Poem by Robert Burns

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‘I BURN, I burn, as when thro’ ripen’d corn
By driving winds the crackling flames are borne.’
Now raving-wild, I curse that fatal night;
Now bless the hour which charm’d my guilty sight.
In vain the laws their feeble force oppose:
Chain’d at his feet they groan, Love’s vanquish’d foes;
In vain religion meets my sinking eye;
I dare not combat-but I turn and fly;
Conscience in vain upbraids th’ unhallow’d fire;
Love grasps his scorpions-stifled they expire!
Reason drops headlong from his sacred throne,
Your dear idea reigns and reigns alone:
Each thought intoxicated homage yields,
And riots wanton in forbidden fields!

  By all on high adoring mortals know!
By all the conscious villain fears below!
By your dear self!-the last great oath I swear;
Nor life nor soul were ever half so dear!

1. Fairest Maid on Devon Banks
2. The Highland Lassie
3. Weary Fa’ You, Duncan Gray
4. Farewell to Ballochmyle
5. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns

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