The Canongate Burns (31 page)
Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
Gone to the West Indies
First printed in the Kilmarnock edition, 1786.
A' Ye wha live by sowps o' drink,
who, mouthfuls
A' ye wha live by crambo-clink,
who, doggerel verse
A' ye wha live and never think,
who
              Come, mourn wi' me
5
Our
billie's
gien us a' a jink,
friend, given, the slip
              An' owre the Sea.
over
Lament him a' ye rantan core,
merry crowd
Wha dearly like a random-splore;
who, frolic
Nae mair he'll join the
merry roar
,
no more
10
              In social key;
For now he's taen anither shore,
taken another
              An' owre the Sea!
over
The bonie lasses weel may wiss him,
handsome, well, wish
And in their dear
petitions
place him:
15
The widows, wives, an' a' may bless him
              Wi' tearfu' e'e;
eye
For weel I wat they'll sairly miss him
well I trust/know, sorely
              That's owre the Sea!
over
O Fortune, they hae room to grumble!
have
20
Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle,
taken off, bungler
Wha can do nought but fyke an' fumble,
who, fuss
              'Twad been nae plea;
it would have, no
But he was gleg as onie wumble,
keen-eyed, gimlet (phallus)
              That's owre the Sea!
over
25
Auld, cantie KYLE may weepers wear,
old, cheerful, mourning cuffs
An' stain them wi' the saut, saut tear:
salt, salt
'Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,
old
              In flinders flee:
splinters fly
He was her
Laureat
monie a year,
poetic champion, many
30
              That's owre the Sea!
over
Â
He saw Misfortune's cauld
Nor-west
cold, north-
Lang-mustering up a bitter blast;
long-
A Jillet brak his heart at last,
broke
              Ill may she be!
35
So, took a berth afore the mast,
              An' owre the Sea!
over
To tremble under Fortune's cummock,
rod
On scarce a bellyfu' o'
drummock
,
stomachful, meal & water
Wi' his proud, independent stomach,
40
              Could ill agree;
So, row't his hurdies in a
hammock
,
rolled, hips/buttocks
              An' owre the Sea!
over
He ne'er was gien to great misguidin,
given
Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in;
pockets would not stay
45 Wi' him it ne'er was
under hidin
,
              He dealt it free:
gave it away
The Muse was a' that he took pride in,
              That's owre the Sea!
over
Jamaica bodies
, use him weel,
folk, well
50
An' hap him in a cozie biel:
shelter, cosy place
Ye'll find him ay a dainty chiel,
friendly fellow
              An' fou o' glee:
full of good nature
He wad na wrang'd the vera
Deil
,
would not wrong, very Devil
              That's owre the Sea!
over
55
Fareweel, my
rhyme-composing billie
!
farewell, friend
Your native soil was right ill-willie:
ill-willed
But may ye flourish like a lily,
              Now bonilie!
I'll toast you in my hindmost
gillie
, last
gill (whisky)
60
              Tho' owre the Sea!
over
There is unresolved critical contention about the reality of Burns's plan to immigrate to Jamaica. Kinsley writes (Vol. III, p. 1176):
The spirit of
On a Scotch Bard
, though sturdily more cheerful than that of the letters, hardly justifies Daiches's view that Burns was never serious about emigrating (pp. 95, 189). He was volatile, and ready to shift to extremes; he was capable of representing his misfortunes as tragic or comic, as occasions for dependency or from a display of swaggering courage. âI have
heard Wordsworth praise the ready flow of verse in this poem,' says Cunningham (1834, II. 288), âand recite with much emotion the eighth and ninth stanza'.
Facts would seem to be on Kinsley's side. The poet's letters are detailed about the voyage. The ship's delay seems to have prevented the journey. What is not in doubt is the degree of tormented uncertainty underlying the poetry of that period. He did want to be the rooted, celebrated Bard of Kyle. The bitter fracas with Jean Armour's family had, however, thrown him into the merciless path of his Auld Licht enemies. He wrote to Dr Moore that:
I had for some time been skulking from covert under all the terrors of a Jail; as some ill-advised, ungrateful people had uncoupled the merciless legal Pack at my heels (Letter 125).
The writ was taken out by Mr Armour, Jean's father (Letter 254). Even in October 1786, after the Kilmarnock edition, he could still write:
⦠the consequences of my follies, which may perhaps make it impracticable to stay at home ⦠I have some time been pining under secret wretchedness ⦠the pang of disappointment, the sting of pride, with some wandering stabs of remorse, which never fail to settle on my vitals like vultures ⦠My gaiety is the madness of an intoxicated criminal under the hands of the executioner (Letter 53).
Despite the moment of deeply ill-judged self-pity with the denigration of Jean (ll. 34â5) as mere jilt, the poem is fuelled, if not quite by the âmadness of an intoxicated criminal' then certainly by the wild energy of a partly comic revenge fantasy on his often betraying fellow countrymen and women who, in his absence, will certainly bitterly discover what they have lost. Exile and cunning but not silence are part of
this
national poet's repertoire.
It should also be noted that this is, deliberately, not straight biography. The poem's tone and content are wittily distanced by being the monologue of an unnamed but sympathetic poet narrator. This poet, addressing his impoverished fellow poets, turns Burns's particular case into a general view, as in Goldsmith, of the penurious state of the poetic career in the late eighteenth century. Wordsworth's perceptive admiration for its linguistic and metrical virtues probably extended to a mutual sympathy for this theme.
First printed in the Kilmarnock edition, 1786.
EXPECT na, Sir, in this narration,
not
A fleechan, fleth'ran
Dedication
,
wheedling, flattering
To roose you up, an' ca' you guid,
praise, call, good
An' sprung o' great an' noble bluid,
blood
5
Because ye're surnam'd like
His Grace
,
1
Perhaps related to the race:
Then, when I'm tired â and sae are
ye
,
so
Wi' monie a fulsome, sinfu' lie,
many
Set up a face, how I stop short,
10
For fear your modesty be hurt.
This may do â maun do, Sir, wi' them wha
shall, who
Maun please the Great-folk for a wamefou;
must, bellyful
For me! sae laigh I need na bow,
so low, not
For, LORD be thankit,
I can plough
;
15
And when I downa yoke a naig,
do not/cannot, horse
Then, LORD be thanket,
I can beg
;
Sae I shall say, an' that's nae flatt'rin,
so, not
It's just sic
Poet an' sic Patron
.
such a
The Poet, some guid Angel help him,
good
20
Or else, I fear, some
ill ane
skelp him!
devil, smack
He may do weel for a' he's done yet,
well
But only â he's no just begun yet.
The Patron (Sir, ye maun forgie me,
must forgive
I winna lie, come what will o' me)
will not
25
On ev'ry hand it will allow'd be,
He's just â nae better than he should be.
no
I readily and freely grant,
He downa see a poor man want;
would not
What's no his ain he winna tak it;
own, will not
30
What ance he says, he winna break it;
once, will not
Ought he can lend he'll no refus't,
Till aft his guidness is abus'd;
often, goodness
And rascals whyles that do him wrang,
sometimes, wrong
Ev'n
that
, he does na mind it lang;
not, long
35
As Master, Landlord, Husband, Father,
He does na fail his part in either.
not
But then, nae thanks to him for a' that
no
Nae
godly symptom
ye can ca' that;
no, call
It's naething but a milder feature
nothing
40
Of our poor, sinfu', corrupt Nature:
Ye'll get the best o' moral works,
'Mang black
Gentoos
, and Pagan
Turks
,
Indians, Hindus
Or Hunters wild on
Ponotaxi
,
Cotopaxi in Ecuador
Wha never heard of Orthodoxy.
who
45
That he's the poor man's friend in need,
The GENTLEMAN in word and deed,
It's no thro' terror of Damnation:
It's just a carnal inclination,
[And Och! that's nae regeneration].
2
50
Morality, thou deadly bane,
poison
Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain!
Vain is his hope, whase stay an' trust is
whose
In
moral
Mercy, Truth, and Justice!
No â stretch a point to catch a plack;
farthing/coin
55
Abuse a Brother to his back;
Steal thro' the
winnock
frae a whore,
window from
But point the rake that taks the
door
;
Be to the Poor like onie whunstane,
And haud their noses to the grunstane;
hold, grindstone
60
Ply ev'ry art o'
legal
thieving;
No matter â stick to
sound believing
.
Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces,
Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang, wry faces;
well-, palms, long
Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan,
65
And damn a' Parties but your own;
I'll warrant then, ye're nae Deceiver,
no
A steady, sturdy, staunch
Believer
.
O ye wha leave the springs o' Calvin,
For
gumlie dubs
of your ain delvin!
muddy puddles, own digging
70
Ye sons of Heresy and Error,
Ye'll
some day
squeel in quaking terror,
When Vengeance draws the sword in wrath,
And in the fire throws the
sheath
;
When Ruin, with his sweeping
besom
,
75
Just frets till Heav'n commission gies him;
gives
While o'er the
Harp
pale Misery moans,
And strikes the ever-deep'ning tones,
Still louder shrieks, and heavier groans!
Your pardon, Sir, for this digression:
80
I maist forgat my
Dedication
;
almost forgot
But when Divinity comes 'cross me,
My readers still are sure to lose me.
So, Sir, you see 'twas nae daft vapour;
no
But I maturely thought it proper,
85
When a' my works I did review,
To
dedicate
them, Sir, to YOU:
Because (ye need na tak' it ill)
not take it badly
I thought them something like
yoursel
.
Then patronize them wi' your favor,
howling
90
And your Petitioner shall ever â
I had amaist said,
ever pray
,
almost
But that's a word I need na say;
not
For prayin, I hae little skill o't,
have
I'm baith dead-sweer, an' wretched ill o't;
both loath, sick of it
95
But I'se repeat each poor man's
pray'r
,
I'll
That kens or hears about you, Sir â
knows
âMay ne'er Misfortune's gowling bark
howling
Howl thro' the dwelling o' the CLERK!
May ne'er his gen'rous, honest heart,
100
For that same gen'rous spirit smart!
May Kennedy's far-honor'd name
Lang beet his hymeneal flame,
long fan
Till Hamiltons, at least a diz'n,
dozen
Are frae their nuptial labors risen:
from
105
Five bonie Lasses round their table,
And sev'n braw fellows, stout an' able,
fine, sturdy
To serve their King an' Country weel,
well
By word, or pen, or pointed steel!
May Health and Peace, with mutual rays,
110
Shine on the ev'ning o' his days;
Till his wee, curlie
John's
ier-oe,
small, great-grandchild
When ebbing life nae mair shall flow,
no more
The last, sad, mournful rites bestow!'
I will not wind a lang conclusion,
long
115
With complimentary effusion;
But, whilst your wishes and endeavours
Are blest with Fortune's smiles and favours,
I am, Dear Sir, with zeal most fervent,
Your much indebted, humble servant.
120
But if, which Pow'rs above prevent,
That iron-hearted Carl,
Want
,
fellow/old man
Attended, in his grim advances,
By
sad mistakes
, and
black mischances
,
While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him,
125
Make you as poor a dog as I am,
Your
humble servant
then no more;
For who would humbly serve the Poor?
But, by a poor man's hopes in Heav'n!
While recollection's pow'r is giv'n,
130
If, in the vale of humble life,
The victim sad of Fortune's strife,
I, thro' the tender-gushing tear,
Should recognise my
Master dear
,
If friendless, low, we meet together,
135
Then, sir, your hand â my FRIEND and BROTHER!Â
Gavin Hamilton (1751â1805) was a Mauchline writer (solicitor) who was one of Burns's closest friends and one of the few professional men to whom the poet was tangibly indebted. He, as landlord, subleased Mossgiel to Robert and Gilbert to save them from their father's bankruptcy and was also to the fore in supporting publication of the Kilmarnock edition. Like Burns he, too, fell foul of the malign forces of local Calvinism and it was his dispute with William Fisher over alleged breaches of Church discipline on Hamilton's part which was the cause of the quite wonderful
Holy Willie's
Prayer
. We, as well as Burns, are, consequently deeply in his debt.
Thus the poem reflects these two principal issues: Burns's gratitude
to an honest good-hearted man (a type he constantly evoked but rarely found) and the fanatical power of Calvinism to control through the creation of diabolic terror and its by-product of malignant hypocrisy. Ll. 53â66 are particularly eloquent on this subject. Hamilton not only provides in this poem the image of the appropriate patron but his singular example leads to a larger digression (ll. 37â48) on the global manifestations of The Enlightenment's belief of the good-hearted natural man as opposed to the vicious, rebarbative provincials who control Ayrshire. For Burns's knowledge of the Philosophes see Ian S. Ross's âBurns and the âSiècles des Lumières' (
Love and Liberty
, pp. 217â28).
Hugh Blair wished ll. 67â77 omitted on the grounds that: âThe poem will be much better without it, and it will give offence by the ludicrous views of punishments of Hell'. Kinsley remarks that âfor once he may have been right' but on the evidence Kinsley cites from Calvin's own statutes regarding the inherent, eternal corruption of the non-elect, it is hard to agree with him. There is also a proByronic self-referential flippancy in the poem (ll. 78â81) as well as moments of darkness and how one might respond to the collapse of creative and social hopes.
