The sultry suns of summer came, The sober autumn enter'd mild, When he grew wan and pale; His bending joints and drooping head His colour sicken'd more and more, He faded into age; Anl then his enemies began To show their deadly rage. They 've ta'en a weapon long and sharp, And cut him by the knee; Then tied him fast upon a cart, Like a rogue for forgerie. They laid him down upon his back, They hung him up before the storm, They filled up a darksome pit They laid him out upon the floor, To work him further woe, And still, as signs of life appear'd, 30 35 40 They wasted o'er a scorching flame The marrow of his bones; But a miller used him worst of all, For he crush'd him 'tween two stones. And they hae ta'en his very heart's blood, And still the more and more they drank, John Barleycorn was a hero bold, For if you do but taste his blood, 'T will make your courage rise. 'T will make a man forget his woe; 'T will make the widow's heart to sing, Then let us toast John Barleycorn, Each man a glass in hand; And may his great posterity Ne'er fail in old Scotland! 45 50 55 60 BURNS. THE HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER. TO THE NOBLE DUKE OF ATHOL. My Lord, I know your noble ear Dry-withering, waste my foamy streams, 5 228 THE HUMBLE PETITION OF BRUAR WATER. The lightly-jumpin', glowrin' trouts, If, hapless chance! they linger lang, They're left, the whitening stanes amang, In gasping death to wallow. staring 10 15 Last day I grat wi' spite and teen, wept grief As Poet Burns came by, That, to a bard, I should be seen Wi' half my channel dry: He, kneeling, wad adored me. Here, foaming down the shelvy rocks, There, high my boiling torrent smokes, Enjoying large each spring and well, As nature gave them me, I am, although I say 't mysel, Worth gaun a mile to see. Would then my noble master please To grant my highest wishes, He'll shade my banks wi' towering trees You'll wander on my banks, 20 offered 25 precipice 30 going 35 Shall sweetly join the choir: The blackbird strong, the lintwhite clear, linnet 45 The mavis mild and mellow; thrush This, too, a covert shall ensure, To shield them from the storms; And coward maukins sleep secure, Low in their grassy forms: To weave his crown of flowers; Or find a sheltering safe retreat, And here, by sweet endearing stealth, Despising worlds, with all their wealth, The flowers shall vie in all their charms The hour of heaven to grace, To screen the dear embrace. And birks extend their fragrant arms Here haply too, at vernal dawn, 50 ares 55 60 beech-trees 65 Some musing bard may stray, And eye the smoking, dewy lawn, And misty mountain, grey; Or, by the reaper's nightly beam, 70 Let lofty firs, and ashes cool My lowly banks o'erspread, And view, deep-bending in the pool, 75 Let fragrant birks in woodbines drest And, for the little songster's nest, The close embowering thorn. So may old Scotia's darling hope, Your little angel band, Spring, like their fathers, up to prop Their honour'd native land! So may through Albionugh's farthest ken, To social-flowing glasses, The grace be-"Athol's honest men, And Athol's bonnie lasses!" BURNS. 80 85 EPITAPH ON MRS. MASON. TAKE, holy earth! all that my soul holds dear: Speak, dead Maria! breathe a strain divine: Ev'n from the grave thou shalt have power to charm. |