The Canongate Burns (101 page)
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Authors: Robert Burns
On the Death of Robert Ruisseaux
First printed in Cromek, 1808.
Now Robin lies in his last lair,
He'll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair,
talk, no more
Cauld Poverty, wi' hungry stare,
cold
              Nae mair shall fear him;
no more
5
Nor anxious Fear, nor cankert Care,
crabbed
              E'er mair come near him.
more
To tell the truth, they seldom fash't him,
troubled
Except the moment that they crush't him;
For sune as Chance or Fate had hush't 'em
soon
10
              Tho' e'er sae short,
so
Then wi' a rhyme or sang he lash't 'em,
song
              And thought it sport.
Tho' he was bred to kintra wark,
country-work
And counted was baith wight and stark,
both, sturdy, strong
15
Yet that was never Robin's mark
              To mak a man;
But tell him, he was learn'd and clark,
well read, scholar
              Ye roos'd him then!
roused
This mock-elegy was written during 1787. The poet plays on the French for âbrook' by employing âRuisseaux', meaning streams, i.e. Scottish
burns
. The reference to Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712â78), as a seminal influence on the French revolution was not noted by Kinsley.
First printed in Cromek, 1808.
Curse on ungrateful man, that can be pleas'd,
And yet can starve the author of the pleasure!
O thou, my elder brother in Misfortune,
By far my elder Brother in the Muse,
With tears I pity thy unhappy fate!
Why is the Bard unfitted for the world,
Yet has so keen a relish of its Pleasures?
See notes to
Epitaph: On Robert Fergusson
. These lines were inscribed by Burns in a copy of Fergusson's poetry he gifted to Rebeccah Carmichael on 19th March 1787, when he was in Edinburgh.
First printed in
The Scots Magazine
, November 1803.
ILL-FATED Genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson,
      What heart that feels and will not yield a tear,
To think Life's sun did set e'er well begun
      To shed its influence on thy bright career.
O why should truest Worth and Genius pine
      Beneath the iron grasp of Want and Woe,
While titled knaves and idiot-greatness shine
      In all the splendour Fortune can bestow?
These lines were inscribed by Burns in a copy of the periodical
The
World
. The enraged sentiments are heart felt and largely accurate in terms of Fergusson's untimely fate and prophetic with regard to his own.
First printed in Chambers, 1851.
DEAR â, I'll gie ye some advice,
give
       You'll tak it no uncivil:
take
You shouldna paint at angels, man,
should not
       But try and paint the Devil.
To paint an angel's kittle wark,
tricky work
       Wi' Nick there 's little danger;
the Devil
You'll easy draw a lang-kent face,
long-known
       But no sae weel a stranger.
so well
                       R.B.
There is no definitive manuscript proof that Burns wrote these lines. It is claimed the verses were written by Burns on the back of a sketch by an Edinburgh artist, whose identity is unknown. Kinsley merely refers to the Chambers-Wallace remarks (Vol. IV, p. 309) on the alleged origin of the lines. The verses are in the colloquial, impromptu style of Burns. Previous editors have probably been right to accept them.
First printed in Stewart, 1801.
O Thou, whom Poesy abhors,
Whom Prose has turnèd out of doors;
Heard'st thou yon groan? â proceed no further!
'Twas laurel'd Martial calling, Murther!
James Elphinstone (1721â1809) translated Martial's
Epigrams
and published them in 1782. Burns records in a letter of 14th January 1788 that âsomebody' presented him with the translations while he was in Edinburgh and âasked my opinion of it' (see Letter 178). The poet viewed the book and after requesting permission to write his response on a blank leaf of the edition delivered the deadly evaluation.
â Mrs. Scott
First printed (incomplete) by Currie, 1800.
Guidwife,
good
I mind it weel, in early date,
well
When I was beardless, young and blate,
bashful
       An' first cou'd thresh the barn,
5
Or haud a yokin at the pleugh,
hold, harnesses, plough
An' tho' fu' foughten sair eneugh,
exhausted, sore enough
       Yet unco proud to learn.
mighty
When first amang the yellow corn
among
       A man I reckon'd was;
10
An' wi' the lave ilk merry morn
others, each
       Could rank my rig and lass;
ridge
              Still shearing, and clearing
                     The tither stooked raw;
other, row/sheaths
              Wi' clavers an' haivers
gossip, nonsense
15
                     Wearing the day awa:
away
E'en then, a wish (I mind its power)
A wish, that to my latest hour
       Shall strongly heave my breast;
That I for poor auld Scotland's sake
old
20
Some useful plan, or book could make,
       Or sing a sang at least.
song
The rough burr-thistle spreading wide
Scots thistle
       Amang the bearded bear,
among, barley
I turn'd the weeding heuk aside,
hook/hoe
25
       An' spar'd the symbol dear.
              No nation, no station
                     My envy e'er could raise:
              A Scot still, but blot still,
without
                     I knew nae higher praise.
no
30
But still the elements o' sang
song
In formless jumble, right an' wrang,
wrong
       Wild floated in my brain;
Till on that hairst I said before,
harvest
My partner in the merry core,
crowd
35
       She rous'd the forming strain.
I see her yet, the sonsie quean,
buxom girl
       That lighted up my jingle;
Her pauky smile, her kittle een,
shrewd eyes
       That gart my heart-strings tingle.
made
40
              So tiched, bewitched,
                     I raved ay to mysel;
look
              But bashing and dashing,
                     I kend na how to tell.
always
Hale to the sex, ilk guid chiel says,
each good man
45
Wi' merry dance in winter-days,
       An' we to share in common:
The gust o' joy, the balm of woe,
The saul o' life, the heav'n below,
soul
       Is rapture-giving woman.
50
Ye surly sumphs, who hate the name,
boors
       Be mindfu' o' your mither:
mother
She, honest woman, may think shame
       That ye're connected with her.
              Ye're wae men, ye're nae men,
sad, no
55
                     That slight the lovely dears:
              To shame ye, disclaim ye,
                     Ilk honest birkie swears.
each, fellow
For you, na bred to barn and byre,
Wha sweetly tune the Scottish lyre,
who
60
       Thanks to you for your line.
The marl'd plaid ye kindly spare,
multi-coloured
By me should gratefully be ware;
worn
       âTwad please me to the Nine.
utmost
I'd be mair vauntie o' my hap,
more proud, clothes
65
       Douce hingin owre my curple,
soberly, over, crupper
Than ony ermine ever lap,
any, folded
       Or proud imperial purple.
              Farewell then, lang hale then,
long health
                     An' plenty be your fa':
lot
70
              May losses and crosses
                     Ne'er at your hallan ca'.
doorway/hall, call
Â
R. Burns. March, 1787
  Â
Among the many verse epistles Burns received after the publication of his Kilmarnock edition, one of the best was by Elizabeth Scott
(1729â89) of Wauchope House, by Jedburgh. The poet visited her during his Border tour on 10th May 1787, describing her favourably but castigating her âhottentot' husband. Mrs Scott was married to a Walter Scott and was a niece of the poetess, Alison Cockburn. Her epistle to Burns appeared in the Scottish press during early 1796, probably sent to the press by Burns himself. Lines 25â30 of her work would have pleased the poet:
An' then sae slee ye crack yer jokes
O' Willie Pitt and Charlie Fox.
Our Great men a' sae weel descrive,
An' how to gar the nation thrive,
Ane maist wad swear ye dwalt amang them,
An' as ye saw them, sae ye sang them.
Indeed, Mrs Scott identifies exactly the unique vernacular quality of the subtly undermining intimacy Burns achieves with the political objects of his satire. It is this uniquely intimate tone that is one of our major reasons for accepting
The Dagger
and
A New Song
, into the canon.
Coleridge's enormous admiration for Burns's vernacular poetry (only Cowper of his English contemporaries found him linguistically opaque) achieved particular expression in stanza 3 in the thistle image:
I cannot here refuse myself the pleasure of recording a speech of the Poet Burns, related to me by the lady to whom it was addressed (Letter 541). Having been asked by her, why in his more serious Poems he had not changed the two or three Scotch words which seemed only to disturb the purity of the style? the poet with great sweetness and his usual happiness in reply, answered why in truth it would have been better, but (quotes ll. 20â24). An author may be allowed to quote from his own poems, when he does it with as much modesty and felicity as Burns did in this instance (Low,
The Critical Heritage,
p. 109).
First printed in Chambers-Wallace, 1896.
The crimson blossom charms the bee,
       The summer sun the swallow;
So dear this tuneful gift to me
       From lovely Isabella.
Her portrait fair upon my mind
       Revolving time shall mellow;
And Mem'ry's latest effort find
       The lovely Isabella.
No Bard nor lover's rapture this,
       In fancies vain and shallow;
She is, so come my soul to bliss!
       The lovely Isabella.
Edinburgh, March 16, 1787
   Â
Isabella McLeod was a sister of John McLeod (See
On the Death of
John McLeod
), whose father was McLeod of Raasay. Her sister was the Countess of Loudon and it is probably this connection, through Mrs Dunlop, that led to her meeting the poet. Kinsley suggests that Gavin Hamilton may have introduced Burns to her.
Tune: Gilliecrankie
First printed by Cromek, 1808.
LORD ADVOCATE
He clench'd his pamphlets in his fist,
      He quoted and he hinted,
Till in a declamation-mist,
5
      His argument, he tint it:
lost it
He gaped for 't, he graped for 't,
groped
      He fand it was awa, man;
found, away
But what his common sense came short,
      He eked out wi' law, man.
10
MR. ERSKINE
Collected, HARRY stood awee,
a moment
Then open'd out his arm, man;
His lordship sat wi' ruefu' e'e,
eye
And ey'd the gathering storm, man:
15
Like wind-driv'n hail it did assail,
Or torrents owre a linn, man;
over, waterfall
The BENCH sae wise lift up their eyes,
so
Hauf-wauken'd wi' the din, man.
half-wakened
In 1787 Burns attanded the Court of Session to witness the case of Maxwell Campbell vrs. Captain James Montgomerie, who fathered a child by the former's wife. Harry Erskine (1746â1817) was the Dean of the Faculty and Ilay Campbell (1734â1823), Lord Advocate (prior to Robert Dundas taking the position). Erskine became a friend and patron of Burns, who, here catches perfectly the famous torrent of his allusive legal rhetoric.
