The Canongate Burns (33 page)

While new-ca'd kye rowte at the stake
new driven cattle, low

An' pownies reek in pleugh or braik,
ponies, snort, plough, harrow

This hour on e'enin's edge I take,

               To own I'm debtor

5
To honest-hearted, auld LAPRAIK,
old

               For his kind
letter
.

Forjesket sair, with weary legs,
jaded, sore

Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs,
out-over, ridges

Or dealing thro' amang the naigs
dealing out food among ponies

10
               Their ten-hours' bite,

My awkart Muse sair pleads and begs,
awkward, sore

               I would na write.
not

The tapetless, ramfeezl'd hizzie,
feckless, worn-out girl

She's saft at best an' something lazy:
soft

15
Quo' she: ‘Ye ken we've been sae busy
know, so

               This month an' mair,
more

That trowth, my head is grown right dizzie,

               An' something sair.'
sore/aching

Her dowf excuses pat me mad;
dull, put

20
‘Conscience,' says I, ‘ye thowless jad!
lazy

I'll write, an' that a hearty blaud,
screed

               This vera night;
very

So dinna ye affront your trade,
do not

               But rhyme it right.

25
‘Shall bauld LAPRAIK, the
king o' hearts
,

Tho' mankind were a
pack o' cartes
,
cards

Roose you sae weel for your deserts,
praise, so well

               In terms sae friendly;
so

Yet ye'll neglect to shaw your parts
show

30
               An' thank him kindly?'

Sae I gat paper in a blink,
so, got

An' down gaed
stumpie
in the ink:
went

Quoth I, ‘Before I sleep a wink,

               I vow I'll close it:

35
An' if ye winna mak it clink,
will not make

               By Jove I'll prose it!'

Sae I've begun to scrawl, but whether
so

In rhyme, or prose, or baith thegither,
both together

Or some hotch-potch that's rightly neither,

40
               Let time mak proof;

But I shall scribble down some blether
chit-chat

               Just clean aff-loof.
off the cuff

My worthy friend, ne'er grudge an' carp,

Tho' Fortune use you hard an' sharp;

45
Come, kittle up your
moorland harp
tickle

               Wi' gleesome touch!

Ne'er mind how Fortune
waft an' warp
;

               She's but a bitch.

She's gien me monie a jirt an' fleg,
given, many, jerk, scare

50
Sin' I could striddle owre a rig;
straddle over

But, by the Lord, tho' I should beg

               Wi' lyart pow,
grey head

I'll laugh an' sing, an' shake my leg,
dance

               As lang's I dow!
long as I can

55
Now comes the
sax an twentieth simmer
six, summer

I've seen the bud upo' the timmer,
woods/trees

Still persecuted by the limmer
jade

               Frae year to year;
from

But yet, despite the kittle kimmer,
fickle gossip

60
              
I, Rob, am here
.

Do ye envy the
city-gent
,

Behint a kist to lie an' sklent,
counter, cheat

Or purse-proud, big wi' cent per cent,
counting money

               An' muckle wame,
large belly

65
In some bit
Brugh
to represent
borough

               A
Bailie's
name?
town magistrate

Or is't the paughty feudal
Thane
,
haughty

Wi' ruffl'd sark an' glancing cane,
shirt, shining

Wha thinks himsel nae
sheep-shank bane
,
who, himself no, bone

70
               But lordly stalks;

While caps an' bonnets aff are taen,
off, taken

               As by he walks?

‘O Thou wha gies us each guid gift!
who gives, good

Gie me o'
wit
an'
sense
a lift,
give

75
Then turn me, if
Thou
please,
adrift

               Thro' Scotland wide;

Wi' cits nor
lairds
I wadna shift,
citizens, would not

               In a' their pride!'

Were this the
charter
of our state,

80
‘On pain o'
hell
be rich an' great,'

Damnation then would be our fate,

               Beyond remead;

But, thanks to
Heav'n
, that's no the gate

               We learn our
creed
.

85
For thus the royal
Mandate
ran,

When first the human race began:

‘The social, friendly, honest man,

               Whate'er he be,

'Tis
he
fulfils
great Nature's plan
,

90
               And none but
he
.'

O
Mandate
glorious and divine!

The followers o' the ragged Nine —
the Muses

Poor, thoughtless devils! yet may shine

               In glorious light;

95
While sordid sons o' Mammon's line

               Are dark as night!

Tho' here they scrape, an' squeeze, an' growl,

Their worthless neivefu' of a
soul
fistful

May in some
future carcase
howl,

100
               The forest's fright;

Or in some day-detesting
owl

               May shun the light. 

Then may LAPRAIK and BURNS arise,

To reach their native, kindred skies,

105
And
sing
their pleasures, hopes an' joys,

               In some mild sphere;

Still closer knit in friendship's ties,

               Each passing year!

I GAT your letter, winsome Willie;
got

Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie;
handsomely

Tho' I maun say't, I wad be silly
shall, would

            And unco vain,
mighty

5
Should I believe, my coaxin billie,
fellow

            Your flatterin strain.

But I'se believe ye kindly meant it,
I'll

I sud be laith to think ye hinted
should be loath

Ironic satire, sidelins sklented,
squinted sideways

10
            On my poor Musie;

Tho' in sic phraisin terms ye've penn'd it,
such wheedling

            I scarce excuse ye.

My senses wad be in a creel,
would

Should I but dare a
hope
to speel,
climb

15
Wi'
Allan
, or wi'
Gilbertfield
,

            The braes o' fame;
slopes

Or
Fergusson
, the writer-chiel,
fellow

            A deathless name.

(O
Fergusson
! thy glorious parts

20
Ill suited law's dry, musty arts!

My curse upon your whunstane hearts,
whinstone

            Ye Enbrugh Gentry!

The tythe o' what ye waste at
cartes
tenth, cards

            Wad stow'd his pantry!)
would have stored

25
Yet when a tale comes i' my head,

Or lasses gie my heart a screed —
give

As whyles they're like to be my dead,
whiles, death

(O sad disease!)

I kittle up my
rustic reed
;
tickle, pipe

30
            It gies me ease.
gives
 

Auld COILA, now, may fidge fu' fain,
tingle with delight

She's gotten
Bardies
o' her ain,
own

Chiels wha their chanters winna hain,
fellows who, will not spare

            But tune their lays,

35
Till echoes a' resound again

            Her weel-sung praise.
well-sung

Nae
Poet
thought her worth his while,
no

To set her name in measur'd style;

She lay like some unkend-of isle
unknown

40
            Beside
New Holland
,

Or whare wild-meeting oceans boil
where

            Besouth
Magellan
.
to the south of

Ramsay
an' famous
Fergusson

Gied
Forth
an'
Tay
a lift aboon;
gave, above

45
Yarrow
an'
Tweed
, to monie a tune,
many

            Owre Scotland rings;
over

While
Irwin, Lugar, Aire
, an'
Doon
old spelling of Ayr

            Naebody sings.
nobody

Th'
Illissus, Tiber, Thames
, an'
Seine
,

50
Glide sweet in monie a tunefu' line:
many

But,
Willie
, set your fit to mine,
foot (in music timing)

            An' cock your crest!

We'll gar our streams and burnies shine
make, burns

            Up wi' the best.

55
We'll sing auld COILA'S plains an' fells,
Coila/Kyle, Ayrshire

Her moors red-brown wi' heather bells,

Her banks an' braes, her dens an' dells,
slopes, hill sides, glens

            Whare glorious WALLACE
where

Aft bure the gree, as story tells,
often took victory

60
            Frae Suthron billies.
from English people

At WALLACE' name, what Scottish blood

But boils up in a spring-tide flood?

Oft have our fearless fathers strode

            By WALLACE' side,

65
Still pressing onward, red-wat-shod,
shoes soaked in blood

            Or glorious dy'd!

O sweet are COILA's haughs an' woods,
hollows

When lintwhites chant amang the buds,
linnets, among

And jinkin hares, in amorous whids,
sporting, silent running

70
            Their loves enjoy,

While thro' the braes the cushat croods
slopes, pidgeon coos

            With wailfu' cry!

Ev'n winter bleak has charms to me,

When winds rave thro' the naked tree;

75
Or frosts on hills of
Ochiltree

            Are hoary gray;

Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee,

            Dark'ning the day!

O NATURE! a' thy shews an' forms

80
To feeling, pensive hearts hae charms!
have

Whether the summer kindly warms,

            Wi' life an' light;

Or winter howls, in gusty storms,

            The lang, dark night!
long

85
The
Muse
, nae
Poet
ever fand her,
no, found

Till by himsel he learn'd to wander,

Adown some trottin burn's meander,
running

            An' no think lang:
long

O, sweet to stray, an' pensive ponder

90
            A heart-felt sang!
song

The warly race may drudge an' drive,
worldly

Hog-shouther, jundie, stretch, an' strive;
shoulder push, jostle

Let me fair NATURE's face descrive,
describe

            And I, wi' pleasure,

95
Shall let the busy, grumbling hive

            Bum owre their treasure.
hum over

Fareweel, ‘my rhyme-composing' brither!
farewell, brother

We've been owre lang unkenn'd to ither:
too long unknown, other

Now let us lay our heads thegither,
together

100
            In love fraternal:

May
Envy
wallop in a tether,
swing on a rope

            Black fiend, infernal!

While Highlandmen hate tolls an' taxes;

While moorlan' herds like guid, fat braxies;
good, sheep carcases

105
While Terra Firma, on her axis,

            Diurnal turns;

Count on a friend, in faith an' practice,

            In ROBERT BURNS.

POSTSCRIPT

My memory's no worth a preen:
pin

I had amaist forgotten clean,
almost

Ye bade me write you what they mean
bid

            By this
new-light
,
1

5
'Bout which our herds sae aft hae been
flocks so often

            Maist like to fight.
most
 

In days when mankind were but callans;
striplings

At
Grammar, Logic
, an' sic talents,
such

They took nae pains their speech to balance,
no

10
            Or rules to gie;
give

But spak their thoughts in plain, braid Lallans,
spoke, broad vernacular

            Like you or me.

In thae auld times, they thought the
Moon
,
those old

Just like a sark, or pair o' shoon,
shirt, shoes

15
Wore by degrees, till her last roon
round

            Gaed past their viewin;
went

An' shortly after she was done,

            They gat a new ane.
got, one

This past for certain, undisputed;

20
It ne'er cam i' their heads to doubt it,

Till chiels gat up an' wad confute it,
chaps got, would

            An' ca'd it wrang;
called, wrong

An' muckle din there was about it,
much

            Baith loud an' lang.
both, long

25 Some
herds
, weel learn'd upo' the beuk,
well, Book (Bible)

Wad threap auld folk the thing misteuk;
would, maintain old, mistook

For ‘twas the
auld moon
turn'd a newk
old, corner

            An' out o' sight.

An' backlins-comin to the leuk,
backwards, look

30
            She grew mair bright.
more

This was deny'd, it was affirm'd;

The
herds
and
hissels
were alarm'd;
shepherds, flocks

The rev'rend gray-beards rav'd an' storm'd,

            That beardless laddies
young men

35
Should think they better were inform'd

            Than their auld daddies.
old fathers

Frae less to mair, it gaed to sticks;
from, more, went

Frae words an' aiths, to clours an' nicks;
from, oaths, bumps, cuts

An' monie a fallow gat his licks,
many, fellow got, punishment

40
            Wi' hearty crunt;
blow

An' some, to learn them for their tricks,

            Were hang'd an' brunt.
burned

This game was play'd in monie lands,
many

An'
auld-light caddies
bure sic hands,
lackeys bore such

45
That faith, the
youngsters
took the sands
fled

            Wi' nimble shanks,
legs

Till
Lairds
forbade, by strict commands,

            Sic bluidy pranks.
such bloody

But
new-light herds
gat sic a cowe,
got such a terror

50
Folk thought them ruin'd stick-an-stowe;
completely

Till now, amaist on ev'ry
knowe
almost, hill or hillock

            Ye'll find ane placed;
one

An' some, their
New-Light
fair avow,

            Just quite barefac'd.

55
Nae doubt the
auld-light flocks
are bleatan;

Their zealous herds are vex'd and sweatan;

Mysel, I've even seen them greetan
crying

            Wi' girnan spite,
snarling

To hear the
Moon
sae sadly lie'd on
so

60
            By word an' write.

But shortly they will cowe the louns!
terrify, rascals

Some
auld-light herds
in neebor touns
neighbour towns

Are mind't, in things they ca'
balloons
,
call

            To tak a flight,
take

65
An' stay ae month amang the
Moons
one, among

            An' see them right.

Guid observation they will gie them;
good, give

An' when the
auld Moon's
gaun to lea'e them,
old, going, leave

The hindmost
shaird
, they'll fetch it wi' them,
fragment

70
            Just i' their pouch;

An' when the
new-light
billies see them,
people

            I think they'll crouch!

Sae, ye observe that a' this clatter
so, talk

Is naething but a ‘moonshine matter';
nothing

75
But tho' dull
prose-folk
Latin splatter
speak

            In logic tulzie,
quarrel

I hope we,
Bardies
, ken some better
know

            Than mind sic brulzie.
such a brawl