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THE ALDINE EDITION

OF THE BRITISH

POETS

THE POEMS OF BURNS

THREE VOLUMES

VOL II

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Y curse upon thy venom'd stang,
That shoots my tortur'd gums alang ;
And thro' my lugsgies monie a twang,

Wi' gnawing vengeance;
Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang,

Like racking engines !

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When fevers burn, or ague freezes,
Rheumatics gnaw, or cholic squeezes ;
Our neighbour's sympathy may ease us,

Wi' pitying moan;
But thee—thou hell o' a' diseases,

Aye mocks our groan !

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* Burns suffered much from this disease. In a letter from Ellisland, in May, 1789, he complains of “ an omnipotent tooth-ache engrossing all his inner man." VOL. II.

B

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