No More Learning

As bonnie lasses I hae seen,
And mony full as braw;
But for a modest gracefu' mien
The like I never saw.

III.

A bonnie lass, I will confess,
Is pleasant to the e'e,
But without some better qualities
She's no a lass for me.

IV.

But Nelly's looks are blithe and sweet,
And what is best of a',
Her reputation is complete,
And fair without a flaw.

V.

She dresses ay sae clean and neat,
Both decent and genteel:
And then there's something in her gait
Gars ony dress look weel.

VI.

A gaudy dress and gentle air
May slightly touch the heart;
But it's innocence and modesty
That polishes the dart.

VII.

'Tis this in Nelly pleases me,
'Tis this enchants my soul;
For absolutely in my breast
She reigns without control

* * * * *




II.

LUCKLESS FORTUNE.

[Those lines, as Burns informs us, were written to a tune of his own
composing, consisting of three parts, and the words were the echo of
the air. ]


O raging fortune's withering blast
Has laid my leaf full low, O!
O raging fortune's withering blast
Has laid my leaf full low, O!
My stem was fair, my bud was green,
My blossom sweet did blow, O;
The dew fell fresh, the sun rose mild,
And made my branches grow, O.
But luckless fortune's northern storms
Laid a' my blossoms low, O;
But luckless fortune's northern storms
Laid a' my blossoms low, O.

* * * * *




III.

I DREAM'D I LAY.

[These melancholy verses were written when the poet was some seventeen
years old: his early days were typical of his latter. ]


I.

I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Trees with aged arms were warring.
O'er the swelling drumlie wave.

II.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasure I enjoy'd:
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming,
A' my flowery bliss destroy'd.
Tho' fickle fortune has deceiv'd me,
She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill;
Of mony a joy and hope bereav'd me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.

* * * * *




IV.

TIBBIE, I HAE SEEN THE DAY.

Tune--"_Invercald's Reel. _"

[The Tibbie who "spak na, but gaed by like stoure," was, it is said,
the daughter of a man who was laird of three acres of peatmoss, and
thought it became her to put on airs in consequence. ]


CHORUS.