The Complete Works of Robert Burns Part 76

XVI.

VERSES

WRITTEN ON A WINDOW OF THE INN AT CARRON.

[These lines were written on receiving what the poet considered an uncivil refusal to look at the works of the celebrated Carron foundry.]

We came na here to view your warks In hopes to be mair wise, But only, lest we gang to h.e.l.l, It may be nae surprise:

For whan we tirl'd at your door, Your porter dought na hear us; Sae may, shou'd we to h.e.l.l's yetts come Your billy Satan sair us!

XVII.

THE BOOK-WORMS.

[Burns wrote this reproof in a Shakspeare, which he found splendidly bound and gilt, but unread and worm-eaten, in a n.o.ble person's library.]

Through and through the inspir'd leaves, Ye maggots, make your windings; But oh! respect his lordship's taste, And spare his golden bindings.

XVIII.

LINES ON STIRLING.

[On visiting Stirling, Burns was stung at beholding nothing but desolation in the palaces of our princes and our halls of legislation, and vented his indignation in those unloyal lines: some one has said that they were written by his companion, Nicol, but this wants confirmation.]

Here Stuarts once in glory reign'd, And laws for Scotland's weal ordain'd; But now unroof'd their palace stands, Their sceptre's sway'd by other hands; The injured Stuart line is gone, A race outlandish fills their throne; An idiot race, to honour lost; Who know them best despise them most.

XIX.

THE REPROOF.

[The imprudence of making the lines written at Stirling public was hinted to Burns by a friend; he said, "Oh, but I mean to reprove myself for it," which he did in these words.]

Rash mortal, and slanderous Poet, thy name Shall no longer appear in the records of fame; Dost not know that old Mansfield, who writes like the Bible, Says the more 'tis a truth, Sir, the more 'tis a libel?

XX.

THE REPLY.

[The minister of Gladsmuir wrote a censure on the Stirling lines, intimating, as a priest, that Burns's race was nigh run, and as a prophet, that oblivion awaited his muse. The poet replied to the expostulation.]

Like Esop's lion, Burns says, sore I feel All others' scorn--but d.a.m.n that a.s.s's heel.

XXI.

LINES

WRITTEN UNDER THE PICTURE OF THE CELEBRATED MISS BURNS.

[The Miss Burns of these lines was well known in those days to the bucks of the Scottish metropolis: there is still a letter by the poet, claiming from the magistrates of Edinburgh a liberal interpretation of the laws of social morality, in belief of his fair namesake.]

Cease, ye prudes, your envious railings, Lovely Burns has charms--confess: True it is, she had one failing-- Had a woman ever less?

XXII.

EXTEMPORE IN THE COURT OF SESSION.

[These portraits are strongly coloured with the partialities of the poet: Dundas had offended his pride, Erskine had pleased his vanity; and as he felt he spoke.]