My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young; Her face is fair, her heart is true, A country lad is my degree, My riches a's my penny-fee, An' I maun guide it cannie, O; Our auld guidman delights to view Come weel, come woe, I care na by, But live, an' love my Nannie, O. But sometimes the meeting was more re strained, and consisted only of a conversation, like that between Romeo and Juliet, from the elevation of a balcony. Whether the Capulets and Montagues winked at this arrangement, or 266304 A whether it occurred without their knowledge, the effect was the same. An acquaintance was commenced, which in due time ended in matrimony; and if unfortunately broken off by the fickleness of the lady, it furnished, at least, excellent ground for the lover's lamentation. One of Burns' earliest songs was addressed to a maid who seems to have promised an interview at the window; and we are to gather from the tenderness and pathos of the words, that she sometimes did not keep true to her engagement. O Mary, at thy window be, It is the wish'd, the trysted hour! Yestreen, when to the trembling string I sat, but neither heard or saw: O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace, Wha for thy sake wad gladly die? If love for love thou wilt na gie, The thought o' Mary Morison. There are many other ballads, both grave and gay, which it would be a pleasure to quote, and many also of his longer and more ambitious efforts, which have taken their place in our language as poems properly so called. The best known of these is the "Cotter's Saturday Night." With the exception of very few stanzas, and an occasional expression, this poem is in English. It has therefore stood the test of comparison with the works of acknowledged English poets, and has not suffered side by side. with either Crabbe or Wordsworth. "The short and simple annals of the poor" were never so tenderly delivered; and if in such escapades as "Holy Willie's Prayer," and the "Kirk in Danger," Burns had lashed the vices of hypocrisy and pretension, far deeper was his feeling—as shown in this patriarchal picture—of the beauty of true religion and sincere domestic piety. It ought to be accepted as an apology and atonement for the over-vehemence of his attacks on the false and cruel. And it was so accepted in many a pious household in his native land. Many a strict disciplinarian is softened as he thinks of this poem; and when the wilder portion of the poet's works is mentioned, says"Ah! but he could na have been altogether bad; he must have had fine feelings in him, and a reverent regard for goodness, the man that wrote the 'Cotter's Saturday Night." ووو He must have had more. He must have had a Wilkie-like power of producing a family scene, and endowing it with life and sentiment. It is a group forming a delightful companion to the fireside picture by Goldsmith of the Vicar of Wakefield. My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend! With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end: My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What Aikin in a cottage would have been; Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween! November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh; The short'ning winter-day is near a close ; This night his weekly moil is at an end, At length his lonely cot appears in view, Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher thro' His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie Wifie's smile, Does a' his weary kiaugh and care beguile, Belyve, the elder bairns cam drapping in, Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e, Comes hame, perhaps to shew a braw new gown, Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. With joy unfeign'd, brothers and sisters meet, Their master's an' their mistress's command, And mind your duty, duly, morn and night! Implore His counsel and assisting might: They never sought in vain, that sought the Lord aright!" |