Epistle On J. Lapraik Poem Rhyme Scheme

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WHILE briers an' woodbines budding green	A
An' paitricks scraichin loud at e'en	B
An' morning poussie whiddin seen	A
Inspire my muse	C
This freedom in an unknown frien'	A
I pray excuse	D
	-
	-
On Fasten e'en we had a rockin	A
To ca' the crack and weave our stockin	A
And there was muckle fun and jokin	A
Ye need na doubt	E
At length we had a hearty yokin	A
At sang about	E
	-
	-
There was ae sang amang the rest	F
Aboon them a' it pleas'd me best	F
That some kind husband had addrest	F
To some sweet wife	G
It thirl'd the heart strings thro' the breast	F
A' to the life	G
	-
	-
I've scarce heard ought describ'd sae weel	H
What gen'rous manly bosoms feel	H
Thought I Can this be Pope or Steele	H
Or Beattie's wark	I
They tauld me 'twas an odd kind chiel	H
About Muirkirk	I
	-
	-
It pat me fidgin fain to hear't	F
An' sae about him there I speir't	F
Then a' that kent him round declar'd	F
He had ingine	A
That nane excell'd it few cam near't	F
It was sae fine	A
	-
	-
That set him to a pint of ale	H
An' either douce or merry tale	H
Or rhymes an' sangs he'd made himsel	H
Or witty catches	J
'Tween Inverness an' Teviotdale	H
He had few matches	J
	-
	-
Then up I gat an' swoor an aith	K
Tho' I should pawn my pleugh an' graith	K
Or die a cadger pownie's death	K
At some dyke back	I
A pint an' gill I'd gie them baith	K
To hear your crack	I
	-
	-
But first an' foremost I should tell	H
Amaist as soon as I could spell	H
I to the crambo jingle fell	H
Tho' rude an' rough	L
Yet crooning to a body's sel'	H
Does weel eneugh	L
	-
	-
I am nae poet in a sense	M
But just a rhymer like by chance	N
An' hae to learning nae pretence	N
Yet what the matter	O
Whene'er my muse does on me glance	N
I jingle at her	O
	-
	-
Your critic folk may cock their nose	N
And say How can you e'er propose	N
You wha ken hardly verse frae prose	N
To mak a sang	I
But by your leaves my learned foes	N
Ye're maybe wrang	I
	-
	-
What's a' your jargon o' your schools	N
Your Latin names for horns an' stools	N
If honest Nature made you fools	N
What sairs your grammars	N
Ye'd better taen up spades and shools	N
Or knappin hammers	N
	-
	-
A set o' dull conceited hashes	N
Confuse their brains in college classes	N
They gang in stirks and come out asses	N
Plain truth to speak	I
An' syne they think to climb Parnassus	N
By dint o' Greek	I
	-
	-
Gie me ae spark o' nature's fire	O
That's a' the learning I desire	O
Then tho' I drudge thro' dub an' mire	P
At pleugh or cart	F
My muse tho' hamely in attire	O
May touch the heart	F
	-
	-
O for a spunk o' Allan's glee	H
Or Fergusson's the bauld an' slee	H
Or bright Lapraik's my friend to be	H
If I can hit it	F
That would be lear eneugh for me	H
If I could get it	F
	-
	-
Now sir if ye hae friends enow	A
Tho' real friends I b'lieve are few	L
Yet if your catalogue be fu'	L
I'se no insist	F
But gif ye want ae friend that's true	L
I'm on your list	F
	-
	-
I winna blaw about mysel	H
As ill I like my fauts to tell	H
But friends an' folk that wish me well	H
They sometimes roose me	H
Tho' I maun own as mony still	H
As far abuse me	H
	-
	-
There's ae wee faut they whiles lay to me	H
I like the lasses Gude forgie me	H
For mony a plack they wheedle frae me	H
At dance or fair	Q
Maybe some ither thing they gie me	H
They weel can spare	Q
	-
	-
But Mauchline Race or Mauchline Fair	Q
I should be proud to meet you there	Q
We'se gie ae night's discharge to care	Q
If we forgather	Q
An' hae a swap o' rhymin ware	Q
Wi' ane anither	Q
	-
	-
The four gill chap we'se gar him clatter	Q
An' kirsen him wi' reekin water	Q
Syne we'll sit down an' tak our whitter	Q
To cheer our heart	F
An' faith we'se be acquainted better	Q
Before we part	F
	-
	-
Awa ye selfish war'ly race	N
Wha think that havins sense an' grace	N
Ev'n love an' friendship should give place	N
To catch the plack	I
I dinna like to see your face	N
Nor hear your crack	I
	-
	-
But ye whom social pleasure charms	N
Whose hearts the tide of kindness warms	N
Who hold your being on the terms	N
Each aid the others	N
Come to my bowl come to my arms	N
My friends my brothers	N
	-
	-
But to conclude my lang epistle	H
As my auld pen's worn to the gristle	H
Twa lines frae you wad gar me fissle	H
Who am most fervent	F
While I can either sing or whistle	H
Your friend and servant	F

Robert Burns

Epistle On J. Lapraik Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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