Read The Canongate Burns Online
Authors: Robert Burns
Burns claims that his knowledge of this particular incident came from a newspaper. It is probable that most of this kind of information so came to him. Unlike Wordsworth, who was wholly averse to what he saw as such vulgar contemporary contaminants, Burns belongs to an earlier satirical tradition. He not only throve on journalistic gossip, but could transmute it, like Byron, into great poetry. He also refers warmly to Hogarth and the whole world of eighteenth-century political caricature had undoubtedly a strong influence on him, perhaps not yet fully appreciated. The King also had five daughters (ll. 118â126) who were, needless to say, not noted for their beauty, unlike their chronic constipation.
The Sun had clos'd the
winter-day
,
The Curlers quat their roaring play,
quit
And hunger'd Maukin taen her way,
hare, taken
              To kail-yards green,
kitchen-gardens
5
While faithless snaws ilk step betray
snows each
              Whare she has been.
where
The Thresher's weary
flingin-tree
,
flailing
The lee-lang day had tired me;
live-long
And when the Day had clos'd his e'e
eye
10
              Far i' the West,
Ben i' the
Spence
, right pensivelie,
back, parlour
              I gaed to rest.
went
There, lanely by the ingle-cheek,
lonely, fire side
I sat and ey'd the spewing reek,
smoke
15
That fill'd, wi' hoast-provoking smeek,
cough, smoke
              The auld clay biggin;
old, building
An' heard the restless rattons squeak
rats
              About the riggin.
roof
All in this mottie, misty clime,
dusty specks
20
I backward mus'd on wasted time:
How I had spent my
youthfu' prime
,
              An' done naething,
nothing
But stringing blethers up in rhyme,
nonesense stories
              For fools to sing.
25
Had I to guid advice but harket,
good, listened
I might, by this, hae led a market,
have
Or strutted in a bank and clarket
clarked
              My
Cash-Account
:
While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarket,
half-clothed
30
              Is a' th' amount.
I started, mutt'ring blockhead! coof!
fool
An' heav'd on high my wauket loof,
horny palm/hand
To swear by a' yon starry roof,
              Or some rash aith,
oath
35
That I, henceforth, would be
rhyme-proof
              Till my last breath â
When click! the
string
the snick did draw;
door latch
And jee! the door gaed to the wa';
went, wall
And by my ingle-lowe I saw,
fire-flame
40
              Now bleezan bright,
A tight, outlandish
Hizzie
, braw,
girl
              Come full in sight.
Ye need na doubt, I held my whisht;
not doubt, said nothing
The infant aith, half-form'd, was crusht;
oath/pledge
45
I glowr'd as eerie's I'd been dusht,
stared, touched
              In some wild glen;
When sweet, like
modest Worth
, she blusht,
              And stepped ben.
inside
Green, slender, leaf-clad
Holly-boughs
leaf-clothed/covered
50
Were twisted, gracefu', round her brows;
I took her for some SCOTTISH MUSE,
              By that same token;
And come to stop those reckless vows,
              Would soon been broken.
55
A âhair-brain'd, sentimental trace'
Was strongly marked in her face;
A wildly-witty, rustic grace
              Shone full upon her;
Her eye, ev'n turn'd on empty space,
60
           Beam'd keen with
Honor
.
Down flow'd her robe, a
tartan
sheen,
bright
Till half a leg was scrimply seen;
barely
And such a
leg
! my bonie JEAN
              Could only peer it;
equal
65
Sae straught, sae taper, tight an' clean
so, straight, so
              Nane else came near it.
no-one
Her
Mantle
large, of greenish hue,
My gazing wonder chiefly drew;
Deep
lights
and
shades
, bold-mingling, threw
70
               A lustre grand;
And seem'd, to my astonish'd view,
              A
well-known
Land.
Here, rivers in the sea were lost;
There, mountains to the skies were tosst;
75
Here, tumbling billows mark'd the coast,
              With surging foam;
There, distant shone
Art's
lofty boast,
              The lordly dome.
Here, DOON pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods;
80
There, well-fed IRWINE stately thuds:
beats/churns
Auld hermit AIRE staw thro' his woods,
Ayr, stole/steals
              On to the shore;
And many a lesser torrent scuds
races along
              With seeming roar.
85
Low, in a sandy valley spread,
An ancient BOROUGH rear'd her head;
Still, as in
Scottish Story
read,
              She boasts a
Race
To ev'ry nobler virtue bred,
90
              And polish'd grace.
[By stately tow'r, or palace fair,
Or ruins pendent in the air,
Bold stems of Heroes, here and there,
              I could discern;
95
Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare,
              With feature stern.
My heart did glowing transport feel,
To see a Race
2
heroic wheel,
And brandish round the deep-dy'd steel
100
              In sturdy blows;
While, back-recoiling, seem'd to reel
              Their Suthron foes.
English
His COUNTRY'S SAVIOUR,
3
mark him well!
Bold RICHARDTON'S
4
heroic swell;
105
The Chief on Sark
5
who glorious fell
              In high command;
And
He
whom ruthless Fates expel
               His native land.
There, where a sceptr'd
Pictish
6
shade
110
Stalk'd round his ashes lowly laid,
I mark'd a martial Race, pourtray'd
               In colours strong:
Bold, soldier-featur'd, undismay'd,
               They strode along.
115
Thro' many a wild, romantic grove,
7
Near many a hermit-fancy'd cove
(Fit haunts for Friendship or for Love
               In musing mood),
An aged Judge
, I saw him rove,
120
               Dispensing good.
With deep-struck, reverential awe,
8
The learned
Sire
and
Son
I saw:
To Nature's God, and Nature's law,
               They gave their lore;
125
This, all its source and end to draw,
               That, to adore.Â
BRYDON'S brave Ward I well could spy,
9
Beneath old SCOTIA'S smiling eye;
Who call'd on Fame, low standing by,
130
               To hand him on,
Where many a Patriot-name on high,
               And Hero shone].
The final seven stanzas, enclosed above in square brackets, were added in the Edinburgh edition, 1787.
With musing-deep, astonish'd stare,
I view'd the heavenly-seeming
Fair
;
A whisp'ring
throb
did witness bear
               Of kindred sweet,
5
When with an elder Sister's air
               She did me greet.
âAll hail!
my own
inspired Bard!
In me thy native Muse regard!
Nor longer mourn thy fate is hard,
10
               Thus poorly low!
I come to give thee such reward,
               As we bestow.'
âKnow, the great
Genius
of this land
Has many a light, aerial band,
15
Who, all beneath his high command,
               Harmoniously,
As
Arts
or
Arms
they understand,
               Their labors ply.
âThey SCOTIA'S Race among them share:
20
Some fire the
Sodger
on to dare;
Some rouse the
Patriot
up to bare
               Corruption's heart;
Some teach the
Bard
, a darling care,
               The tuneful Art.
25
'Mong swelling floods of reeking gore,
smoking
They, ardent, kindling spirits pour;
Or,' mid the venal Senate's roar,
               They, sightless, stand,
To mend the honest
Patriot-lore
,
30
               And grace the hand.
âAnd when the Bard, or hoary Sage,
Charm or instruct the future age,
They bind the wild Poetic rage
               In energy;
35
Or point the inconclusive page
               Full on the eye.
âHence, FULLARTON, the brave and young;
10
Hence, DEMPSTER'S zeal-inspirèd tongue;
11
Hence, sweet, harmonious BEATTIE sung
12
40
               His “Minstrel lays”;
Or tore, with noble ardour stung,
               The
Sceptic's
bays'.
âTo lower Orders are assign'd
The humbler ranks of Human-kind,
45
The rustic Bard, the lab'ring Hind,
               The Artisan;
All chuse, as various they're inclin'd,
               The various man.
âWhen yellow waves the heavy grain,
50
The threat'ning
Storm
some strongly rein,
Some teach to meliorate the plain,
               With
tillage-skill
;
And some instruct the Shepherd-train,
               Blythe o'er the hill.
55
âSome hint the Lover's harmless wile;
Some grace the Maiden's artless smile;
Some soothe the Lab'rer's weary toil
               For humble gains,
And make his
cottage-scenes
beguile
60
               His cares and pains.
âSome, bounded to a district-space,
Explore at large Man's
infant race
,
To mark the embryotic trace
               Of
rustic Bard
;
65
And careful note each op'ning grace,
               A guide and guard.
â
Of these am I
â COILA my name;
And this distrìct as mine I claim,
Where once the
Campbells
, chiefs of fame,
70
               Held ruling pow'r:
I mark'd thy embryo-tuneful flame,
               Thy natal hour.
âWith future hope I oft would gaze,
Fond, on thy little early ways;
75
Thy rudely caroll'd, chiming phrase,
               In uncouth rhymes;
Fir'd at the simple, artless lays
               Of other times.
âI saw thee seek the sounding shore,
80
Delighted with the dashing roar;
Or when the
North
his fleecy store
               Drove thro' the sky,
I saw grim Nature's visage hoar,
               Struck thy young eye.
85
âOr when the deep green-mantled Earth
Warm-cherish'd ev'ry floweret's birth,
And joy and music pouring forth
               In ev'ry grove;
I saw thee eye the gen'ral mirth
90
               With boundless love.
âWhen ripen'd fields and azure skies
Call'd forth the
Reaper's
rustling noise,
I saw thee leave their ev'ning joys,
               And lonely stalk,
95
To vent thy bosom's swelling rise,
               In pensive walk.
âWhen
youthful Love
, warm-blushing, strong,
Keen-shivering, shot thy nerves along,
Those accents grateful to thy tongue,
100
               Th' adored
Name
,
I taught thee how to pour in song
               To soothe thy flame.
âI saw thy pulse's
maddening play
,
Wild-send thee Pleasure's devious way,
105
Misled by Fancy's
meteor-ray
,
               By Passion driven;
But yet the
light
that led astray
               Was
light
from Heaven.
âI taught thy manners-painting strains
110
The
loves
, the
ways
of simple swains,
Till now, o'er all my wide domains
               Thy fame extends;
And some, the pride of
Coila's
plains,
               Become thy friends.
115
âThou canst not learn, nor can I show,
To paint with
Thomson's
landscape glow;
Or wake the bosom-melting throe
               With
Shenstone's
art;
Or pour, with
Gray
, the moving flow
120
               Warm on the heart.
âYet, all beneath th'unrivall'd Rose,
The lowly Daisy sweetly blows;
Tho' large the forest's Monarch throws
               His army shade,
125
Yet green the juicy Hawthorn grows
               Adown the glade.
âThen never murmur nor repine;
Strive in thy
humble sphere
to shine;
And trust me, not
Potosi's
13
mine
,
130
               Nor
King's regard
,
Can give a bliss o'ermatching thine,
               A
rustic Bard
.
âTo give my counsels all in one:
Thy
tuneful flame
still careful fan;
135
Preserve
the dignity of Man
,
             With Soul erect;
And trust the UNIVERSAL PLAN
             Will all protect.
â
And wear thou this
' â She solemn said,
140
And bound the
Holly
round my head:
The polish'd leaves and berries red
             Did rustling play;
And, like a passing thought, she fled
             In light away.