A Dedication To Gavin Hamilton, Esq. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDEBB FGHHIIAA JJBB DDDD BBBBBBIIKK BBKKLLLLBBAA AALL IIMMAAII LLAAMM AAMMNODDLLL AADD MMGGPP MMMMDDMM IIBBDDAAPPPPLLQPP AALLBB BBLLDDMMAAGGMMMM

EXPECT na sir in this narrationA
A fleechin fleth'rin DedicationA
To roose you up an' ca' you guidB
An' sprung o' great an' noble bluidB
Because ye're surnam'd like His GraceC
Perhaps related to the raceC
Then when I'm tir'd and sae are yeD
Wi' mony a fulsome sinfu' lieE
Set up a face how I stop shortB
For fear your modesty be hurtB
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This may do maun do sir wi' them whaF
Maun please the great folk for a wamefouG
For me sae laigh I need na bowH
For Lord be thankit I can ploughH
And when I downa yoke a naigI
Then Lord be thankit I can begI
Sae I shall say an' that's nae flatt'rinA
It's just sic Poet an' sic PatronA
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The Poet some guid angel help himJ
Or else I fear some ill ane skelp himJ
He may do weel for a' he's done yetB
But only he's no just begun yetB
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The Patron sir ye maun forgie meD
I winna lie come what will o' meD
On ev'ry hand it will allow'd beD
He's just nae better than he should beD
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I readily and freely grantB
He downa see a poor man wantB
What's no his ain he winna tak itB
What ance he says he winna break itB
Ought he can lend he'll no refus'tB
Till aft his guidness is abus'dB
And rascals whiles that do him wrangI
Ev'n that he does na mind it langI
As master landlord husband fatherK
He does na fail his part in eitherK
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But then nae thanks to him for a'thatB
Nae godly symptom ye can ca' thatB
It's naething but a milder featureK
Of our poor sinfu' corrupt natureK
Ye'll get the best o' moral worksL
'Mang black Gentoos and pagan TurksL
Or hunters wild on PonotaxiL
Wha never heard of orthodoxyL
That he's the poor man's friend in needB
The gentleman in word and deedB
It's no thro' terror of damnationA
It's just a carnal inclinationA
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Morality thou deadly baneA
Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slainA
Vain is his hope whase stay an' trust isL
In moral mercy truth and justiceL
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No stretch a point to catch a plackI
Abuse a brother to his backI
Steal through the winnock frae a whoreM
But point the rake that taks the doorM
Be to the poor like ony whunstaneA
And haud their noses to the grunstaneA
Ply ev'ry art o' legal thievingI
No matter stick to sound believingI
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Learn three mile pray'rs an' half mile gracesL
Wi' weel spread looves an' lang wry facesL
Grunt up a solemn lengthen'd groanA
And damn a' parties but your ownA
I'll warrant they ye're nae deceiverM
A steady sturdy staunch believerM
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O ye wha leave the springs o' CalvinA
For gumlie dubs of your ain delvinA
Ye sons of Heresy and ErrorM
Ye'll some day squeel in quaking terrorM
When Vengeance draws the sword in wrathN
And in the fire throws the sheathO
When Ruin with his sweeping besomD
Just frets till Heav'n commission gies himD
While o'er the harp pale Misery moansL
And strikes the ever deep'ning tonesL
Still louder shrieks and heavier groansL
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Your pardon sir for this digressionA
I maist forgat my DedicationA
But when divinity comes 'cross meD
My readers still are sure to lose meD
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So sir you see 'twas nae daft vapourM
But I maturely thought it properM
When a' my works I did reviewG
To dedicate them sir to youG
Because ye need na tak it illP
I thought them something like yoursel'P
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Then patronize them wi' your favorM
And your petitioner shall everM
I had amaist said ever prayM
But that's a word I need na sayM
For prayin I hae little skill o'tD
I'm baith dead sweer an' wretched ill o'tD
But I'se repeat each poor man's pray'rM
That kens or hears about you sirM
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May ne'er Misfortune's gowling barkI
Howl thro' the dwelling o' the clerkI
May ne'er his genrous honest heartB
For that same gen'rous spirit smartB
May Kennedy's far honour'd nameD
Lang beet his hymeneal flameD
Till Hamiltons at least a dizzenA
Are frae their nuptial labours risenA
Five bonie lasses round their tableP
And sev'n braw fellows stout an' ableP
To serve their king an' country weelP
By word or pen or pointed steelP
May health and peace with mutual raysL
Shine on the ev'ning o' his daysL
Till his wee curlie John's ier oeQ
When ebbing life nae mair shall flowP
The last sad mournful rites bestowP
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I will not wind a lang conclusionA
With complimentary effusionA
But whilst your wishes and endeavoursL
Are blest with Fortune's smiles and favoursL
I am dear sir with zeal most ferventB
Your much indebted humble servantB
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But if which Pow'rs above preventB
That iron hearted carl WantB
Attended in his grim advancesL
By sad mistakes and black mischancesL
While hopes and joys and pleasures fly himD
Make you as poor a dog as I amD
Your humble servant then no moreM
For who would humbly serve the poorM
But by a poor man's hopes in Heav'nA
While recollection's pow'r is giv'nA
If in the vale of humble lifeG
The victim sad of fortune's strifeG
I thro' the tender gushing tearM
Should recognise my master dearM
If friendless low we meet togetherM
Then sir your hand my Friend and BrotherM

Robert Burns



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