A wee bit o' Burns

[Penny Tray]

How long I have liv’d, but how much liv’d in vain!
How little of life’s scanty span may remain!
What aspects old Time in his progress has worn!
What ties cruel Fate in my bosom has torn!

*THE LAZY MIST

[Penny Tray]

First when Maggie was my care,
Heav’n, I thought, was in her air;
Now we’re married, spear nae mair,
But – whistle o’er the lave o’t!

*WHISTLE O’ER THE LAVE O’T

[Penny Tray]

Craigdarroch, fam’d for speaking art
And every virtue of the heart,
Stops short, nor can a word impart
To end his sentence,
When mem’ry strikes him like a dart
With auld acquaintance.

*SKETCH FOR AN ELEGY

[Penny Tray]

Thou, Autumn, wi’ thy yellow hair,
In grief thy sallow mantle tear!
Thou, Winter, hurling thro’ the air
The roaring blast,
Wide o’er the naked world declare
The worth we’ve lost!

*ELEGY ON CAPTAIN MATTHEW HENDERSON

[Penny Tray]

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne

*AULD LANG SYNE

[Penny Tray]

View the wither’d beldam’s face:
Can thy keen inspection trace
Aught of Humanity’s sweet, melting grace?

*ODE, SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. OSWALD OF AUCHENCRUIVE

[Penny Tray]

The cares o’ Love are sweeter far
Than onie other pleasure;
And if sae dear its sorrows are,
Enjoyment, what a treasure!

*THE CARES O’ LOVE

[Penny Tray]

Thus bold, independent, unconquer’d, and free.
Her bright course of glory for ever shall run,
For brave Caledonia immortal must be,
I’ll prove it from Euclid as clear as the sun: -
Rectangle-triangle, the figure we’ll chuse;
The upright is Chance, and old Time is the base,
But brave Caledonia’s the hypothenuse;
Then ergo, she’ll match them, and match them always!

*CALEDONIA

[Penny Tray]

Envy, if thy jaundiced eye
Through this window chance to spy,
To thy sorrow thou shalt find,
All that’s generous, all that’s kind
Friendship, virtue, every grace,
Dwelling in this happy place.

*AT WHIGHAM’S INN, SANQUHAR

[Penny Tray]

Satan, I fear thy sooty claws,
I hate thy brunstane stink,
And ay I curse the luckless cause,
The wicked soup o’ drink.

*TO WILLIAM STEWART

[Penny Tray]

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes!
Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise!
My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream –
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream!

*SWEET AFTON

[Penny Tray]

Then know this truth, ye Sons of Men!
(Thus ends thy moral tale):
Your darkest terrors may be vain,
Your brightest hopes may fail!

*ODE ON THE DEPARTED REGENCY BILL