Because his verse beats with the
passions of his fiery and sympathetic nature, the world loves him as it
loves few other poets. Among the best known of his productions are
_The Cotter's Saturday Night_, _Tam o' Shanter_, _Address to the Unco
Guid_, _To a Mouse_, and _To a Mountain Daisy_. In speaking of his
songs, one might mention first, _Scots Wha Hae_,--composed in the midst
of tempests, while the poet was riding over a wild Galloway moor,--and
next, _Highland Mary_ and _A Man's a Man for a' That_; but there is no
need of enumerating the songs of Burns. As Emerson has said, "The wind
whispers them, the birds whistle them, the corn, barley, and bulrushes
hoarsely rustle them. . . . They are the property and the solace of
mankind."
THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT[*]
My loved, my honored, much respected friend![1]
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise:
To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, 5
The lowly train in life's sequestered scene;
The native feelings strong, the guileless ways;
What Aikin in a cottage would have been;
Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween![2]
November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;[3] 10
The short'ning winter-day is near a close;
The miry beasts retreating frae[4] the pleugh;[5]
The black'ning trains o' craws[6] to their repose:
The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes,
This night his weekly moil[7] is at an end, 15
Collects his spades, his mattocks,[8] and his hoes,
Hoping the morn[9] in ease and rest to spend,
And weary, o'er the moor, his course does homeward[10] bend.
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