No More Learning

My excellent and
much-lamented friend, the late Basil, Lord Daer, happened to arrive at
Catrine the same day, and, by the kindness and frankness of his manners,
left an impression on the mind of the poet which was never effaced. The
verses which the poet wrote on the occasion are among the most imperfect
of his pieces, but a few stanzas may perhaps be a matter of curiosity,
both on account of the character to which they relate and the light
which they throw on the situation and the feelings of the writer before
his work was known to the public. " Basil, Lord Daer, the uncle of the
present Earl of Selkirk, was born in the year 1769, at the family seat
of St. Mary's Isle: he distinguished himself early at school, and at
college excelled in literature and science; he had a greater regard for
democracy than was then reckoned consistent with his birth and rank. He
was, when Burns met him, in his twenty-third year; was very tall,
something careless in his dress, and had the taste and talent common to
his distinguished family. He died in his thirty-third year. ]


This wot ye all whom it concerns,
I, Rhymer Robin, alias Burns,
October twenty-third,
A ne'er-to-be-forgotten day,
Sae far I sprachled up the brae,
I dinner'd wi' a Lord.

I've been at druken writers' feasts,
Nay, been bitch-fou' 'mang godly priests,
Wi' rev'rence be it spoken:
I've even join'd the honour'd jorum,
When mighty squireships of the quorum
Their hydra drouth did sloken.

But wi' a Lord--stand out, my shin!
A Lord--a Peer--an Earl's son! --
Up higher yet, my bonnet!
And sic a Lord! --lang Scotch ells twa,
Our Peerage he o'erlooks them a',
As I look o'er my sonnet.

But, oh! for Hogarth's magic pow'r!
To show Sir Bardie's willyart glow'r,
And how he star'd and stammer'd,
When goavan, as if led wi' branks,
An' stumpan on his ploughman shanks,
He in the parlour hammer'd.

I sidling shelter'd in a nook,
An' at his lordship steal't a look,
Like some portentous omen;
Except good sense and social glee,
An' (what surpris'd me) modesty,
I marked nought uncommon.

I watch'd the symptoms o' the great,
The gentle pride, the lordly state,
The arrogant assuming;
The fient a pride, nae pride had he,
Nor sauce, nor state, that I could see,
Mair than an honest ploughman.

Then from his lordship I shall learn,
Henceforth to meet with unconcern
One rank as weel's another;
Nae honest worthy man need care
To meet with noble youthful Daer,
For he but meets a brother.

* * * * *




LXIX.

ADDRESS TO EDINBURGH.

["I enclose you two poems," said Burns to his friend Chalmers, "which
I have carded and spun since I passed Glenbuck. One blank in the
Address to Edinburgh, 'Fair B----,' is the heavenly Miss Burnet,
daughter to Lord Monboddo, at whose house I have had the honour to be
more than once. There has not been anything nearly like her, in all
the combinations of beauty, grace, and goodness the great Creator has
formed, since Milton's Eve, on the first day of her existence. " Lord
Monboddo made himself ridiculous by his speculations on human nature,
and acceptable by his kindly manners and suppers in the manner of the
ancients, where his viands were spread under ambrosial lights, and his
Falernian was wreathed with flowers. At these suppers Burns sometimes
made his appearance. The "Address" was first printed in the Edinburgh
edition: the poet's hopes were then high, and his compliments, both to
town and people, were elegant and happy. ]


I.

Edina! Scotia's darling seat!
All hail thy palaces and tow'rs,
Where once beneath a monarch's feet
Sat Legislation's sov'reign pow'rs!