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, Till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid Low i' the dust. Such is the fate of simple bard, Of prudent lore, Such fate to suffering worth is given, Who long with wants and woes has striven, EPISTLE TO GAVIN HAMILTON, To try to get the twa to gree, ESQ., RECOMMENDING A BOY. [Gavin Hamilton, here addressed, under date Mosgaville, May 3, 1786, was a writer to the signet or legal practitioner, whose residence at this time was the most conspicuous dwellinghouse in the village of Mauchline. Master Tootie was a dealer in cows, well known in that locality.] I HOLD it, Sir, my bounden duty Was here to hire yon lad away As, faith, I muckle doubt him, As lieve then, I'd have then, Not fitted other where. Although I say 't, he's gleg enough, And 'bout a house that's rude rough, The boy might learn to swear; But then wi' you he'll be sae taught, And get sic fair example straught, I haena ony fear. And shore him weel wi' hell; My word of honour I ha'e gi'en, and And name the airles and the fee, In legal mode and form : In faith he 's sure to get him. EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND [The young friend here addressed, under date May, 1786, was Andrew Aiken, son of Robert Aiken, to whom Burns inscribed, as an unwitting passport to fame, his noble "Cotter's Saturday Night." Andrew Aiken proved eminently successful in afterlife, first as a merchant in Liverpool, and later on as a servant of the Crown abroad, in which capacity he died some forty years ago at St. Petersburgh.] I LANG ha'e thought, my youthfu' friend, Then just a kind memento; Ye'll try the world soon, my lad, And muckle they may grieve ye : TO A LOUSE. ON Seeing ONE ON A LADY'S BONNET AT CHURCH. [Mention is made in the sixth stanza of the My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose As plump and grey as onie grozet; following, of a then fashionable gauze or muslin I'd gie ye sic a hearty dose o't, bonnet for ladies, called the Lunardi. The name was given to it in compliment to the famous Italian aeronaut Vincent Lunardi, who in 1785 astonished the people of Scotland, at Edinburgh, Glasgow, St. Andrews, and other places, by making some of the most marvellous HA! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin' ferlie! Owre gauze and lace; Ye ugly, creepin', blastit wonner, On some poor body. Swith, in some beggar's haffet squattle; There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle Wi' ither kindred jumpin' cattle, In shoals and nations; Whare horn or bane ne'er dare unsettle Now haud ye there, ye're out o' sight, Wad dress your droddum! I wad na been surprised to spy But Miss's fine Lunardi-fie! Oh, Jenny, dinna toss your head, Oh, wad some power the giftie gi'e us It wad frae monie a blunder free us A BARD'S EPITAPH. [In this self-condemnatory epitaph, Burns seems, in obedience to a sombre presentiment, to have donned the sackcloth and ashes by anticipation.] Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, |