Poem by Robert Burns

A Jeremiad

AH, woe is me! my mother dear;
  A man of strife ye’ve born me;
For sair contention I maun bear, –
  They hate, revile, and scorn me.

I ne’er could lend on bill or bond
  That, five per cent, might blest me;
And borrowing, on the t’other hand-
  The deil a ane wad trust me.

Yet I, a coin-denied wight,
  By fortune quite discarded –
Ye see how I am, day and night,
  By lad and lass blackguarded.

1. The Highland Lassie
2. Weary Fa’ You, Duncan Gray
3. Farewell to Ballochmyle
4. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns
5. Eppie M’Nab

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