Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
The Canongate Burns (96 page)
Recommending a Boy. Mossgaville, May 3, 1786
First printed in Cromek, 1808.
I hold it, Sir, my bounden duty
To warn you how that MASTER TOOTIE,
    AlÃas, Laird M'Gawn,
Was here to hire yon lad away
5
'Bout whom ye spak the tither day,
spoke, other
    An' wad hae don't aff han':
would have done it, off hand
But lest he learn the callan tricks,
boy
    As faith I muckle doubt him,
much
Like scrapin out auld Crummies' nicks,
old cows' horns
10
    An' tellin lies about them;
        As lieve then I'd have then,
rather
            Your CLERKSHIP he should sair;
serve
        If sae be ye may be
so
            Not fitted otherwhere. âÂ
15
Altho' I say't, he's gleg enough,
sharp
An' bout a HOUSE that's rude an' rough
     The boy might learn to SWEAR;
But then wi' you, he'll be sae taught,
so
An' get sic fair EXAMPLE straught,
such, straight
20
     I hae na ony fear.
have not any
Ye'll catechise him, every quirk,
     An' shore him weel wi' HELL;
threaten, well
An' gar him follow to the kirk â
make
     â Ay when ye gang YOURSEL.
always, go
25
      If ye, then, maun be then
must
          Frae hame, this comin Friday,
from home
      Then please Sir, to lea'e Sir,
leave
          The orders wi' your LADY.
My word of HONOR I hae gien,
have given
30
In PAISLEY JOHN'S, that night at e'en,
     To meet the WARLD'S WORM;
world's â a greedy person
To try to get the twa to gree,
two to agree
An' name the airles, an' the fee,
conditions/payment
     In legal mode an' form:
35
I ken, he weel a SNICK can draw,
know, well, play a trick
     When simple bodies let him;
An' if a DEVIL be at a',
     In faith, he's sure to get him. â
     To phrase you, an' praise you,
40
               Ye ken, your LAUREAT scorns:
know, poet
          The PRAY'R still, you share still
               Of grateful MINSTREL BURNS.Â
This personal, genuinely occasional poem was not published till Cromek's edition of 1808. It involves Burns's attempt to save a lad in his service at the ironically Frenchified âMossgaville' from becoming the servant of Master Tootie, known in Mauchline as âLaird McGaun'. One of McGaun's specialities was scraping the horns of cattle to make them look younger. He wished instead to install the lad in apprenticeship to Hamilton. The second stanza is, of course, entirely ironic, given Hamilton's habits, as to the degree of religious instruction and discipline the boy would receive. The last stanza cautions Hamilton that, due to the poet himself, the proposed apprenticeship of the boy to diabolic McGaun is far advanced. What is also interesting is the degree to which Burns's immediate, consummate technical virtuosity allowed him to dash off an occasional piece in such elaborate metrical form.
Humbly Inscribed to Gavin Hamilton, Esq.
 First printed in the Aldine edition of 1830. â
Great Nature spoke, observant man obey'd
'.
                                                                POPE
Let other heroes boast their scars,
      The marks o' sturt and strife;
violence/trouble
And other poets sing of wars,
      The plagues o' human life;
5
Shame fa' the fun; wi' sword and gun
fall
      To slap mankind like lumber!
I sing his name, and nobler fame,
      Wha multiplies our number.
who
Â
Great Nature spoke, with air benign,
10
      âGo on, ye human race;
This lower world I you resign;
      Be fruitful and increase.
The liquid fire of strong desire
      I've poured it in each bosom;
15
Here, on this hand, does Mankind stand,
      And there, is Beauty's blossom.'
The Hero of these artless strains,
      A lowly Bard was he,
Who sung his rhymes in Coila's plains,
Kyle's
20
      With meikle mirth an' glee;
much
Kind Nature's care had given his share
      Large, of the flaming current;
And, all devout, he never sought
      To stem the sacred torrent.
25
He felt the powerful, high behest
      Thrill, vital, thro' and thro';
And sought a correspondent breast,
      To give obedience due:
Propitious Powers screen'd the young flow'rs,
30
      From mildews of abortion;
And lo! the Bard â a great reward â
      Has got a double portion!
1
Auld cantie Coil may count the day,
old cheerful Kyle
      As annual it returns,
35
The third of Libra's equal sway,
      That gave another Burns,
With future rhymes, an' other times,
      To emulate his sire,
To sing auld Coil in nobler style,
old
40
      With more poetic fire.
Ye Powers of peace, and peaceful song,
      Look down with gracious eyes;
And bless auld Coila, large and long,
old
      With multiplying joys;
45
      Lang may she stand to prop the land,
long
The flow'r of ancient nations;
And Burnses spring, her fame to sing,
      To endless generations!
It is not to be wondered at that this poem did not surface till the Aldine edition of 1830. While not seditious, it certainly provides a somewhat frisky and risky celebration (especially ll. 29â32) of the birth of Jean Armour's twins on 3rd September, 1786 (âThe third of Libra's equal sway'). The poem begins with a general assertion, frequent in Burns, that procreation is everywhere and in every manner to be preferred to assassination. Like Blake, Burns was hypersensitive to the pervasive state and military violence of the late eighteenth century. Burns, indeed, could have been resurrected with Blake in the 1960s as an assertor against the bloody South-East Asian tide that it was better to make love than war.
1
A reference to the birth of the poet's twins.
First printed by Alexander Smith, 1868.
To you, Sir, this summons I've sent,
      Pray whip till the pownie is fraething;
pony, frothing
But if you demand what I want,
      I honestly answer you, naething. â
nothing
5
Ne'er scorn a poor Poet like me,
      For idly just living and breathing,
While people of every degree
      Are busy employed about â naething. â
Poor Centum per centum may fast,
10
      And grumble his hurdies their claithing;
buttocks, clothing
He'll find, when the balance is cast,
      He's gane to the Devil for â naething. â
The Courtier cringes and bows,
      Ambition has likewise its plaything;
15
A Coronet beams in his brows,
      And what is a Coronet? naething. â
Some quarrel the presbyter gown,
      Some quarrel Episcopal graithing,
vestments
But every good fellow will own
20
      The quarrel is all about â naething. â
The lover may sparkle and glow,
      Approaching his bonie bit gay thing;
handsome
But marriage will soon let him know,
      He's gotten a buskit up naething. â
dressed-up nothing
25
The Poet may jingle and rhyme,
      In hopes of a laureate wreathing,
And when he has wasted his time,
      He's kindly rewarded with naething. â
The thundering bully may rage,
30
      And swagger and swear like a heathen;
But collar him fast, I'll engage
      You'll find that his courage is naething. â
Last night with a feminine Whig,
      A Poet she couldna put faith in,
could not
35
But soon we grew lovingly big,
      I taught her, her terrors were naething. â
Her Whigship was wonderful pleased,
      But charmingly tickled wi' ae thing;
one
Her fingers I lovingly squeezed,
40
      And kissed her, and promised her â naething. â
The Priest anathemas may threat,
      Predicament, Sir, that we're baith in;
both
But when honor's reveillé is beat,
      The holy artillery's naething. â
clerical punishments
45
And now I must mount on the wave,
      My voyage perhaps there is death in;
But what of a watery grave!
      The drowning a Poet is naething. â
And now as grim Death's in my thought,
50
      To you, Sir, I make this bequeathing:
My service as long as ye've ought,
      And my friendship, by God, when ye've naething. â
This poem was first printed by Alexander Smith in 1868. It was questioned first but later accepted when discovered in the Glenriddel Manuscript collection. Its retarded appearance is due to the
fact that it is a disturbed and disturbing poem. The short jarring lines and the repetitive ânaething' at the end of the stanza gives the poem a Byronic or, indeed, modern feeling of nihilistic anxiety. It is not for nothing that John Berryman knew and admired Burns to the degree that the Scottish poet features in his extraordinary
Dream
Songs.
The ascending catalogue of emptiness, including that of poetry itself, evolves to include the possibility of the poet's own death by drowning on the proposed Atlantic passage to Jamaica. Another reason for its non-publication is, of course, the allusion in ll. 33â40 of Jean Armour's Whig opposition's failure to withstand the Bard's (phallic) divine right. Ll. 41â0 again testify to his and Hamilton's mutual loathing of clerical intrusion. It is a bitter poem, quite without the consolations of the Ayrshire epistolary poetry contemporary with it.
First printed in
The Morning Chronicle,
27th May, 1814.
WAE worth thy pow'r, thou cursed leaf!
Fell source of a' my woe and grief!
For lake o' thee I've lost my lass;
lack
For lake o' thee I scrimp my glass;
5
I see the children of Affliction
Unaided, thro' thy curs'd restriction;
I've seen th' Oppressor's cruel smile
Amid his hapless victims' spoil;
And for thy potence vainly wish'd
10
To crush the Villain in the dust:
For lake o' thee I leave this much-lov'd shore,
Never, perhaps to greet old Scotland more!
R. B. Kyle.Â
These lines were written by Burns on the back of a Bank of Scotland note for one guinea. The note is dated for 1780. They express the poet's despair at ever being able through farm labour to make ends meet. It is evident in the final couplet that composition occurred during 1786 when the poet felt he might be forced to leave Scotland. The modern folk band The McCluskey Brothers have put music to and recorded these biting, indignant lines.
First published by Thomas Stewart, 1801.Â
Ae day, as Death, that grusome carl,
one, fellow
Was driving to the tither warl'
other world
A mixtie-maxtie motley squad,
hotch-potch
And mony a guilt-bespotted lad;
many
5
Black gowns of each denomination,
clerical robes
And thieves of every rank and station,
From him that wears the star and garter
Knights
To him that wintles in a halter:
dangles, noose/rope
Asham'd himself to see the wretches,
10
He mutters, glow'ring at the bitches,
âBy God I'll not be seen behint them,
behind
Nor âmang the sp'ritual core present them,
Without, at least, ae honest man,
one
To grace this damn'd infernal clan.'
15
By Adamhill a glance he threw,
âLord God!' quoth he, âI have it now,
There's just the man I want, in faith,'
And quickly stoppit Ranken's breath.
stopped
Â
Kinsley allows this poem a single sentence noting that it was probably written in 1785. Extensively derivative of Kinsley, MacKay inevitably provides no further help. While not of the order of
Death and Dr Hornbook,
the poem again presents Death in a quandary due, on this occasion, to the characteristically Burnsian image of criminality pertaining to all ranks of society. To save his self-respect, Death is forced to claim one honest man, John Rankine.
