ANSWER TO A POETICAL [The Tailor to whom Burns gave this terribly plain-spoken answer was one Thomas Walker of Poole, near Ochiltree-the opening couplet of whose address to the young farmer of Mossgiel, in 1786, ran thus Folks tell me ye 're gaun aff this year, out-owre the sea, And lasses whom ye lo'ed sae dear, will greet for thee! Than garrin' lasses cowp the cran, Clean heels owre body, And sairly thole their mither's ban, This leads me on to tell for sport, Burns can hardly be said to have given him the Wi' pinch I put a Sunday's face on, WHAT ails ye now, ye lousie To thresh my back at sic a pitch? Your bodkin's bauld; I did na suffer half sae much Frae Daddie Auld. What tho' at times, when I grow crouse, Gae mind your seam, ye prick-the-louse, King David, o' poetic brief, An' bloody rants, An' yet he's rank'd amang the chief And maybe, Tam, for a' my cants, An' snugly sit amang the saunts, But fegs! the Session says I maun An' snoov'd awa' before the Session- An' syne Mess John, beyond expression, A furnicator loun he call'd me, An' said my faut frae bliss expell'd me, "Geld you!" quo' he, "and whatfor no'? To cut it aff-an' whatfor no'?- But, sat, this pleas'd them warst ava, I saw they were resolvèd a' On my oppression. I, for their thoughtless, careless sakes, Ye see your state wi' theirs compared, But cast a moment's fair regard, What mak's the mighty differ; Discount what scant occasion gave That purity ye pride in, ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, And (what 's aft mair than a' the lave) OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS. Your better art o' hiding. [Evidently not written before the publication Think, when your castigated pulse of the first or Kilmarnock edition of the Poems, otherwise it must for certain have appeared therein. Speaking of this poem, Wordsworth has exquisitely said, "Burns was a man who preached from the text of his own errors, and his wisdom, beautiful as a flower that might Gi'es now and then a wallop, What ragings must his veins convulse, That still eternal gallop : Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail, have risen from seed sown from above, was in "My son, these maxims make a rule, And lump them aye thegither; The cleanest corn that ne'er was dight, SOLOMON, Eccles. ch. vii. ver. 16. O YE wha are sae guid yoursel', Hear me, ye venerable core, As counsel for poor mortals, It mak's an unco leeway. See Social Life and Glee sit down, O, would they stay to calculate Or your more dreaded hell to state, Ye high, exalted, virtuous dames, Ye're aiblins nae temptation. Then gently scan your brother man, That frequent pass douce Wisdom's doo: Though they may gang a kennin wrang, For glaikit Folly's portals; To step aside is human: On turning one DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH, Thou lifts thy unassuming head IN APRIL, 1786, In humble guise; And low thou lies! Such is the fate of artless maid, [Writing on the 20th of April, 1786, to his But now the share uptears thy bed, intimate friend John Kennedy, the Poet enclosed these verses, under the title of "The Gowan," observing that they were the latest of his productions, and adding, "I am a good deal pleased with some of the sentiments myself, as they are just the native querulous feelings of a heart which Melancholy has marked for her own." Burns, it should be remembered, was nearly distraught at this juncture, by reason of the wanton destruction of his written promise of marriage to Jean Armour.] WEE, modest, crimson-tippèd flower, Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet, " And guileless trust, Such is the fate of simple bard, Of prudent lore, Such fate to suffering worth is given, striven, |