Poems by Robert Burns. view him with the feverity of lettered criticifm, and judge him by the faftidious rules of art, will difcover that he has not the doric fimplicity of Ramfay, nor the brilliant imagi nation of Fergufon; but to thofe who admire the exertions of untutored fancy, and are blind to many faults for the fake of numberlefs beauties, his poems will afford fingular gratification. His obfervations on human characters are acute and fagacious, and his defcriptions are lively and juft. Of ruftic pleafantry he has a rich fund; and fome of his fofter scenes are touched with inimitable delicacy. He feems to be a boon companion, and often startles us with a dash of libertinifm, which will keep fome readers at a distance. Some of his fubjects are ferious, but thofe of the humorous kind are the beft. It is not meant, however, to enter into a minute investigation of his merits, as the copious extracts we have fubjoined will enable our readers to judge for themselves. The Character Horace gives to Ofellus is particularly applicable to him. Rufticus abnormis fapiens, craffaque Mi nerva. Addrefs to the DEIL. O Prince, O chief of many throned pow'rs, THOU! whatever title fuit thee, Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clootie, Wha in yon cavern grim an' footie, Clos'd under hatches, Spairges about the brunftane cootie, To fcaud poor wretches! Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An' let poor damned bodies bee; I'm fure fma' pleasure it can gie, Ev'n to a deil, To fkelp an' fcaud poor dogs like me, An' hear us fqueel! Great is thy pow'r, an' great thy fame; Far kend an' noted is thy name; An' tho' yon lowan heugb's thy hame, Thou travels far; An' faith! thou's neither lag nor lame, Nor blate nor fcaur. Whyles, ranging like a roaran lion, For prey, a' holes an' corners tryin; 185 Some cock or cat, your ragé maun stop; Aff ftraught to b-ll. Lang fyne, in Eden's bonie yard, When youthfu' lovers firft were pair'd, An' all the foul of love they fhar'd The raptur'd hour, Sweet on the fragrant, flow'ry Twaird, In fhady bow'r; Then you, ye auld, fnick-drawing dog! Ye came to paradife incog, An' play'd on man a curfed brogue, (Black be your fa'!) An' gied the infant warld a fhog, 'Maift ruin'd a'. D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz, Wi' reeket duds, an' reeftet gizz, Ye did present your fmoutie phiz 'Mang better folk, An' sklented on the man of Uzz Your fpitfu' joke! Wad ding a' Lallan tongue, or Erfe, In profe or rhyme. 'An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkan, A certain Bardie's rantin, drinkin, Some luckless hour will fend him linkan, To your black pit; But faith! he'll turn a corner jinkan, An' cheat you yet, But fare-ye-weel, auld Nickie-ben; O wad ye tak a thought an' men'! aiblins might-I dinna kenStill hae a fake I'm wie to think upo' yon den, Ev'n for your fake! Yea We regret that we have not room to infert the poems of Hallow-E'en, The Cot ter's Saturday Night, and the Epifle to a Brother Poet; and must remain content with a few mifcellaneous extracts from the poems in general. From his Epifle to a Brother Bard. UT firft an' foremost I should tell, BAmaift as foon as I could spell, To mak a fang? But by your leaves, my learned foes, What's a' your jargon o' your schools, What fairs your grammars? Ye'd better taen up fpades and fools, Or knappin bammers. A fet o' dull, conceited hashes, Confuse their brains in college-claffes! They gang in ftirks, and come out affes, Plain truth to speak; Gie me ae fpark o' Nature's fire, May touch the heart. * Vide Milton, book 6th. To chairs that day. III. Q Shakespeare's Hamlet. An' monie lads an' laffes fates II. 237 Fu' high that night. Jean flips in twa wi' tentie e'e; But this is Jock, an' this is me, He bleez'd owre her, and the owre him, Till, fuff! he started up the lum, III. To fee't that night, Wee Jenny to her graunie fays, I gat frae uncle Johnie :' Her braw new worset apron Out thro' that night. • Ye little skelpie-limmer's face! For him to fpae your fortune: V. On fic a night.' Then up gat fechtan Jamie Fleck, For it was a' but nonfenfe. The auld guidman raught down the pock, Syne bad him flip frae 'mang the folk, VI. He marches thro' amang the stacks, An' haurls at his curpan; As faft this night.. Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the lad and lafs to each particular nut as they lay them in the fire; and according as they burn quietly together or start from befide one another, the courfe and iffue of the courtship will be. Take a candle and go alone to a looking-glafs: eat an apple before it, and fome traditions fay you should comb your hair all the time: the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be feen in the glafs, as if peeping over your shoulder. VII. He was fae fley'd an' eerie : Out owre that night. He roar'd a horrid murder-hoot, An' hear the fad narration: IX. Afteer that night?! She turns the key wi' cannie thraw, But first on Sawnie gies a ca,' Syne bauldly in the enters. A ratton rattl'd up the wa,' An' fhe cr'yd, L-d preferve her! XI. * This charm must likewife be performed unperceived and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges, if poffible; for there is danger that the being, about to appear, may fhut the doors, and do you fome mifchief. Then take that inftrument ufed in winnowing the corn, which, in our country-dialect, we call a wecht, and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door and out at the other, having both the figure in question and the appearance or retinue, marking the employment or station in life. Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a bear-ftack, and fathom it three times round. The laft fathom of the laft time you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow. You go out, one or more, for this is a focial fpell, to a fouth running fpring or rivulet, where three lairds lands meet,' and dip your left shirt-deeve. Go to bed in fight of a fire, and hang your wet fleeve before it to dry. Lie awake; and fome time'near midnight an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the Deeve, as if to dry the other fide of it. + Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, and leave the third empty: blindfold a perfon, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or the) dips the left hand: if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony a maid: if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretels, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times; and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered. |