Poem by Robert Burns

Naething (Probably Addressed to Gavin Hamilton, 1786)

To you, Sir, this summons I’ve sent,
  	Pray whip till the pownie is fraething,
But if you demand what I want,
  	I honestly answer you – naething.

Ne’er scorn a poor Poet like me,
  	For idly just living and breathing,
While people of every degree
  	Are busy employed about – naething.

Poor Centum-per-centum may fast,
  	And grumble his hurdies their claithing;
He’ll find, when the balance is cast,
  	He’s gane to the devil for – naething.

The courtier cringes and bows,
  	Ambition has likewise its plaything;
A coronet beams on his brows;
  	And what is a coronet? – naething.

Some quarrel the Presbyter gown,
  	Some quarrel Episcopal graithing,
But every good fellow will own
  	Their quarrel is all about – naething.

The lover may sparkle and glow,
  	Approaching his bonnie bit gay thing:
But marriage will soon let him know
  	He’s gotten a buskit up naething.

The Poet may jingle and rhyme
  	In hopes of a laureate wreathing,
And when he has wasted his time
  	He’s kindly rewarded with naething.

The thundering bully may rage,
  	And swagger and swear like a heathen;
But collar him fast, I’ll engage,
  	You’ll find that his courage is naething.

Last night with a feminine whig,
  	A Poet she couldna put faith in,
But soon we grew lovingly big,
  	I taught her her terrors were naething.

Her whigship was wonderful pleased,
  	But charmingly tickled with ae thing;
Her fingers I lovingly squeezed,
  	And kissed her and promised her – naething.

The priest anathemas may threat, –
  	Predicament, Sir, that we’re baith in;
But when honour’s reveille is beat,
  	The holy artillery’s naething.

And now, I must mount on the wave,
  	My voyage perhaps there is death in:
But what of a watery grave?
  	The drowning a Poet is naething.

And now, as grim death’s in my thought,
  	To you, Sir, I make this bequeathing:
My service as long as ye’ve aught,
  	And my friendship, by God! when ye’ve naething.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. The Banks of Nith (THE THAMES flows proudly to the sea)
4. The Flowery Banks of Cree
5. Gala Water

Print

2891 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version