is so hackneyed by prostituted learning, that honest rustieity is ashamed of it. Nor do I present this Address with the venal soul of a servile Author, looking for a continuation of those favours: I was bred to the plough, and am independent. I come to claim the common Scottish name with you, my illustrious Countrymen; and to tell the world that I glory in the title. I come to congratulate my Country, that the blood of her ancient Heroes still runs uncontaminated; and that from your courage, knowledge, and public spirit, she may expect protection, wealth, and liberty. In the last place, I come to proffer my warmest wishes to the Great Fountain of Honour, the Monarch of the Universe, for your welfare and happiness.

When you go forth to waken the Echoes, in the ancient and favourite amusement of your Forefathers, may Pleasure ever be of your party; and may social Joy await your return! When harassed in courts or camps with the justlings of bad men and bad measures, may the honest consciousness of injured Worth attend your return to your native seats; and may Domestic Happiness, with a smiling welcome, meet you at your gates! May corruption shrink at your kindling indignant glance; and may Tyranny in the Ruler, and Licentiousness in the People, equally find you an inexorable foe!

I have the honour to be,

With the sincerest gratitude, and highest respect,
My Lords and Gentlemen,

Your most devoted, humble servant,

EDINBURGH, April 4th, 1787.

ROBERT BURNS.

CONTENTS

The Author's earnest Cry and Prayer to the Scotch

Representatives in the House of Commons

19

28

40

50

61

68

Poor Mailie's Elegy

To J. S****

A Dream.

The Vision

Address to the Unco Guid, or the Rigidly Righteous

Tam Samson's Elegy

Halloween

The Auld Farmer's New-Year Morning Salutation

to his Auld Mare Maggie .

To a Mouse .

A Winter Night.

Epistle to Davie, a Brother Poet

The Lament .

Despondency. An Ode

113

117

124

140

Man was made to Mourn. A Dirge
A Prayer in the Prospect of Death.
Stanzas on the same Occasion

Verses left at a Friend's House

The First Psalm

Year's Gift

The First Six Verses of the Ninetieth Psalm]

To a Mountain Daisy

To Miss L- with Beattie's Poems, for a New-

Epistle to a Young Friend

199

201

On a Scottish Bard gone to the West Indies

To a Haggis.

To a Louse, on seeing one on a Lady's Bonnet at

A Fragment, "When Guildford good our Pilot stood" 266

Song, "It was upon a Lammas Night".

Song, "Now westlin winds, and slaught’ring guns”

271

274

Song, "Behind yon hills where Lugar flows"

Green grow the Rashes. A Fragment

Song, "Again rejoicing Nature sees”

.280

283

Song, "The gloomy night is gathering fast”

Song, "From thee, Eliza, I must go"

290

The Farewell, to the Brethren of St. James's Lodge,

Song, "No churchman am I for to rail and to write" 295

Written

Written in Friars Carse Hermitage.

Ode to the Memory of Mrs., of

Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson

Lament of Mary Queen of Scots

To Robert Graham, Esq. of Fintra

Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn

Lines sent to Sir John Whitefoord, with the foregoing

On seeing a wounded hare a fellow had shot at
Address to the Shade of Thomson

Song, "Anna, thy charms my bosom fire"

On the Death of John M'Leod .

Humble Petition of Bruar Water

On scaring some Water-fowl.

Written at the Inn at Taymouth

at the Fall of Fyers

372

Second Epistle to Davie, a Brother Poet.

APPENDIX, containing some particulars of the His-

tory of the Poems in this Volume, by GILBERT

ADIEU! a heart-warm, fond adieu! .

Admiring Nature in her wildest grace

Again rejoicing Nature sees

Again the silent wheels of time.

A guid New-year I wish thee, Maggie!

All hail! inexorable lord!

Among the heathy hills and ragged woods

Anna, thy charms my bosom fire! .

As Mailie an' her lambs thegither

A' ye wha live by soups o' drink

Beauteous rose-bud, young and gay

Behind yon hills where Lugar flows

Below thir stanes lie Jamie's banes

Dear S****, the sleest, paukie thief

Dweller in yon dungeon dark

Edina! Scotia's darling seat!

Expect na, Sir, in this narration

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face

From thee, Eliza, I must go
Green grow the rashes, O

Guid-mornin to your Majesty!

Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie

Has auld K********* seen the Deil?

Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots

Here