The Canongate Burns

by Robert Burns

  See notes to Epitaph: On Robert Fergusson. These lines were inscribed by Burns in a copy of Fergusson’s poetry he gifted to Rebeccah Carmichael on 19th March 1787, when he was in Edinburgh.

  On Robert Fergusson – II

  First printed in The Scots Magazine, November 1803.

  ILL-FATED Genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson,

  What heart that feels and will not yield a tear,

  To think Life’s sun did set e’er well begun

  To shed its influence on thy bright career.

  O why should truest Worth and Genius pine

  Beneath the iron grasp of Want and Woe,

  While titled knaves and idiot-greatness shine

  In all the splendour Fortune can bestow?

  These lines were inscribed by Burns in a copy of the periodical The World. The enraged sentiments are heart felt and largely accurate in terms of Fergusson’s untimely fate and prophetic with regard to his own.

  To a Painter

  First printed in Chambers, 1851.

  DEAR –, I’ll gie ye some advice, give

  You’ll tak it no uncivil: take

  You shouldna paint at angels, man, should not

  But try and paint the Devil.

  To paint an angel’s kittle wark, tricky work

  Wi’ Nick there ’s little danger; the Devil

  You’ll easy draw a lang-kent face, long-known

  But no sae weel a stranger. so well

  R.B.

  There is no definitive manuscript proof that Burns wrote these lines. It is claimed the verses were written by Burns on the back of a sketch by an Edinburgh artist, whose identity is unknown. Kinsley merely refers to the Chambers-Wallace remarks (Vol. IV, p. 309) on the alleged origin of the lines. The verses are in the colloquial, impromptu style of Burns. Previous editors have probably been right to accept them.

  On Elphinstone’s Translation of Martial

  First printed in Stewart, 1801.

  O Thou, whom Poesy abhors,

  Whom Prose has turnèd out of doors;

  Heard’st thou yon groan? — proceed no further!

  ’Twas laurel’d Martial calling, Murther!

  James Elphinstone (1721–1809) translated Martial’s Epigrams and published them in 1782. Burns records in a letter of 14th January 1788 that ‘somebody’ presented him with the translations while he was in Edinburgh and ‘asked my opinion of it’ (see Letter 178). The poet viewed the book and after requesting permission to write his response on a blank leaf of the edition delivered the deadly evaluation.

  To the Guidwife of Wauchope House

  – Mrs. Scott

  First printed (incomplete) by Currie, 1800.

  Guidwife, good

  I mind it weel, in early date, well

  When I was beardless, young and blate, bashful

  An’ first cou’d thresh the barn,

  5 Or haud a yokin at the pleugh, hold, harnesses, plough

  An’ tho’ fu’ foughten sair eneugh, exhausted, sore enough

  Yet unco proud to learn. mighty

  When first amang the yellow corn among

  A man I reckon’d was;

  10 An’ wi’ the lave ilk merry morn others, each

  Could rank my rig and lass; ridge

  Still shearing, and clearing

  The tither stooked raw; other, row/sheaths

  Wi’ clavers an’ haivers gossip, nonsense

  15 Wearing the day awa: away

  E’en then, a wish (I mind its power)

  A wish, that to my latest hour

  Shall strongly heave my breast;

  That I for poor auld Scotland’s sake old

  20 Some useful plan, or book could make,

  Or sing a sang at least. song

  The rough burr-thistle spreading wide Scots thistle

  Amang the bearded bear, among, barley

  I turn’d the weeding heuk aside, hook/hoe

  25 An’ spar’d the symbol dear.

  No nation, no station

  My envy e’er could raise:

  A Scot still, but blot still, without

  I knew nae higher praise. no

  30 But still the elements o’ sang song

  In formless jumble, right an’ wrang, wrong

  Wild floated in my brain;

  Till on that hairst I said before, harvest

  My partner in the merry core, crowd

  35 She rous’d the forming strain.

  I see her yet, the sonsie quean, buxom girl

  That lighted up my jingle;

  Her pauky smile, her kittle een, shrewd eyes

  That gart my heart-strings tingle. made

  40 So tiched, bewitched,

  I raved ay to mysel; look

  But bashing and dashing,

  I kend na how to tell. always

  Hale to the sex, ilk guid chiel says, each good man

  45 Wi’ merry dance in winter-days,

  An’ we to share in common:

  The gust o’ joy, the balm of woe,

  The saul o’ life, the heav’n below, soul

  Is rapture-giving woman.

  50 Ye surly sumphs, who hate the name, boors

  Be mindfu’ o’ your mither: mother

  She, honest woman, may think shame

  That ye’re connected with her.

  Ye’re wae men, ye’re nae men, sad, no

  55 That slight the lovely dears:

  To shame ye, disclaim ye,

  Ilk honest birkie swears. each, fellow

  For you, na bred to barn and byre,

  Wha sweetly tune the Scottish lyre, who

  60 Thanks to you for your line.

  The marl’d plaid ye kindly spare, multi-coloured

  By me should gratefully be ware; worn

  ‘Twad please me to the Nine. utmost

  I’d be mair vauntie o’ my hap, more proud, clothes

  65 Douce hingin owre my curple, soberly, over, crupper

  Than ony ermine ever lap, any, folded

  Or proud imperial purple.

  Farewell then, lang hale then, long health

  An’ plenty be your fa’: lot

  70 May losses and crosses

  Ne’er at your hallan ca’. doorway/hall, call

  R. Burns. March, 1787

  Among the many verse epistles Burns received after the publication of his Kilmarnock edition, one of the best was by Elizabeth Scott (1729–89) of Wauchope House, by Jedburgh. The poet visited her during his Border tour on 10th May 1787, describing her favourably but castigating her ‘hottentot’ husband. Mrs Scott was married to a Walter Scott and was a niece of the poetess, Alison Cockburn. Her epistle to Burns appeared in the Scottish press during early 1796, probably sent to the press by Burns himself. Lines 25–30 of her work would have pleased the poet:

  An’ then sae slee ye crack yer jokes

  O’ Willie Pitt and Charlie Fox.

  Our Great men a’ sae weel descrive,

  An’ how to gar the nation thrive,

  Ane maist wad swear ye dwalt amang them,

  An’ as ye saw them, sae ye sang them.

  Indeed, Mrs Scott identifies exactly the unique vernacular quality of the subtly undermining intimacy Burns achieves with the political objects of his satire. It is this uniquely intimate tone that is one of our major reasons for accepting The Dagger and A New Song, into the canon.

  Coleridge’s enormous admiration for Burns’s vernacular poetry (only Cowper of his English contemporaries found him linguistically opaque) achieved particular expression in stanza 3 in the thistle image:

  I cannot here refuse myself the pleasure of recording a speech of the Poet Burns, related to me by the lady to whom it was addressed (Letter 541). Having been asked by her, why in his more serious Poems he had not changed the two or three Scotch words which seemed only to disturb the purity of the style? the poet with great sweetness and his usual happiness in reply, answered why in truth it would have been better, but (quotes ll. 20–24). An author may be a
llowed to quote from his own poems, when he does it with as much modesty and felicity as Burns did in this instance (Low, The Critical Heritage, p. 109).

  To Miss Isabella McLeod

  First printed in Chambers-Wallace, 1896.

  The crimson blossom charms the bee,

  The summer sun the swallow;

  So dear this tuneful gift to me

  From lovely Isabella.

  Her portrait fair upon my mind

  Revolving time shall mellow;

  And Mem’ry’s latest effort find

  The lovely Isabella.

  No Bard nor lover’s rapture this,

  In fancies vain and shallow;

  She is, so come my soul to bliss!

  The lovely Isabella.

  Edinburgh, March 16, 1787

  Isabella McLeod was a sister of John McLeod (See On the Death of John McLeod), whose father was McLeod of Raasay. Her sister was the Countess of Loudon and it is probably this connection, through Mrs Dunlop, that led to her meeting the poet. Kinsley suggests that Gavin Hamilton may have introduced Burns to her.

  Extempore in the Court of Session

  Tune: Gilliecrankie

  First printed by Cromek, 1808.

  LORD ADVOCATE

  He clench’d his pamphlets in his fist,

  He quoted and he hinted,

  Till in a declamation-mist,

  5 His argument, he tint it: lost it

  He gaped for ’t, he graped for ’t, groped

  He fand it was awa, man; found, away

  But what his common sense came short,

  He eked out wi’ law, man.

  10 MR. ERSKINE

  Collected, HARRY stood awee, a moment

  Then open’d out his arm, man;

  His lordship sat wi’ ruefu’ e’e, eye

  And ey’d the gathering storm, man:

  15 Like wind-driv’n hail it did assail,

  Or torrents owre a linn, man; over, waterfall

  The BENCH sae wise lift up their eyes, so

  Hauf-wauken’d wi’ the din, man. half-wakened

  In 1787 Burns attanded the Court of Session to witness the case of Maxwell Campbell vrs. Captain James Montgomerie, who fathered a child by the former’s wife. Harry Erskine (1746–1817) was the Dean of the Faculty and Ilay Campbell (1734–1823), Lord Advocate (prior to Robert Dundas taking the position). Erskine became a friend and patron of Burns, who, here catches perfectly the famous torrent of his allusive legal rhetoric.

  Extempore Epistle to Mr. M’adam of Craigengillan

  In Answer to an Obliging Letter He Sent in the

  Commencement of my Poetic Career. Written in Nanse

  Tinnock’s, Mauchline.

  First printed by Cromek, 1808.

  Sir, o’er a gill I gat your card, whisky, got

  I trow it made me proud; pledge

  See wha taks notice o’ the Bard! who takes

  I lap and cry’d fu’ loud. — leapt, full

  5 Now deil-ma-care about their jaw, little may, talk

  The senseless, gawky million;

  I’ll cock my nose aboon them a’, above, all

  I’m roos’d by Craigengillan.— praised

  ’Twas noble, Sir; ‘twas like yoursel,

  10 To grant your high protection:

  A great man’s smile ye ken fu’ well, you know full

  Is ay a blest infection. — always

  Tho’, by his banes wha in a tub bones who

  Match’d Macedonian Sandy!1

  15 On my ain legs thro’ dirt and dub, own

  I independent stand ay. — always

  And when those legs to gude warm kail good, broth

  Wi’ welcome canna bear me; cannot

  A lee dyke-side, a sybow-tail, stone-wall, onion-

  20 An’ barley-scone shall cheer me. —

  Heaven spare you lang to kiss the breath long

  O’ monie flowery simmers! many

  An’ bless your bonie lasses baith, girls both

  I’m tauld they’re loosome kimmers! told, lovable girls

  25 An’ God bless young Dunaskin’s laird,2

  The blossom of our gentry!

  An’ may he wear an auld man’s beard, old

  A credit to his country!

  John McAdam was an agricultural improver known to Burns (by repute) through his friend David Woodburn, factor of Craigengillan, an estate south of Mauchline. Editors prior to Kinsley suggest the poem was written in 1786, after the publication of the Kilmarnock edition; but Kinsley, on the basis that McAdam only appears in the addenda of the Edinburgh subscription list, takes this as indication that the poet’s link with McAdam occurs only in 1787. This appears to be a case of switching one assumption for another, then having to argue that Burns must have misdated the poem in his Glenriddel Manuscript. It is probable Burns wrote it when and where he states, that McAdam’s late subscription to the Edinburgh edition has no connection with the above poem, written as a response to a letter.

  1 Diogenes. R.B.

  2 Col. Quinton McAdam, son of John McAdam.

  Prologue:

  Spoken by Mr. Woods on his Benefit Night

  Monday, 16th April, 1787.

  First printed by Stewart, 1801.

  WHEN by a generous Public’s kind acclaim,

  That dearest meed is granted — honest fame;

  When here your favour is the actor’s lot,

  Nor even the man in private life forgot;

  5 What breast so dead to heav’nly Virtue’s glow,

  But heaves impassion’d with the grateful throe.

  Poor is the task to please a barb’rous throng,

  It needs no Siddons’s1 powers in Southern’s song;

  But here an ancient nation fam’d afar,

  10 For genius, learning high, as great in war —

  Hail, CALEDONIA, name for ever dear!

  Before whose sons I’m honor’d to appear!

  Where every science — every nobler art —

  That can inform the mind, or mend the heart,

  15 Is known; as grateful nations oft have found

  Far as the rude barbarian marks the bound.

  Philosophy, no idle pedant dream,

  Here holds her search by heaven-taught Reason’s beam;

  Here History paints, with elegance and force,

  20 The tide of Empire’s fluctuating course;

  Here Douglas2 forms wild Shakspeare into plan,

  And Harley3 rouses all the God in man.

  When well-form’d taste, and sparkling wit unite,

  With manly lore, or female beauty bright,

  25 (Beauty, where faultless symmetry and grace

  Can only charm us in the second place,)

  Witness my heart, how oft with panting fear,

  As on this night, I’ve met these judges here!

  But still the hope Experience taught to live,

  30 Equal to judge — you’re candid to forgive.

  No hundred-headed Riot here we meet,

  With Decency and Law beneath his feet;

  Nor Insolence assumes fair Freedom’s name;

  Like CALEDONIANS, you applaud or blame.

  35 O Thou, dread Power! Whose empire-giving hand

  Has oft been stretch’d to shield the honor’d land!

  Strong may she glow with all her ancient fire;

  May every son be worthy of his sire;

  Firm may she rise with generous disdain

  40 At Tyranny’s, or direr Pleasure’s chain;

  Still self-dependent in her native shore,

  Bold may she brave grim Danger’s loudest roar,

  Till Fate the curtain drop on worlds to be no more!

  William Woods (1751–1802), an English actor, moved to Edinburgh during the 1770s and pursued his dramatic career there. He was latterly a friend of the poet Robert Fergusson and is mentioned in Fergusson’s Last Will. It was probably this connection that drew Burns to Woods, who played ‘Ford’ in The Merry Wiv
es of Windsor during his benefit night on 16th April, 1787. Stewart (1801) took his text from a newspaper publication, while Henley and Henderson’s version is from an early draft.

  This poem is far more complicit than Address to Edinburgh with the genteel capital’s deep but doubtful self-regard in aesthetics and social matters. Ironically, given Woods’ friendship with Fergusson, it is the very antithesis of Fergusson’s satirical vision of the middle class ‘national’ sentimentality of Edinburgh’s propertied classes. Ll. 30–1 are also particularly unBurnsian. Consciously or otherwise, the Scots Prologue later written for the Dumfries theatre almost exactly reverses what is said here about Scotland and poetry.

  1 Sarah Siddons (1755–1831), an English actress who played at Edinburgh in the 1780s.

  2 John Home’s tragedy Douglas (1756) was viewed by many Scots as an improvement to Shakespeare.

  3 The Man of Feeling, wrote by Mr MacKenzie. R.B.

  Where Wit May Sparkle –

  To William Dunbar of the Crochallan Fencibles

  First published here as lines by Burns.

  Where Wit may sparkle all its rays,

  Uncurst with Caution’s fears;

  And Pleasure, basking in the blaze,

  Rejoice for endless years.

  These lines were written by Burns in a letter of 30th April, 1787 to William Dunbar, the Rattlin Roarin Willie of Burns’s song and Colonel of the convivial, radical Enlightenment club, the Crochallan Fencibles. They are introduced ‘… I have a strong fancy that in some future excentric Planet, the Comet of a happier System than any which Astronomy is yet acquainted, you and I, among the harum-scarum Sons of Imagination and Whim, shall recognise OLD AQUAINTANCE –’ (Letter 99). There are no quotation marks to indicate they are by another author. Burns normally marks the work of other authors with quotation marks, or applies the poet’s name. No editor of the collected letters suggests an author, nor have the lines been identified as the work of Burns or another. The letter first appeared with Hogg and Motherwell’s edition in 1835, but since, no one has commented on the lines. As they are in the poet’s hand and without quotation marks, it is almost certain they are his.