Robert Burns

Poetical Address to Mr. William Tytler, With the Present of the Poet’s Picture

REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart,
  Of Stuart, a name once respected,
A name which to love was the mark of a true heart,
  But now ’tis despis’d and neglected.

Tho’ something like moisture conglobes in my eye,
  Let no one misdeem me disloyal;
A poor friendless wand’rer may well claim a sigh,
  Still more if that wand’rer were royal.

My fathers that name have rever’d on a throne;
  My fathers have fallen to right it;
Those fathers would spurn their degenerate son,
  That name should he scoffingly slight it.

Still in prayers for King George I most heartily join,
  The Queen, and the rest of the gentry;
Be they wise, be they foolish, is nothing of mine;
  Their title’s avow’d by my country.

But why of this epochs make such a fuss,
  That gave us the Hanover stem?
If bringing them over was lucky for us,
  I’m sure ‘twas as lucky for them.

But, Royalty, truce! we’re on dangerous ground;
  Who knows how the fashions may alter?
The doctrine to-day that is loyalty sound.
  To-morrow may bring us a halter.

I send you a trifle, a head of a bard,
  A trifle scarce worthy your care;
But accept it, good Sir, as a mark of regard,
  Sincere as a saint’s dying prayer.

Now life’s chilly evening dim shades in your eye,
  And ushers the long dreary night;
But you, like the star that athwart gilds the sky,
  Your course to the latest is bright.