To J. Lapraik. - An Old Scottish Bard. (first Epistle.) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCBDBE BBBFBF GGGHGH IIIJIJ GGGBGB IIIKIK LLLJLJ IIIMIM NOOPOP OOOJOJ OOOOOO OOOJOJ PPQGPG IIIGIG BMMGMG IIIIII IIIRIR RRRRRR RRRGRG OOOJOJ OOOOOO IIIGIG| April st | A |
| - | |
| While briers an' woodbines budding green | B |
| An' paitricks scraichin' loud at e'en | C |
| An' morning poussie whidden seen | B |
| Inspire my muse | D |
| This freedom in an unknown frien' | B |
| I pray excuse | E |
| - | |
| On Fasten een we had a rockin' | B |
| To ca' the crack and weave our stockin' | B |
| And there was muckle fun an' jokin' | B |
| Ye need na doubt | F |
| At length we had a hearty yokin' | B |
| At sang about | F |
| - | |
| There was ae sang amang the rest | G |
| Aboon them a' it pleas'd me best | G |
| That some kind husband had addrest | G |
| To some sweet wife | H |
| It thirl'd the heart strings thro' the breast | G |
| A' to the life | H |
| - | |
| I've scarce heard aught describ'd sae weel | I |
| What gen'rous manly bosoms feel | I |
| Thought I Can this be Pope or Steele | I |
| Or Beattie's wark | J |
| They told me 'twas an odd kind chiel | I |
| About Muirkirk | J |
| - | |
| It pat me fidgin fain to hear't | G |
| And sae about him there I spier't | G |
| Then a' that ken't him round declar'd | G |
| He had injine | B |
| That nane excell'd it few cam near't | G |
| It was sae fine | B |
| - | |
| That set him to a pint of ale | I |
| An' either douce or merry tale | I |
| Or rhymes an' sangs he'd made himsel' | I |
| Or witty catches | K |
| 'Tween Inverness and Tiviotdale | I |
| He had few matches | K |
| - | |
| Then up I gat an' swoor an aith | L |
| Tho' I should pawn my pleugh and graith | L |
| Or die a cadger pownie's death | L |
| At some dyke back | J |
| A pint an' gill I'd gie them baith | L |
| To hear your crack | J |
| - | |
| But first an' foremost I should tell | I |
| Amaist as soon as I could spell | I |
| I to the crambo jingle fell | I |
| Tho' rude an' rough | M |
| Yet crooning to a body's sel' | I |
| Does weel eneugh | M |
| - | |
| I am nae poet in a sense | N |
| But just a rhymer like by chance | O |
| An' hae to learning nae pretence | O |
| Yet what the matter | P |
| Whene'er my Muse does on me glance | O |
| I jingle at her | P |
| - | |
| Your critic folk may cock their nose | O |
| And say How can you e'er propose | O |
| You wha ken hardly verse frae prose | O |
| To mak a sang | J |
| But by your leaves my learned foes | O |
| Ye're may be wrang | J |
| - | |
| What's a' your jargon o' your schools | O |
| Your Latin names for horns an' stools | O |
| If honest nature made you fools | O |
| What sairs your grammars | O |
| Ye'd better taen up spades and shools | O |
| Or knappin hammers | O |
| - | |
| A set o' dull conceited hashes | O |
| Confuse their brains in college classes | O |
| They gang in stirks and come out asses | O |
| Plain truth to speak | J |
| An' syne they think to climb Parnassus | O |
| By dint o' Greek | J |
| - | |
| Gie me ae spark o' Nature's fire | P |
| That's a' the learning I desire | P |
| Then though I drudge thro' dub an' mire | Q |
| At pleugh or cart | G |
| My muse though hamely in attire | P |
| May touch the heart | G |
| - | |
| O for a spunk o' Allan's glee | I |
| Or Fergusson's the bauld and slee | I |
| Or bright Lapraik's my friend to be | I |
| If I can hit it | G |
| That would be lear eneugh for me | I |
| If I could get it | G |
| - | |
| Now sir if ye hae friends enow | B |
| Tho' real friends I b'lieve are few | M |
| Yet if your catalogue be fou | M |
| I'se no insist | G |
| But gif ye want ae friend that's true | M |
| I'm on your list | G |
| - | |
| I winna blaw about mysel | I |
| As ill I like my fauts to tell | I |
| But friends an' folk that wish me well | I |
| They sometimes roose me | I |
| Tho' I maun own as monie still | I |
| As far abuse me | I |
| - | |
| There's ae wee faut they whiles lay to me | I |
| I like the lasses Gude forgie me | I |
| For monie a plack they wheedle frae me | I |
| At dance or fair | R |
| May be some ither thing they gie me | I |
| They weel can spare | R |
| - | |
| But Mauchline race or Mauchline fair | R |
| I should be proud to meet you there | R |
| We'se gie ae night's discharge to care | R |
| If we forgather | R |
| An' hae a swap o' rhymin' ware | R |
| Wi' ane anither | R |
| - | |
| The four gill chap we'se gar him clatter | R |
| An' kirsen him wi' reekin' water | R |
| Syne we'll sit down an' tak our whitter | R |
| To cheer our heart | G |
| An' faith we'se be acquainted better | R |
| Before we part | G |
| - | |
| Awa ye selfish warly race | O |
| Wha think that havins sense an' grace | O |
| Ev'n love an' friendship should give place | O |
| To catch the plack | J |
| I dinna like to see your face | O |
| Nor hear your crack | J |
| - | |
| But ye whom social pleasure charms | O |
| Whose hearts the tide of kindness warms | O |
| Who hold your being on the terms | O |
| Each aid the others | O |
| Come to my bowl come to my arms | O |
| My friends my brothers | O |
| - | |
| But to conclude my lang epistle | I |
| As my auld pen's worn to the grissle | I |
| Twa lines frae you wad gar me fissle | I |
| Who am most fervent | G |
| While I can either sing or whissle | I |
| Your friend and servant | G |
Robert Burns
(1)
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About To J. Lapraik. - An Old Scottish Bard. (first Epistle.)
To J. Lapraik. - An Old Scottish Bard. (first Epistle.) is a poem by Robert Burns. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
