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Poem by Richard Gall


Verses Written on Visiting the House in Which the Celebrated Robert Burns Was Born, and the Surrounding Scenery, in Autumn 1799


O but it makes my heart fu sair, 
The lowly blast-worn bower to see, 
Whare infant Genius wont to smile, 
Whare brightened first the Poets ee!

Burns, heavenly Bard! twas here thy mind 
Traced ilka object wildly grand; 
Here first thou caught dame Natures fire, 
An snatched the pencil from her hand.

Bleak Autumn now reigns oer these scenes, 
The yellow leaves fa aff the tree; 
But never shall the laurel fade, 
That Scotias Muse has twined for thee.

O Doon! aft wad he tent thy stream, 
Whan roaming near thy flowery thorn, 
An sweetly sing departed joys, 
Departed, never to return!

 An near thy bonny crystal wave, 
Reft o its rose we find the brier, 
Beneath whase shade he wont to lean, 
An press the cheek o Jeanie dear.

Oer yonder heights, in simmer tide, 
His canty whistle aften rang; 
An this the bank, an this the brae, 
That echoed back the Ploughmans sang.

But whare is now his wonted glee, 
That sic enchanting pleasure gave? 
Ah me! cauld lies the Poets head; 
The wintry blast howls oer his grave!

To ither lands the Poets gane, 
Frae which the traveller neer returns; 
While Nature lilts a waefu sang, 
An oer her Shakspeare Scotia mourns.



Richard Gall


Richard Gall's other poems:
  1. My Only Joy and Dearie, O'
  2. The Braes O' Drumlee
  3. The Bonnie Blink O' Mary's E'E
  4. The Hazel Wood Witch
  5. Captain O' Kain


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