray


s: Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan?


s: Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran?


s: Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,


s: With that controlling pow'r assist ev'n me,


s: Those headlong furious passions to confine,


s: To rule their torrent in th' allowed line;


s: O, aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine!


s: She pormis'd fair and perform'd but ill;


s: Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me,


s: Yet I bear a heart shall support me still.


s: I'll act with prudence as far 's I'm able,


s: Then come misfortune, I bid thee welcome,


s: Tune--"Prepare, my dear Brethren, to the tavern let's fly."


s: No churchman am I for to rail and to write,


s: No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,


s: No sly man of business contriving a snare,


s: For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my care.


s: The peer I don't envy, I give him his bow;


s: I scorn not the peasant, though ever so low;


s: But a club of good fellows, like those that are here,


s: And a bottle like this, are my glory and care.


s: Here passes the squire on his brother--his horse;


s: There centum per centum, the cit with his purse;


s: But see you the Crown how it waves in the air?


s: There a big-belly'd bottle still eases my care.


s: The wife of my bosom, alas! she did die;


s: for sweet consolation to church I did fly;


s: I found that old Solomon proved it fair,


s: That a big-belly'd bottle's a cure for all care.


s: A letter inform'd me that all was to wreck;


s: But the pursy old landlord just waddl'd upstairs,


s: With a glorious bottle that ended my cares.


s: "Life's cares they are comforts"--a maxim laid down


s: By the Bard, what d'ye call him, that wore the black gown;


s: And faith I agree with th' old prig to a hair,


s: For a big-belly'd bottle's a heav'n of a care.


s: Then fill up a bumper and make it o'erflow,


s: And honours masonic prepare for to throw;


s: May ev'ry true Brother of the Compass and Square


s: Have a big-belly'd bottle when harass'd with care.


s: My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O,


s: And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;


s: He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a farthing, O;


s: For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.


s: Then out into the world my course I did determine, O;


s: Tho' to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, O;


s: Resolv'd was I at least to try to mend my situation, O.


s: In many a way, and vain essay, I courted Fortune's favour, O;


s: No help, nor hope, nor view had I, nor person to befriend me, O;


s: So I must toil, and sweat, and moil, and labour to sustain me, O;


s: But cheerful still, I am as well as a monarch in his palace, O,


s: But as daily bread is all I need, I do not much regard her, O.


s: When sometimes by my labour, I earn a little money, O,


s: Some unforeseen misfortune comes gen'rally upon me, O;


s: Mischance, mistake, or by neglect, or my goodnatur'd folly, O:


s: All you who follow wealth and power with unremitting ardour, O,


s: A cheerful honest-hearted clown I will prefer before you, O.


s: They took a plough and plough'd him down,


s: And they hae taen his very heart's blood,


s: But, wae's my heart! he could na mend it!


s: My helpless lambs, I trust them wi' him.


s: Frae dogs, an' tods, an' butcher's knives!


s: To slink thro' slaps, an' reave an' steal


s: An' bairns greet for them when they're dead.


s: "And now, my bairns, wi' my last breath,


s: An' for thy pains thou'se get my blather."


s: Wi' saut tears trickling down your nose;


s: A friend mair faithfu' ne'er cam nigh him,


s: Comes bleating till him, owre the knowe,


s: And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night,


s: I'll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest,


s: But I'll get my plaid an' out I'll steal,


s: But I'm as blythe that hands his pleugh,


s: "Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here:"


s: Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace,


s: That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish


s: By our own folly, or our guilt brought on:


s: Has this to say, "It was no deed of mine:"


s: This sting is added, "Blame thy foolish self!"


s: Or worser far, the pangs of keen remorse,


s: The torturing, gnawing consciousness of guilt--


s: Of guilt, perhaps, when we've involved others,


s: The young, the innocent, who fondly lov'd us;


s: Nay more, that very love their cause of ruin!


s: O burning hell! in all thy store of torments


s: Lives there a man so firm, who, while his heart


s: Feels all the bitter horrors of his crime,


s: Can firmly force his jarring thoughts to peace?


s: Few hearts like his, with virtue warm'd,


s: If there's another world, he lives in bliss;


s: If there is none, he made the best of this.


s: O ye whose cheek the tear of pity stains,


s: Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend!


s: Here lie the loving husband's dear remains,


s: The tender father, and the gen'rous friend;


s: The pitying heart that felt for human woe,


s: The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride;


s: And Sackville dour, wha stood the stour,


s: Saint Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise,


s: Then clubs an' hearts were Charlie's cartes,


s: Behind the throne then Granville's gone,


s: An' Chatham's wraith, in heav'nly graith,


s: Wi' kindling eyes, cry'd, "Willie, rise!


s: Till Suthron raise, an' coost their claise


s: An' swoor fu' rude, thro' dirt an' bluid,


s: And then their failings, flaws, an' wants,


s: Spare't for their sakes, wha aften wear it--


s: But your curst wit, when it comes near it,


s: Think, wicked Sinner, wha ye're skaithing:


s: It's just the Blue-gown badge an' claithing


s: O' saunts; tak that, ye lea'e them naething


s: The mair they talk, I'm kent the better,


s: An auld wife's tongue's a feckless matter


s: Yet, by my faith, ye're no unwrought for,


s: 'Twill please me mair to see thee heir it,


s: They heat your brains, and fire your veins,


s: But when I came roun' by Mauchline toun,


s: My girl she's airy, she's buxom and gay;


s: Her breath is as sweet as the blossoms in May;


s: She's always good natur'd, good humour'd, and free;


s: She dances, she glances, she smiles upon me;


s: In Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles,


s: The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a';


s: Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess,


s: In Lon'on or Paris, they'd gotten it a'.


s: Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland's divine,


s: Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw:


s: There's beauty and fortune to get wi' Miss Morton,


s: O Death, had'st thou but spar'd his life,


s: One Queen Artemisia, as old stories tell,


s: When deprived of her husband she loved so well,


s: In respect for the love and affection he show'd her,


s: She reduc'd him to dust and she drank up the powder.


s: But Queen Netherplace, of a diff'rent complexion,


s: When called on to order the fun'ral direction,


s: Would have eat her dead lord, on a slender pretence,


s: Not to show her respect, but--to save the expense!


s: Weel pleas'd, he greets a wight so famous,


s: And Death was nae less pleas'd wi' Thomas,


s: Death taks him hame to gie him quarters.


s: From him that wears the star and garter,


s: Nor 'mang the sp'ritual core present them,


s: Being Handed To Rankine After The Poet's Interment


s: He who of Rankine sang, lies stiff and dead,


s: And a green grassy hillock hides his head;


s: "Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou?"


s: "Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain,


s: Then Age and Want--oh! ill-match'd pair--


s: "O Death! the poor man's dearest friend,


s: "Blockheads with reason wicked wits abhor,


s: But fool with fool is barbarous civil war,"--Pope.


s: Ye'll see how New-Light herds will whistle,


s: The Lord's cause ne'er gat sic a twistle,


s: What flock wi' Moodie's flock could rank?--


s: His voice was heard thro' muir and dale,


s: While New-Light herds, wi' laughin spite,


s: There's Duncan^3 deep, an' Peebles^4 shaul,


s: That thou wilt work them, het an' cauld,


s: Auld Wodrow^10 lang has hatch'd mischief;


s: Wi' Smith, wha thro' the heart can glance,


s: While coofs on countless thousands rant,


s: When banes are craz'd, and bluid is thin,


s: Ev'n then, sometimes, we'd snatch a taste


s: Yet nature's charms, the hills and woods,


s: (To say aught less wad wrang the cartes,


s: The life-blood streaming thro' my heart,


s: And then he'll hilch, and stilt, an' jimp,


s: "And send the godly in a pet to pray."--Pope.


s: Holy Willie was a rather oldish bachelor elder, in the parish of


s: When drinkers drink, an' swearers swear,


s: Lest he owre proud and high shou'd turn,


s: He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes,


s: Frae God's ain priest the people's hearts


s: Thy strong right hand, Lord, make it bare


s: O Lord, my God! that glib-tongu'd Aiken,


s: I stacher'd whiles, but yet too tent aye


s: An' hillocks, stanes, an' bushes, kenn'd eye


s: Its stature seem'd lang Scotch ells twa,


s: "Guid-een," quo' I; "Friend! hae ye been mawin,


s: At length, says I, "Friend! whare ye gaun?


s: But be na fley'd."--Quoth I, "Guid faith,


s: "Gudeman," quo' he, "put up your whittle,


s: Come, gie's your hand, an' sae we're gree't;


s: Till ane Hornbook's^3 ta'en up the trade,


s: The weans haud out their fingers laughin,


s: "See, here's a scythe, an' there's dart,


s: Wi' less, I'm sure, I've hundreds slain;


s: a brother of the sovereign Order of the Ferula; but, by


s: intuition and inspiration, is at once an apothecary,


s: Fient haet o't wad hae pierc'd the heart


s: Baith their disease, and what will mend it,


s: "And then, a' doctor's saws an' whittles,


s: Or mite-horn shavings, filings, scrapings,


s: "Whare I kill'd ane, a fair strae-death,


s: Whase wife's twa nieves were scarce weel-bred


s: Some ill-brewn drink had hov'd her wame;


s: "That's just a swatch o' Hornbook's way;


s: While briers an' woodbines budding green,


s: It thirl'd the heart-strings thro' the breast,


s: I've scarce heard ought describ'd sae weel,


s: Tho' I should pawn my pleugh an' graith,


s: Confuse their brains in college classes!


s: They gang in stirks, and come out asses,


s: But friends, an' folk that wish me well,


s: There's ae wee faut they whiles lay to me,


s: The four-gill chap, we'se gar him clatter,


s: Syne we'll sit down an' tak our whitter,


s: Wha think that havins, sense, an' grace,


s: Ev'n love an' friendship should give place


s: Whose hearts the tide of kindness warms,


s: That trowth, my head is grown right dizzie,


s: "Conscience," says I, "ye thowless jade!


s: "Shall bauld Lapraik, the king o' hearts,


s: Or some hotch-potch that's rightly neither,


s: My worthy friend, ne'er grudge an' carp,


s: Or pursue-proud, big wi' cent. per cent.


s: But, thanks to heaven, that's no the gate


s: Tho' here they scrape, an' squeeze, an' growl,


s: And sing their pleasures, hopes an' joys,


s: Tho' in sic phraisin terms ye've penn'd it,


s: We'll sing auld Coila's plains an' fells,


s: Her banks an' braes, her dens and dells,


s: Hog-shouther, jundie, stretch, an' strive;


s: While moorlan's herds like guid, fat braxies;


s: Count on a friend, in faith an' practice,


s: They took nae pains their speech to balance,


s: But spak their thoughts in plain, braid lallans,


s: In thae auld times, they thought the moon,


s: It ne'er cam i' their heads to doubt it,


s: The rev'rend gray-beards rav'd an' storm'd,


s: Frae words an' aiths to clours an' nicks;


s: An' some, to learn them for their tricks,


s: That faith, the youngsters took the sands


s: Folk thought them ruin'd stick-an-stowe;


s: Nae doubt the auld-light flocks are bleatin;


s: Their zealous herds are vex'd an' sweatin;


s: Are mind't, in things they ca' balloons,


s: An' when the auld moon's gaun to lea'e them,


s: The hindmaist shaird, they'll fetch it wi' them


s: An' when the new-light billies see them,


s: Quo' scho, "Wha lives will see the proof,


s: "But sure as three times three mak nine,


s: "Guid faith," quo', scho, "I doubt you gar


s: To tell the truth, they seldom fash'd him,


s: Except the moment that they crush'd him;


s: For sune as chance or fate had hush'd 'em


s: Fye: bring Black Jock,^1 her state physician,


s: Alas, there's ground for great suspicion


s: Not a' her quacks, wi' a' their gumption,


s: Her feeble pulse gies strong presumption,


s: But, could the Lord's ain folk get leave,


s: E'en swinge the dogs, and thresh them sicker!


s: The mair they squeel aye chap the thicker;


s: There swankies young, in braw braid-claith,


s: Some carrying dails, some chairs an' stools,


s: Whase ain dear lass, that he likes best,


s: Which, by degrees, slips round her neck,


s: Possie Nansie. She was a great pedestrian.]


s: His lengthen'd chin, his turned-up snout,


s: But hark! the tent has chang'd its voice,


s: Now, butt an' ben, the change-house fills,


s: While thick an' thrang, an' loud an' lang,


s: On this ane's dress, an' that ane's leuk,


s: His piercin words, like Highlan' swords,


s: How drink gaed round, in cogs an' caups,


s: An' cheese an' bread, frae women's laps,


s: Their hearts o' stane, gin night, are gane


s: Guid health, hale han's, an' weather bonie;


s: It's now twa month that I'm your debtor,


s: For your braw, nameless, dateless letter,


s: While deil a hair yoursel' ye're better,


s: Then hand in neive some day we'll knot it,


s: Shall make us baith sae blythe and witty,


s: As ye were nine years less than thretty--


s: Inclosing A Copy Of "Holy Willie's Prayer,"


s: On gown, an' ban', an' douse black bonnet,


s: Their sighin, cantin, grace-proud faces,


s: Their three-mile prayers, an' half-mile graces,


s: Whase greed, revenge, an' pride disgraces


s: There's Gaw'n, misca'd waur than a beast,


s: God knows, I'm no the thing I should be,


s: Tho' blotch't and foul wi' mony a stain,


s: An' some, by whom your doctrine's blam'd


s: Even, sir, by them your heart's esteem'd,


s: I'm three times doubly o'er your debtor,


s: Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle,


s: Whiles dazed wi' love, whiles dazed wi' drink,


s: Nae thought, nae view, nae scheme o' livin,


s: Then, hiltie, skiltie, we gae scrievin',


s: But for the Muse, she'll never leave ye,


s: Her lips, more than the cherries bright,


s: and other mischief-making beings are abroad on their baneful


s: midnight errands; particularly those aerial people, the


s: fairies, are said on that night to hold a grand


s: Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain,


s: One native charm, than all the gloss of art.--Goldsmith.


s: There, up the Cove,^3 to stray an' rove,


s: in the neighbourhood of the ancient seat of the Earls of


s: Cove of Colean; which, as well as Cassilis Downans, is


s: famed, in country story, for being a favorite haunt of


s: Where Bruce^4 ance rul'd the martial ranks,


s: To burn their nits, an' pou their stocks,


s: of Robert, the great deliverer of his country, were Earls of


s: Then, first an' foremost, thro' the kail,


s: a "stock," or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand,


s: with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with: its being


s: big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size


s: and shape of the grand object of all their spells--the


s: husband or wife. If any "yird," or earth, stick to the root,


s: that is "tocher," or fortune; and the taste of the


s: "custock," that is, the heart of the stem, is indicative of


s: the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or,


s: to give them their ordinary appellation, the "runts," are


s: placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the


s: Christian names of the people whom chance brings into the


s: house are, according to the priority of placing the "runts,"


s: They steek their een, and grape an' wale


s: Then, straught or crooked, yird or nane,


s: three different times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk


s: wants the "top-pickle," that is, the grain at the top of the


s: stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage-bed


s: too green or wet, the stack-builder, by means of old timber,


s: etc., makes a large apartment in his stack, with an opening


s: in the side which is fairest exposed to the wind: this he


s: the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in


s: the fire; and according as they burn quietly together, or


s: start from beside one another, the course and issue of the


s: must strictly observe these directions: Steal out, all


s: alone, to the kiln, and darkling, throw into the "pot" a


s: clue of blue yarn; wind it in a new clue off the old one;


s: and, toward the latter end, something will hold the thread:


s: demand, "Wha hauds?" i.e., who holds? and answer will be


s: returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the Christian and


s: eat an apple before it, and some traditions say you should


s: comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjungal


s: companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping


s: hemp-seed, harrowing it with anything you can conveniently


s: draw after you. Repeat now and then: "Hemp-seed, I saw thee,


s: hemp-seed, I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my


s: true love, come after me and pou thee." Look over your left


s: shoulder, and you will see the appearance of the person


s: invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions


s: say, "Come after me and shaw thee," that is, show thyself;


s: in which case, it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing,


s: and say: "Come after me and harrow thee."--R.B.]


s: unperceived and alone. You go to the barn, and open both


s: doors, taking them off the hinges, if possible; for there is


s: danger that the being about to appear may shut the doors,


s: and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in


s: winnowing the corn, which in our country dialect we call a


s: "wecht," and go through all the attitudes of letting down


s: corn against the wind. Repeat it three times, and the third


s: time an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the


s: windy door and out at the other, having both the figure in


s: question, and the appearance or retinue, marking the


s: "bear-stack," and fathom it three times round. The last


s: fathom of the last time you will catch in your arms the


s: appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow.--R.B.]


s: spell), to a south running spring, or rivulet, where "three


s: lairds' lands meet," and dip your left shirt sleeve. Go to


s: bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it


s: to dry. Lie awake, and, some time near midnight, an


s: apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in


s: question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the


s: foul water in another, and leave the third empty; blindfold


s: a person and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are


s: ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand; if by chance in the


s: clean water, the future (husband or) wife will come to the


s: bar of matrimony a maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the


s: empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage


s: at all. It is repeated three times, and every time the


s: arrangement of the dishes is altered.--R.B.]


s: Till butter'd sowens,^16 wi' fragrant lunt,


s: Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,


s: I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;


s: What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!


s: Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,


s: That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,


s: Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,


s: Yet, scarce as lang's a gude kail-whittle,


s: Because we stang'd her through the place,


s: An' now we're dern'd in dens and hollows,


s: Auld grim black-bearded Geordie's sel'--


s: When Death comes in wi' glimmerin blink,


s: Though Jock an' hav'rel Jean are merry--


s: First, neist the fire, in auld red rags,


s: I am a son of Mars who have been in many wars,


s: And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;


s: This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,


s: When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.


s: My 'prenticeship I past where my leader breath'd his last,


s: When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram:


s: and I served out my trade when the gallant game was play'd,


s: And the Morro low was laid at the sound of the drum.


s: I lastly was with Curtis among the floating batt'ries,


s: And there I left for witness an arm and a limb;


s: Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me,


s: I'd clatter on my stumps at the sound of a drum.


s: And now tho' I must beg, with a wooden arm and leg,


s: And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my bum,


s: I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my callet,


s: As when I used in scarlet to follow a drum.


s: What tho' with hoary locks, I must stand the winter shocks,


s: Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home,


s: When the t'other bag I sell, and the t'other bottle tell,


s: I could meet a troop of hell, at the sound of a drum.


s: I once was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when,


s: And still my delight is in proper young men;


s: Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,


s: The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,


s: To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;


s: His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,


s: Transported I was with my sodger laddie.


s: But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch;


s: The sword I forsook for the sake of the church:


s: He ventur'd the soul, and I risked the body,


s: 'Twas then I proved false to my sodger laddie.


s: Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,


s: The regiment at large for a husband I got;


s: From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,


s: But the peace it reduc'd me to beg in despair,


s: Till I met old boy in a Cunningham fair,


s: His rags regimental, they flutter'd so gaudy,


s: My heart it rejoic'd at a sodger laddie.


s: And now I have liv'd--I know not how long,


s: And still I can join in a cup and a song;


s: But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,


s: Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.


s: At length, wi' drink an' courting dizzy,


s: Then turn'd an' laid a smack on Grizzie,


s: They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman!


s: Wha us'd at trystes an' fairs to driddle.


s: I've travell'd round all Christian ground


s: But vain they search'd when off I march'd


s: a great favorite with Poosie Nansie's clubs.--R.B.]


s: The caird prevail'd--th' unblushing fair


s: But clear your decks, and here's--"The Sex!"


s: They toom'd their pocks, they pawn'd their duds,


s: Tune--"Jolly Mortals, fill your Glasses."


s: An' a' the lang night as happy's a king.


s: Blest be the hour she cool'd in her linnens,


s: And blythe be the bird that sings on her grave!


s: Drucken or sober, here's to thee, Katie!


s: Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,


s: Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,


s: The short and simple annals of the Poor.


s: My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend!


s: With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,


s: My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise:


s: The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene,


s: The native feelings strong, the guileless ways,


s: What Aiken in a cottage would have been;


s: Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there I ween!


s: November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;


s: The short'ning winter-day is near a close;


s: The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh;


s: The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose:


s: The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes,--


s: This night his weekly moil is at an end,


s: Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend,


s: And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend.


s: At length his lonely cot appears in view,


s: Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through


s: To meet their dead, wi' flichterin noise and glee.


s: His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile,


s: The lisping infant, prattling on his knee,


s: Does a' his weary kiaugh and care beguile,


s: And makes him quite forget his labour and his toil.


s: Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in,


s: At service out, amang the farmers roun';


s: Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin


s: Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman-grown,


s: In youthfu' bloom-love sparkling in her e'e--


s: Comes hame, perhaps to shew a braw new gown,


s: To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be.


s: With joy unfeign'd, brothers and sisters meet,


s: And each for other's weelfare kindly speirs:


s: The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet:


s: Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears.


s: The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years;


s: The mother, wi' her needle and her shears,


s: Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new;


s: Their master's and their mistress' command,


s: And mind their labours wi' an eydent hand,


s: And ne'er, tho' out o' sight, to jauk or play;


s: And mind your duty, duly, morn and night;


s: Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray,


s: Implore His counsel and assisting might:


s: They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright."


s: But hark! a rap comes gently to the door;


s: Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same,


s: Tells how a neibor lad came o'er the moor,


s: To do some errands, and convoy her hame.


s: The wily mother sees the conscious flame


s: Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek;


s: With heart-struck anxious care, enquires his name,


s: While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak;


s: Weel-pleased the mother hears, it's nae wild, worthless rake.


s: Wi' kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben;


s: A strappin youth, he takes the mother's eye;


s: Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en;


s: The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye.


s: The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy,


s: But blate an' laithfu', scarce can weel behave;


s: The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy


s: What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave,


s: Weel-pleas'd to think her bairn's respected like the lave.


s: O happy love! where love like this is found:


s: O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare!


s: I've paced much this weary, mortal round,


s: And sage experience bids me this declare,--


s: "If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare--


s: 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair


s: In other'sarms, breathe out the tender tale,


s: Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale."


s: Is there, in human form, that bears a heart,


s: A wretch! a villain! lost to love and truth!


s: That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,


s: Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth?


s: Curse on his perjur'd arts! dissembling smooth!


s: Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exil'd?


s: Points to the parents fondling o'er their child?


s: Then paints the ruin'd maid, and their distraction wild?


s: But now the supper crowns their simple board,


s: The halesome parritch, chief of Scotia's food;


s: That, 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood:


s: The dame brings forth, in complimental mood,


s: To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell;


s: And aft he's prest, and aft he ca's it guid:


s: How t'was a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell.


s: The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,


s: They, round the ingle, form a circle wide;


s: The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace,


s: The big ha'bible, ance his father's pride:


s: His lyart haffets wearing thin and bare;


s: Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,


s: And "Let us worship God!" he says with solemn air.


s: They chant their artless notes in simple guise,


s: They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim;


s: Perhaps Dundee's wild-warbling measures rise;


s: Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name;


s: Or noble Elgin beets the heaven-ward flame;


s: Compar'd with these, Italian trills are tame;


s: The tickl'd ears no heart-felt raptures raise;


s: Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise.


s: The priest-like father reads the sacred page,


s: How Abram was the friend of God on high;


s: Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire;


s: Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry;


s: Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.


s: Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,


s: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed;


s: How He, who bore in Heaven the second name,


s: Had not on earth whereon to lay His head:


s: How His first followers and servants sped;


s: The precepts sage they wrote to many a land:


s: And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounc'd by Heaven's command.


s: Then, kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King,


s: The saint, the father, and the husband prays:


s: That thus they all shall meet in future days,


s: No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear,


s: Together hymning their Creator's praise,


s: While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere


s: Compar'd with this, how poor Religion's pride,


s: Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart!


s: The Power, incens'd, the pageant will desert,


s: The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole;


s: May hear, well-pleas'd, the language of the soul;


s: And in His Book of Life the inmates poor enroll.


s: Then homeward all take off their sev'ral way;


s: The parent-pair their secret homage pay,


s: And proffer up to Heaven the warm request,


s: That he who stills the raven's clam'rous nest,


s: And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride,


s: Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best,


s: For them and for their little ones provide;


s: But chiefly, in their hearts with grace divine preside.


s: From scenes like these, old Scotia's grandeur springs,


s: That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad:


s: Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,


s: "An honest man's the noblest work of God;"


s: And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road,


s: The cottage leaves the palace far behind;


s: What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load,


s: Disguising oft the wretch of human kind,


s: Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!


s: For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent,


s: Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!


s: And O! may Heaven their simple lives prevent


s: Then howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,


s: And stand a wall of fire around their much-lov'd isle.


s: That stream'd thro' Wallace's undaunted heart,


s: His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!)


s: But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard


s: In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard!


s: O Prince! O chief of many throned Pow'rs


s: That led th' embattl'd Seraphim to war--


s: Whiles, on the strong-wind'd tempest flyin,


s: To say her pray'rs, douse, honest woman!


s: When wi' an eldritch, stoor "quaick, quaick,"


s: Thence countra wives, wi' toil and pain,


s: On young guidmen, fond, keen an' crouse,


s: happy scene When strappin Adam's days were green, And Eve


s: was like my bonie Jean, My dearest part, A dancin, sweet,


s: young handsome quean, O' guileless heart."]


s: An' lows'd his ill-tongu'd wicked scaul',


s: An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin,


s: 'Bout vines, an' wines, an' drucken Bacchus,


s: I sing the juice Scotch bear can mak us,


s: O thou, my muse! guid auld Scotch drink!


s: But when thou pours thy strong heart's blood,


s: Food fills the wame, an' keeps us leevin;


s: When heavy-dragg'd wi' pine an' grievin;


s: The wheels o' life gae down-hill, scrievin,


s: But thee, what were our fairs and rants?


s: O sweetly, then, thou reams the horn in!


s: How fumblin' cuiffs their dearies slight;


s: Thae curst horse-leeches o' the' Excise,


s: Haud up thy han', Deil! ance, twice, thrice!


s: Tho' thou's howe-backit now, an' knaggie,


s: I've seen thee dappl't, sleek an' glaizie,


s: He should been tight that daur't to raize thee,


s: How thou wad prance, and snore, an' skreigh


s: Might aiblins waur't thee for a brattle;


s: But sax Scotch mile, thou try't their mettle,


s: Thou never braing't, an' fetch't, an' fliskit;


s: An' spread abreed thy weel-fill'd brisket,


s: Till sprittie knowes wad rair't an' riskit


s: When frosts lay lang, an' snaws were deep,


s: Thou never lap, an' sten't, and breastit,


s: The first I'll name, they ca'd him Caesar,


s: His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs,


s: An' stroan't on stanes an' hillocks wi' him.


s: Was made lang syne,--Lord knows how lang.


s: Wi' social nose whiles snuff'd an' snowkit;


s: Whiles mice an' moudieworts they howkit;


s: What sort o' life poor dogs like you have;


s: As lang's my tail, where, thro' the steeks,


s: Frae morn to e'en, it's nought but toiling


s: Wi' sauce, ragouts, an' sic like trashtrie,


s: That's little short o' downright wastrie.


s: An' what poor cot-folk pit their painch in,


s: Trowth, Caesar, whiles they're fash't eneugh:


s: An' they maun starve o' cauld an' hunger:


s: How huff'd, an' cuff'd, an' disrespeckit!


s: I've notic'd, on our laird's court-day,--


s: He'll stamp an' threaten, curse an' swear


s: While they maun stan', wi' aspect humble,


s: They're no sae wretched's ane wad think.


s: The prattling things are just their pride,


s: Love blinks, Wit slaps, an' social Mirth


s: For Britain's guid! guid faith! I doubt it.


s: For Britain's guid! for her destruction!


s: For thae frank, rantin, ramblin billies,


s: Feint haet o' them's ill-hearted fellows;


s: The ne'er-a-bit they're ill to poor folk,


s: Sure great folk's life's a life o' pleasure?


s: Nae cauld nor hunger e'er can steer them,


s: Lord, man, were ye but whiles whare I am,


s: It's true, they need na starve or sweat,


s: They've nae sair wark to craze their banes,


s: An' aye the less they hae to sturt them,


s: In like proportion, less will hurt them.


s: Their days insipid, dull, an' tasteless;


s: Their nights unquiet, lang, an' restless.


s: An'ev'n their sports, their balls an' races,


s: Ae night they're mad wi' drink an' whoring,


s: But hear their absent thoughts o' ither,


s: They're a' run-deils an' jads thegither.


s: Whiles, owre the wee bit cup an' platie,


s: Dearest of distillation! last and best--


s: Your Honours' hearts wi' grief 'twad pierce,


s: Scotch distilleries, of session 1786, for which Scotland and


s: the author return their most grateful thanks.--R.B.]


s: E'er sin' they laid that curst restriction


s: Ne'er claw your lug, an' fidge your back,


s: Paint Scotland greetin owre her thrissle;


s: There's some sark-necks I wad draw tight,


s: Dempster,^3 a true blue Scot I'se warran';


s: An' ane, a chap that's damn'd aulfarran',


s: afterward President of the Court of Session.]


s: See sodger Hugh,^10 my watchman stented,


s: Or faith! I'll wad my new pleugh-pettle,


s: For God sake, sirs! then speak her fair,


s: If he some scheme, like tea an' winnocks,


s: I'll pledge my aith in guid braid Scotch,


s: May still you mither's heart support ye;


s: Ye'll snap your gingers, poor an' hearty,


s: where he sometimes studies politics over a glass of gude auld


s: See future wines, rich-clust'ring, rise;


s: While fragrance blooms and beauty charms,


s: When wretches range, in famish'd swarms,


s: Their bauldest thought's a hank'ring swither


s: Till skelp--a shot--they're aff, a'throw'ther,


s: Nae cauld, faint-hearted doubtings tease him;


s: Death comes, wi' fearless eye he sees him;


s: His latest draught o' breathin lea'es him


s: For sense they little owe to frugal Heav'n--


s: To please the mob, they hide the little giv'n.


s: admission of the late reverend and worthy Mr. Lihdsay to the


s: Nae mair thou'lt rowt out-owre the dale,


s: Hark, how the nine-tail'd cat she plays!


s: There, Learning, with his Greekish face,


s: Scotland for those religious opinions which Dr. Taylor of


s: Norwich has so strenuously defended.--R. B.]


s: Friendship, mysterious cement of the soul!


s: Sweet'ner of Life, and solder of Society!


s: Some rhyme (vain thought!) for needfu' cash;


s: "There's ither poets, much your betters,


s: Hae thought they had ensur'd their debtors,


s: Till fate shall snap the brittle thread;


s: When ance life's day draws near the gloamin,


s: Like school-boys, at th' expected warning,


s: Thro' fair, thro' foul, they urge the race,


s: Poor wights! nae rules nor roads observin,


s: Till, curst with age, obscure an' starvin,


s: But truce with peevish, poor complaining!


s: Gie fine braw claes to fine life-guards,


s: While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarkit.


s: divisions of a digressive poem. See his Cath-Loda, vol. 2 of


s: I started, mutt'ring, "blockhead! coof!"


s: When click! the string the snick did draw;


s: The infant aith, half-form'd, was crusht


s: When sweet, like honest Worth, she blusht,


s: Were twisted, gracefu', round her brows;


s: Sae straught, sae taper, tight an' clean--


s: Deep lights and shades, bold-mingling, threw


s: There, mountains to the skies were toss't:


s: Here, tumbling billows mark'd the coast,


s: Here, Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods;


s: Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare,


s: printed in the Edinburgh edition, 1787. Other stanzas, never


s: published by Burns himself, are given on p. 180.]


s: immortal preserver of Scottish independence.--R.B.]


s: command under Douglas, Earl of Ormond, at the famous battle


s: on the banks of Sark, fought anno 1448. That glorious


s: victory was principally owing to the judicious conduct and


s: intrepid valour of the gallant laird of Craigie, who died of


s: district of Kyle is said to take its name, lies buried, as


s: tradition says, near the family seat of the Montgomeries of


s: Coilsfield, where his burial--place is still shown.--R.B.]


s: Brydon's brave ward^10 I well could spy,


s: travelled under the care of Patrick Brydone, author of a


s: well-known "Tour Through Sicily and Malta."]


s: All choose, as various they're inclin'd,


s: The threat'ning storm some strongly rein;


s: Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame,


s: Call'd forth the reapers' rustling noise,


s: "When youthful love, warm-blushing, strong,


s: the Vision. That copy embraces about twenty stanzas at the end of


s: After 18th stanza of the text (at "His native land"):--


s: After 20th stanza of the text (at "Dispensing good"):--


s: But th' ancient, tuneful, laurell'd Nine,


s: Hail! Nature's pang, more strong than death!


s: Warm Friendship's glow, like kindling wrath!


s: After 21st stanza of the text (at "That, to adore"):--


s: Lodge, Tarbolton, to which the author has the honour to


s: Brydon's brave ward,^12 I saw him stand,


s: I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes,


s: Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes,


s: Till, quite transmugrified, they're grown


s: In answer to a mandate by the Surveyor of the Taxes


s: Mr. Aitken of Ayr, surveyor of taxes for the district.]


s: Till, faith! wee Davock's grown sae gleg,


s: An' then, if kirk folks dinna clutch me,


s: By the Lord, ye'se get them a' thegither!


s: Thro' dirt and dub for life I'll paidle,


s: (Lord, man, there's lasses there wad force


s: An' down the gate in faith they're worse,


s: in the commencement of my poetic career.


s: Heaven spare you lang to kiss the breath


s: To A Louse, On Seeing One On A Lady's Bonnet, At Church


s: Swith! in some beggar's haffet squattle;


s: There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle,


s: My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,


s: What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,


s: Thou flatt'ring mark of friendship kind,


s: Chorus.--And maun I still on Menie doat,


s: For it's jet, jet black, an' it's like a hawk,


s: The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap,


s: And when the lark, 'tween light and dark,


s: And mounts and sings on flittering wings,


s: Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,


s: On turning down with the Plough, in April, 1786.


s: The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield,


s: High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield;


s: Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid


s: Who long with wants and woes has striv'n,


s: Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate,


s: Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight,


s: Occasioned by the unfortunate issue of a Friend's Amour.


s: Alas! how oft does goodness would itself,


s: And sweet affection prove the spring of woe!


s: Then, who her pangs and pains will soothe


s: The morn, that warns th' approaching day,


s: Reigns, haggard--wild, in sore affright:


s: O thou bright queen, who o'er th' expanse


s: Now highest reign'st, with boundless sway


s: Oppress'd with grief, oppress'd with care,


s: But ah! those pleasures, loves, and joys,


s: When dancing thoughtless pleasure's maze,


s: An' 'bout a house that's rude an' rough,


s: And curst be the cause that shall part us!


s: Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low,


s: In ploughman phrase, "God send you speed,"


s: Long life, my Lord, an' health be yours,


s: Lord grant me nae duddie, desperate beggar,


s: They'll mak what rules and laws they please:


s: Or some Montgomery, fearless, lead them,


s: Nae sage North now, nor sager Sackville,


s: To watch and premier o'er the pack vile,--


s: An' whare will ye get Howes and Clintons


s: But what your lordship likes to gie them?


s: Your factors, grieves, trustees, and bailies,


s: Yet while they're only poind't and herriet,


s: They'll keep their stubborn Highland spirit:


s: But smash them! crash them a' to spails,


s: The young dogs, swinge them to the labour;


s: The hizzies, if they're aughtlins fawsont,


s: The langest thong, the fiercest growler,


s: Thoughts, words, and deeds, the Statute blames with reason;


s: But surely Dreams were ne'er indicted Treason.


s: Down Pleasure's stream, wi' swelling sails,


s: But first hang out, that she'll discern,


s: Royal sailor's amour.--R. B. This was Prince William Henry,


s: third son of George III, afterward King William IV.]


s: Maun please the great folk for a wamefou;


s: Sae I shall say--an' that's nae flatt'rin--


s: Or else, I fear, some ill ane skelp him!


s: He's just--nae better than he should be.


s: That he's the poor man's friend in need,


s: Vain is his hope, whase stay an' trust is


s: Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces,


s: Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang, wry faces;


s: Ye'll some day squeel in quaking terror,


s: When Vengeance draws the sword in wrath.


s: Just frets till Heav'n commission gies him;


s: Still louder shrieks, and heavier groans!


s: I'm baith dead-sweer, an' wretched ill o't;


s: Are blest with Fortune's smiles and favours,


s: While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him,


s: Then, sir, your hand--my Friend and Brother!


s: Tune--"Guidnight, and joy be wi' you a'."


s: But the latest throb that leaves my heart,


s: Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,


s: Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,


s: Here pause--and, thro' the starting tear,


s: Then pride might climb the slipp'ry steep,


s: And thirst of gold might tempt the deep,


s: Once fondly lov'd, and still remember'd dear,


s: Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere,


s: Friendship! 'tis all cold duty now allows.


s: And when you read the simple artless rhymes,


s: One friendly sigh for him--he asks no more,


s: Who, distant, burns in flaming torrid climes,


s: Or haply lies beneath th' Atlantic roar.


s: Motto Prefixed To The Author's First Publication


s: The simple Bard, unbroke by rules of art,


s: He pours the wild effusions of the heart;


s: And if inspir'd 'tis Nature's pow'rs inspire;


s: Her's all the melting thrill, and her's the kindling fire.


s: Farewell, dear friend! may guid luck hit you,


s: For lack o' thee, I leave this much-lov'd shore,


s: Never, perhaps, to greet old Scotland more.


s: Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing;


s: And grumble his hurdies their claithing,


s: You'll find that his courage is--naething.


s: I taught her, her terrors were naething.


s: And kissed her, and promised her--naething.


s: And my friendship, by God, when ye've naething.


s: The valiant, in himself, what can he suffer?


s: To dearer serves, to the lov'd tender fair,


s: To those whose bliss, whose beings hang upon him,


s: To helpless children,--then, Oh then, he feels


s: The point of misery festering in his heart,


s: And weakly weeps his fortunes like a coward:


s: Right, sir! your text I'll prove it true,


s: For instance, there's yourself just now,


s: Humbly inscribed to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.


s: Great Nature spoke: observant man obey'd--Pope.


s: Propitious Powers screen'd the young flow'rs,


s: Auld Truth hersel' might swear yer'e fair,


s: An' said my faut frae bliss expell'd me;


s: But, sir, this pleas'd them warst of a',


s: The simple Bard, rough at the rustic plough,


s: Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough;


s: The chanting linnet, or the mellow thrush,


s: Hailing the setting sun, sweet, in the green thorn bush;


s: The soaring lark, the perching red-breast shrill,


s: Or deep-ton'd plovers grey, wild-whistling o'er the hill;


s: Shall he--nurst in the peasant's lowly shed,


s: And train'd to arms in stern Misfortune's field--


s: Shall he be guilty of their hireling crimes,


s: With all the venal soul of dedicating prose?


s: No! though his artless strains he rudely sings,


s: And throws his hand uncouthly o'er the strings,


s: He glows with all the spirit of the Bard,


s: Fame, honest fame, his great, his dear reward.


s: Still, if some patron's gen'rous care he trace,


s: Skill'd in the secret, to bestow with grace;


s: When Ballantine befriends his humble name,


s: And hands the rustic stranger up to fame,


s: With heartfelt throes his grateful bosom swells,


s: The godlike bliss, to give, alone excels.


s: 'Twas when the stacks get on their winter hap,


s: And thack and rape secure the toil-won crap;


s: Potatoe-bings are snugged up frae skaith


s: O' coming Winter's biting, frosty breath;


s: The bees, rejoicing o'er their summer toils,


s: Unnumber'd buds an' flow'rs' delicious spoils,


s: Seal'd up with frugal care in massive waxen piles,


s: Are doom'd by Man, that tyrant o'er the weak,


s: The death o' devils, smoor'd wi' brimstone reek:


s: The thundering guns are heard on ev'ry side,


s: The wounded coveys, reeling, scatter wide;


s: The feather'd field-mates, bound by Nature's tie,


s: Sires, mothers, children, in one carnage lie:


s: (What warm, poetic heart but inly bleeds,


s: And execrates man's savage, ruthless deeds!)


s: Nae mair the flow'r in field or meadow springs,


s: Nae mair the grove with airy concert rings,


s: Except perhaps the Robin's whistling glee,


s: Proud o' the height o' some bit half-lang tree:


s: Mild, calm, serene, wide spreads the noontide blaze,


s: While thick the gosamour waves wanton in the rays.


s: 'Twas in that season, when a simple Bard,


s: Unknown and poor--simplicity's reward!--


s: Ae night, within the ancient brugh of Ayr,


s: By whim inspir'd, or haply prest wi' care,


s: He left his bed, and took his wayward route,


s: And down by Simpson's^1 wheel'd the left about:


s: (Whether impell'd by all-directing Fate,


s: He wander'd out, he knew not where or why:)


s: The drowsy Dungeon-clock^2 had number'd two,


s: and Wallace Tower^2 had sworn the fact was true:


s: The tide-swoln firth, with sullen-sounding roar,


s: Through the still night dash'd hoarse along the shore.


s: All else was hush'd as Nature's closed e'e;


s: The silent moon shone high o'er tower and tree;


s: The chilly frost, beneath the silver beam,


s: Crept, gently-crusting, o'er the glittering stream--


s: When, lo! on either hand the list'ning Bard,


s: The clanging sugh of whistling wings is heard;


s: Two dusky forms dart through the midnight air;


s: Swift as the gos^3 drives on the wheeling hare;


s: Ane on th' Auld Brig his airy shape uprears,


s: The other flutters o'er the rising piers:


s: The Sprites that owre the Brigs of Ayr preside.


s: (That Bards are second-sighted is nae joke,


s: And ken the lingo of the sp'ritual folk;


s: Fays, Spunkies, Kelpies, a', they can explain them,


s: And even the very deils they brawly ken them).


s: Auld Brig appear'd of ancient Pictish race,


s: He seem'd as he wi' Time had warstl'd lang,


s: Yet, teughly doure, he bade an unco bang.


s: In 's hand five taper staves as smooth 's a bead,


s: The Goth was stalking round with anxious search,


s: Spying the time-worn flaws in every arch;


s: It chanc'd his new-come neibor took his e'e,


s: And e'en a vexed and angry heart had he!


s: Wi' thieveless sneer to see his modish mien,


s: He, down the water, gies him this guid-e'en:--


s: "I doubt na, frien', ye'll think ye're nae sheepshank,


s: Ance ye were streekit owre frae bank to bank!


s: Tho' faith, that date, I doubt, ye'll never see--


s: There'll be, if that day come, I'll wad a boddle,


s: Some fewer whigmaleeries in your noddle."


s: "Auld Vandal! ye but show your little mense,


s: Just much about it wi' your scanty sense:


s: Will your poor, narrow foot-path of a street,


s: Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet,


s: Your ruin'd, formless bulk o' stane and lime,


s: Tho' they should cast the very sark and swim,


s: E'er they would grate their feelings wi' the view


s: "Conceited gowk! puff'd up wi' windy pride!


s: This mony a year I've stood the flood an' tide;


s: I'll be a brig when ye're a shapeless cairn!