Epistle To William Simson Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Robert Burns

Epistle To William Simson Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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I GAT your letter winsome Willie	A
Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie	A
Tho' I maun say't I wad be silly	A
And unco vain	B
Should I believe my coaxin billie	A
Your flatterin strain	B
	-
	-
But I'se believe ye kindly meant it	C
I sud be laith to think ye hinted	D
Ironic satire sidelins sklented	D
On my poor Musie	E
Tho' in sic phraisin terms ye've penn'd it	D
I scarce excuse ye	A
	-
	-
My senses wad be in a creel	A
Should I but dare a hope to speel	A
Wi' Allan or wi' Gilbertfield	D
The braes o' fame	F
Or Fergusson the writer chiel	A
A deathless name	F
	-
	-
O Fergusson thy glorious parts	E
Ill suited law's dry musty arts	E
My curse upon your whunstane hearts	E
Ye E'nbrugh gentry	A
The tithe o' what ye waste at cartes	E
Wad stow'd his pantry	A
	-
	-
Yet when a tale comes i' my head	D
Or lassies gie my heart a screed	D
As whiles they're like to be my dead	D
O sad disease	E
I kittle up my rustic reed	D
It gies me ease	E
	-
	-
Auld Coila now may fidge fu' fain	B
She's gotten poets o' her ain	B
Chiels wha their chanters winna hain	B
But tune their lays	E
Till echoes a' resound again	B
Her weel sung praise	E
	-
	-
Nae poet thought her worth his while	A
To set her name in measur'd style	A
She lay like some unkenn'd of isle	A
Beside New Holland	D
Or whare wild meeting oceans boil	A
Besouth Magellan	B
	-
	-
Ramsay an' famous Fergusson	B
Gied Forth an' Tay a lift aboon	B
Yarrow an' Tweed to monie a tune	B
Owre Scotland rings	E
While Irwin Lugar Ayr an' Doon	B
Naebody sings	E
	-
	-
Th' Illissus Tiber Thames an' Seine	B
Glide sweet in monie a tunefu' line	B
But Willie set your fit to mine	B
An' cock your crest	D
We'll gar our streams an' burnies shine	B
Up wi' the best	D
	-
	-
We'll sing auld Coila's plains an' fells	E
Her moors red brown wi' heather bells	E
Her banks an' braes her dens and dells	E
Whare glorious Wallace	E
Aft bure the gree as story tells	E
Frae Suthron billies	E
	-
	-
At Wallace' name what Scottish blood	D
But boils up in a spring tide flood	D
Oft have our fearless fathers strode	D
By Wallace' side	D
Still pressing onward red wat shod	D
Or glorious died	D
	-
	-
O sweet are Coila's haughs an' woods	E
When lintwhites chant amang the buds	E
And jinkin hares in amorous whids	E
Their loves enjoy	G
While thro' the braes the cushat croods	E
With wailfu' cry	H
	-
	-
Ev'n winter bleak has charms to me	B
When winds rave thro' the naked tree	B
Or frosts on hills of Ochiltree	B
Are hoary gray	B
Or blinding drifts wild furious flee	B
Dark'ning the day	B
	-
	-
O Nature a' thy shews an' forms	E
To feeling pensive hearts hae charms	E
Whether the summer kindly warms	E
Wi' life an light	D
Or winter howls in gusty storms	E
The lang dark night	D
	-
	-
The muse nae poet ever fand her	B
Till by himsel he learn'd to wander	B
Adown some trottin burn's meander	B
An' no think lang	I
O sweet to stray an' pensive ponder	B
A heart felt sang	I
	-
	-
The war'ly race may drudge an' drive	J
Hog shouther jundie stretch an' strive	J
Let me fair Nature's face descrive	J
And I wi' pleasure	B
Shall let the busy grumbling hive	J
Bum owre their treasure	B
	-
	-
Fareweel my rhyme composing brither	B
We've been owre lang unkenn'd to ither	B
Now let us lay our heads thegither	B
In love fraternal	A
May envy wallop in a tether	B
Black fiend infernal	A
	-
	-
While Highlandmen hate tools an' taxes	E
While moorlan's herds like guid fat braxies	E
While terra firma on her axis	E
Diurnal turns	E
Count on a friend in faith an' practice	E
In Robert Burns	E
	-
	-
POSTCRIPTMY memory's no worth a preen	B
I had amaist forgotten clean	B
Ye bade me write you what they mean	B
By this new light	D
'Bout which our herds sae aft hae been	B
Maist like to fight	D
	-
	-
In days when mankind were but callans	E
At grammar logic an' sic talents	E
They took nae pains their speech to balance	E
Or rules to gie	G
But spak their thoughts in plain braid lallans	E
Like you or me	B
	-
	-
In thae auld times they thought the moon	B
Just like a sark or pair o' shoon	B
Wore by degrees till her last roon	B
Gaed past their viewin	B
An' shortly after she was done	B
They gat a new ane	B
	-
	-
This passed for certain undisputed	D
It ne'er cam i' their heads to doubt it	D
Till chiels gat up an' wad confute it	D
An' ca'd it wrang	I
An' muckle din there was about it	D
Baith loud an' lang	I
	-
	-
Some herds weel learn'd upo' the beuk	I
Wad threap auld folk the thing misteuk	I
For 'twas the auld moon turn'd a neuk	I
An' out of' sight	D
An' backlins comin to the leuk	I
She grew mair bright	D
	-
	-
This was deny'd it was affirm'd	D
The herds and hissels were alarm'd	D
The rev'rend gray beards rav'd an' storm'd	D
That beardless laddies	E
Should think they better wer inform'd	D
Than their auld daddies	E
	-
	-
Frae less to mair it gaed to sticks	E
Frae words an' aiths to clours an' nicks	E
An monie a fallow gat his licks	E
Wi' hearty crunt	D
An' some to learn them for their tricks	E
Were hang'd an' brunt	D
	-
	-
This game was play'd in mony lands	E
An' auld light caddies bure sic hands	E
That faith the youngsters took the sands	E
Wi' nimble shanks	E
Till lairds forbad by strict commands	E
Sic bluidy pranks	E
	-
	-
But new light herds gat sic a cowe	K
Folk thought them ruin'd stick an stowe	K
Till now amaist on ev'ry knowe	K
Ye'll find ane plac'd	D
An' some their new light fair avow	J
Just quite barefac'd	D
	-
	-
Nae doubt the auld light flocks are bleatin	B
Their zealous herds are vex'd an' sweatin	B
Mysel' I've even seen them greetin	B
Wi' girnin spite	D
To hear the moon sae sadly lied on	B
By word an' write	D
	-
	-
But shortly they will cowe the louns	E
Some auld light herds in neebor touns	E
Are mind't in things they ca' balloons	E
To tak a flight	D
An' stay ae month amang the moons	E
An' see them right	D
	-
	-
Guid observation they will gie them	L
An' when the auld moon's gaun to lea'e them	L
The hindmaist shaird they'll fetch it wi' them	L
Just i' their pouch	M
An' when the new light billies see them	L
I think they'll crouch	M
	-
	-
Sae ye observe that a' this clatter	B
Is naething but a moonshine matter	B
But tho' dull prose folk Latin splatter	B
In logic tulyie	A
I hope we bardies ken some better	B
Than mind sic brulyie	A