Poem by Richard Gall

On the Death of Burns

   Addressed to a Friend

   Sweet are the strains o' Scotia's aiten reed !
   O sweet to me the bonny sounding sang.
   That rows sae saft in our auld hamely leid.
   To which baith pith an' melody belang !
   Wi' this our Allan's canty whistle rang
   Its bonny notes o'er sunny bank an' brae
   Whare Nature's wild-flowers in profusion hang.
   An' Patie wi' his hirsle aft did stray.
An' his dear blinking PEG, sad source o' BAULDY's wae.

   O let me wander by the singin' burn.
   Or careless rest aneath some eldrin tree.
   An' study Nature in her ilka turn.
   While a' her hidden treasures feast mine e'e,
   An' eke the mind maun satisfaction pree ; —
   There listen to the lav'rock's cheery strain.
   That skims an’ flaffers o'er the gowany lea,
   A fit example to the shepherd swain,
Wlia, wi' contentment blest, right seenil suffers pain.

   'Twas thus I listened to th' enchanting lay
   O' Nature's Minstrel, Burns, o' deathless name,
   Whase heavenly notes first to my heart made way,
   An' in my very saul raised up a flame,
   That made me eident thirst for neighb'ring fame :
   But, ah ! I little deemed the day sae nigh,
   Wad light the Minstrel to his cauldrife hame,
   An' Scotia doom o'er Scotia's urn to sigh,
Whase native fire, I ween, shall never, never die.

   Yet why that tear ? Wliy heaves my bosom sae ?
   Why do my heart-strings tremble ane an' a' ?
   Has Scotia now nae youth to sooth her wae,
   An' sing her praises here an' far awa ?
   At siccan deeds her bairns were never slaw.
   Yes, Scotia, cease to mourn the Minstrel dead ;
   O cease to lat the tear o' sorrow fa' :
   Anither Burns kythes on the landwart mead ;
For B—r now wi' glee takes up the aiten reed.

   'Tis thou, my friend, canst catch fair Nature's smile—
   She bids thee pour the simple artless strain ;
   Auld Scotia listens wistfully the while,
   An' hails her days o' happiness again,
   Wlian she nae mair negleckit shall remain.
   Thus may'st thou still attune thy native lyre.
   An' a' the sweets o' rural life maintain ;
   Breathe notes that make the honest saul aspire
To truly manly deeds, an' wake the patriot fire.

1. The Braes o' Drumlee
2. My Only Joy and Dearie, O'
3. Captain o' Kain
4. Louisa in Lochaber
5. The Bonnie Blink o' Mary's E'E

Anne Grant On the Death of Burns ("WHAT adverse fate awaits the tuneful train!")

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