Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
45 But, Och! I backward cast my e'e
On prospects drear!

An' forward, tho' I canna see,

I guess an' fear !

(1-48) The tragical occurrences at Mossgiel had developed a sympa

thetic nature in Burns.

Observe where Burns is gifted with prophecy.

This poem is an example of one phase of the romantic school.

TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY

On Turning One Down With The Plough, In April, 1786.

Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r,

Thou's met me in an evil hour;

For I maun crush amang the stoure
Thy slender stem.

5 To spare thee now is past my pow'r,
Thou bonnie gem.

ΙΟ

Alas! it's no thy neebor sweet,
The bonnie Lark, companion meet!
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet!

Wi' spreckl'd breast,

When upward-springing, blythe, to greet

The purpling east.

Cauld blew the bitter-biting north

Upon thy early, humble birth; 15 Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth

Amid the storm,

Scarce rear'd above the parent-earth
Thy tender form.

The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield,

20 High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield, But thou, beneath the random bield

O' clod or stane,

Adorns the histie stibble-field,

Unseen, alane.

25 There, in thy scanty mantle clad, Thy snawie bosom sun-ward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head

30

In humble guise ;

But now the share uptears thy bed,
And low thou lies!

Such is the fate of artless Maid,
Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade !
By love's simplicity betray'd,

And guileless trust,

35 Till she, like thee, all soil'd is laid

40

Low i' the dust.

Such is the fate of simple Bard,

On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd!
Unskilful he to note the card

Of prudent lore,

Till billows rage, and gales blow hard,

And whelm him o'er !

Such fate to suffering worth is giv'n,

Who long with wants and woes has striv'n,

45 By human pride or cunning driven

To mis'ry's brink,

Till wrench'd of ev'ry stay but Heav'n
He, ruin'd, sink!

Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate,
50 That fate is thine — no distant date;
Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate,
Full on thy bloom,

Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight,
Shall be thy doom!

(1-54) Compare Bryant's treatment of his fringed gentian and Emerson's treatment of his rhodora with Burns' treatment of his daisy. A tragical prophetic strain is noticeable, and reasons may be found in the life of Burns for such. (37-42) Cf. Pope, Essay On Man:

"On life's vast ocean diversely we sail,

Reason the card, but passion is the gale."

For a fine appreciation of this poem, read Wordsworth's "Mossgiel Farm."

[blocks in formation]

Burns, with high seriousness, has again sounded the true pathos of human life.

HIGHLAND MARY

Ye banks, and braes, and streams around

The castle o' Montgomery,

Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!

5 There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;

ΙΟ

For there I took the last fareweel
O' my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk,
How rich the hawthorn's blossom;

As underneath their fragrant shade

I clasp'd her to my bosom !
The golden hours on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and my dearie;
15 For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

20

Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender;

And, pledging aft to meet again,

We tore oursels asunder;

But Oh I fell death's untimely frost,

That nipt my flower sae early!

Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!

25 O pale, pale now those rosy lips, I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly!

30

And clos'd for aye the sparkling glance,
That dwelt on me sae kindly;
And mouldering now in silent dust,

That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core,

Shall live my Highland Mary.

Where was this poem written, and what caused him to write it? What was the actual romance of his parting from Mary? In this passionate outburst of grief there is genuine feeling. Cf. "To Mary In Heaven," which he had written three years earlier.

THE BANKS OF DOON

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,

How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
little birds,

How can ye chant, ye

And I sae weary, fu' o' care!

5 Thou❜lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,

ΙΟ

That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
Departed, never to return.

Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,

To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,

And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree:
fause luver staw my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

15 And

my

What occasioned the composition of this lyric? Compare this third version with the one originally struck off, and with the second.

« ZurückWeiter »