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AS on the banks o’ wandering Nith,
And traced its bonie howes and haughs,Where linties sang and lammies play’d,I sat me down upon a craig,And drank my fill o’ fancy’s dream,When from the eddying deep below,Up rose the genius of the stream.Dark, like the frowning rock, his brow,And troubled, like his wintry wave,And deep, as sughs the boding windAmang his caves, the…
ANCE mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December!
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember—Parting wi’ Nancy, oh, ne’er to meet mair!Fond lovers’ parting is sweet, painful pleasure,Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour;But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever!Anguish unmingled, and agony pure!Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,Till the last leaf o’ the summer is flown;Such is…
FOR lords or kings I dinna mourn,
But oh! prodigious to reflec’!A Towmont, sirs, is gane to wreck!O Eighty-eight, in thy sma’ space,What dire events hae taken place!Of what enjoyments thou hast reft us!In what a pickle thou has left us!The Spanish empire’s tint a head,And my auld teethless, Bawtie’s dead:The tulyie’s teugh ‘tween Pitt and Fox,And ‘tween our Maggie’s twa wee…
It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthrall
Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more,And alas! I am weary, weary O!Torn from &c.All on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost,Like the lands of Virginia-ginia O;There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,And alas! I am weary, weary O!There streams &c.The burden I must…
Talk not of love, it gives me pain,
He bound me in an iron chain,And plung’d me deep in woe.But friendship’s pure and lasting joys,My heart was form’d to prove;There, welcome win and wear the prize,But never talk of love.Your friendship much can make me blest,O why that bliss destroy?Why urge the only, one requestYou know I will deny?Your thought, if Love must…
SIR,Yours this moment I unseal,
To tell the truth and shame the deil,I am as fou as Bartie:But Foorsday, sir, my promise leal,Expect me o’ your partie,If on a beastie I can speel,Or hurl in a cartie.YOURS,ROBERT BURNS.MAUCHLIN, Monday night, 10 o’clock.