The Canongate Burns. Robert Burns

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      Their labors ply.

      ‘They SCOTIA’S Race among them share:

      20 Some fire the Sodger on to dare;

      Some rouse the Patriot up to bare

      Corruption’s heart;

      Some teach the Bard, a darling care,

      The tuneful Art.

      25 ’Mong swelling floods of reeking gore, smoking

      They, ardent, kindling spirits pour;

      Or,’ mid the venal Senate’s roar,

      They, sightless, stand,

      To mend the honest Patriot-lore,

      30 And grace the hand.

      ‘And when the Bard, or hoary Sage,

      Charm or instruct the future age,

      They bind the wild Poetic rage

      In energy;

      35 Or point the inconclusive page

      Full on the eye.

‘Hence, FULLARTON, the brave and young;10

Hence, DEMPSTER’S zeal-inspirèd tongue;11

Hence, sweet, harmonious BEATTIE sung12

      40 His “Minstrel lays”;

      Or tore, with noble ardour stung,

      The Sceptic’s bays’.

      ‘To lower Orders are assign’d

      The humbler ranks of Human-kind,

      45 The rustic Bard, the lab’ring Hind,

      The Artisan;

      All chuse, as various they’re inclin’d,

      The various man.

      ‘When yellow waves the heavy grain,

      50 The threat’ning Storm some strongly rein,

      Some teach to meliorate the plain,

      With tillage-skill;

      And some instruct the Shepherd-train,

      Blythe o’er the hill.

      55 ‘Some hint the Lover’s harmless wile;

      Some grace the Maiden’s artless smile;

      Some soothe the Lab’rer’s weary toil

      For humble gains,

      And make his cottage-scenes beguile

      60 His cares and pains.

      ‘Some, bounded to a district-space,

      Explore at large Man’s infant race,

      To mark the embryotic trace

      Of rustic Bard;

      65 And careful note each op’ning grace,

      A guide and guard.

      ‘Of these am I — COILA my name;

      And this distrìct as mine I claim,

      Where once the Campbells, chiefs of fame,

      70 Held ruling pow’r:

      I mark’d thy embryo-tuneful flame,

      Thy natal hour.

      ‘With future hope I oft would gaze,

      Fond, on thy little early ways;

      75 Thy rudely caroll’d, chiming phrase,

      In uncouth rhymes;

      Fir’d at the simple, artless lays

      Of other times.

      ‘I saw thee seek the sounding shore,

      80 Delighted with the dashing roar;

      Or when the North his fleecy store

      Drove thro’ the sky,

      I saw grim Nature’s visage hoar,

      Struck thy young eye.

      85 ‘Or when the deep green-mantled Earth

      Warm-cherish’d ev’ry floweret’s birth,

      And joy and music pouring forth

      In ev’ry grove;

      I saw thee eye the gen’ral mirth

      90 With boundless love.

      ‘When ripen’d fields and azure skies

      Call’d forth the Reaper’s rustling noise,

      I saw thee leave their ev’ning joys,

      And lonely stalk,

      95 To vent thy bosom’s swelling rise,

      In pensive walk.

      ‘When youthful Love, warm-blushing, strong,

      Keen-shivering, shot thy nerves along,

      Those accents grateful to thy tongue,

      100 Th’ adored Name,

      I taught thee how to pour in song

      To soothe thy flame.

      ‘I saw thy pulse’s maddening play,

      Wild-send thee Pleasure’s devious way,

      105 Misled by Fancy’s meteor-ray,

      By Passion driven;

      But yet the light that led astray

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