Poem by Robert Burns

To Captain Riddel, Glenriddel

Extempore lines on returning a newspaper

YOUR News and Review, Sir, I’ve read through and through, Sir,
  With little admiring or blaming;
The papers are barren of home-news or foreign,
  No murders or rapes worth the naming.

Our friends the Reviewers, those chippers and hewers,
  Are judges of mortar and stone, Sir;
But of meet or unmeet in a fabric complete,
  I’ll boldly pronounce they are none, Sir.

My goose-quill too rude is to tell all your goodness
  Bestow’d on your servant, the Poet;
Would to God I had one like a beam of the sun,
  And then all the world, Sir, should know it!

1. Their Groves O’ sweet Myrtle
2. The Bonnie Wee Thing
3. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
4. Gala Water
5. Stay My Charmer

Print

3695 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version