(A sight Life's sorrows to repulse, PROLOGUE, SPOKEN AT THE THEATRE, DUMFRIES, ON NEW-YEAR'S DAY EVENING [1790]. "We have got a set of very decent players here just now. I have seen them an evening or two. David Campbell, in Ayr, wrote to me by the manager of the company, a Mr. Sutherland, who is a man of apparent worth. On New-year's Day evening, I gave him the following prologue, which he spouted to his audience with applause."- Burns to his brother Gilbert, 11th January, 1790. No song nor dance I bring from yon great city That queens it o'er our taste. the more's the pity: - Though, by the by, abroad why will you roam? Good sense and taste are natives here at home But not for panegyric I appear, I come to wish you all a good New Year! Old Father Time deputes me here before ye, Not for to preach, but tell his simple story: The sage grave ancient coughed, and bade me say: "You're one year older this important day.” And with a would-be roguish leer and wink, "think!" Ye sprightly youths, quite flushed with hope and spirit, Who think to storm the world by dint of merit, In his sly, dry, sententious, proverb way. Yet by the forelock is the hold o catch him; brow, And humbly begs you'll mind the important Now! To crown your happiness he asks your leave, And offers bliss to give and to receive. For our sincere, though haply weak endeav ours, With grateful pride we own your many fa. vours; And howsoe'er our tongues may ill reveal it, Believe our glowing bosoms truly feel it. About this time [the end of January, 1790,] the Clarinda correspondence was for a moment renewed. Burns closed his first letter with the following song, being, he says, one of his latest productions. From few men besides Burns could any lady have expected, along with an apology for deserting her only twenty months ago, a pleasant-faced canzonet of compliment declaring the world to be lightless without love. THINE am I, my faithful fair, To thy bosom lay my heart, Though despair had wrung its core, Take away those rosy lips, Rich with balmy treasure; What is life when wanting love? PROLOGUE FOR MR. SUTHERLAND'S BENEFIT-NIGHT, DUMFRIES. Towards the conclusion of the theatrical season at Dumfries, Coila came once more to the aid of Mr. Manager Sutherland; but it cannot be said that her effusion was such as to hold forth a very favorable prognostic of dramatic effort. WHAT needs this din about the town o' Lon❜on, How this new play and that new sang is comin'? Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted? Does nonsense mend, like whisky, when imported? Is there nae poet, burning keen for fame, A fool and knave are plants of every soil. Is there no daring bard will rise, and tell 'Gainst mighty England and her guilty lord; And after monie a bloody, deathless doing, Wrenched his dear country from the jaws of ruin? O for a Shakspeare or an Otway scene, As able and as cruel as the devil! One Douglas lives in Home's immortal page, |