Poem by Robert Burns

To Ruin

ALL hail! inexorable lord,
At whose destruction-breathing word
  The mightiest empires fall!
Thy cruel woe-delighted train,
The ministers of grief and pain,
  A sullen welcome, all!
With stern-resolv’d despairing eye,
  I see each aimed dart;
For one has cut my dearest tie,
  And quivers in my heart.
    Then low’ring, and pouring,
      The storm no more I dread,
    Tho’ thick’ning and black’ning
      Round my devoted head.

And, thou grim pow’r, by life abhorr’d,
While life a pleasure can afford,
  Oh! hear a wretch’s pray’r!
No more I shrink appall’d, afraid;
I court, I beg thy friendly aid,
  To close this scene of care!
When shall my soul, in silent peace,
  Resign life’s joyless day?
My weary heart its throbbings cease,
  Cold-mould’ring in the clay?
    No fear more, no tear more,
      To stain my lifeless face,
    Enclasped, and grasped
      Within thy cold embrace!

1. The Day Returns
2. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns
3. Peg-A-Ramsey
4. To a Young Lady, Miss Jessy Lewars, Dumfries, with Books which the Bard Presented her
5. My Wife’s a Winsome Wee Thing

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