[Burns in these careless words makes us
acquainted
with one of his
sweetest songs.
sweetest songs.
Robert Burns
He must be a
man of very great genius--Why is he not more known? --Has he no
patrons? or do "Poverty's cold wind and crushing rain beat keen and
heavy" on him! I once, and but once, got a glance of that noble
edition of the noblest pastoral in the world; and dear as it was, I
mean dear as to my pocket, I would have bought it; but I was told
that it was printed and engraved for subscribers only. He is the
_only_ artist who has hit _genuine_ pastoral _costume. _ What, my dear
Cunningham, is there in riches, that they narrow and harden the heart
so? I think, that were I as rich as the sun, I should be as generous
as the day; but as I have no reason to imagine my soul a nobler one
than any other man's, I must conclude that wealth imparts a bird-lime
quality to the possessor, at which the man, in his native poverty,
would have revolted. What has led me to this, is the idea, of such
merit as Mr. Allan possesses, and such riches us a nabob or government
contractor possesses, and why they do not form a mutual league. Let
wealth shelter and cherish unprotected merit, and the gratitude and
celebrity of that merit will richly repay it.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXLVIII.
TO MR. THOMSON.
[Burns in these careless words makes us acquainted with one of his
sweetest songs. ]
_20th March, 1793. _
MY DEAR SIR,
The song prefixed ["Mary Morison"[207]] is one of my juvenile works. I
leave it in your hands. I do not think it very remarkable, either for
its merits or demerits. It is impossible (at least I feel it so in my
stinted powers) to be always original, entertaining, and witty.
What is become of the list, &c. , of your songs? I shall be out of all
temper with you, by and bye. I have always looked on myself as the
prince of indolent correspondence, and valued myself accordingly; and
I will not, cannot, bear rivalship from you, nor anybody else.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 207: Song CLXXXVIII. ]
* * * * *
CCXLIX.
TO MR. THOMSON.
man of very great genius--Why is he not more known? --Has he no
patrons? or do "Poverty's cold wind and crushing rain beat keen and
heavy" on him! I once, and but once, got a glance of that noble
edition of the noblest pastoral in the world; and dear as it was, I
mean dear as to my pocket, I would have bought it; but I was told
that it was printed and engraved for subscribers only. He is the
_only_ artist who has hit _genuine_ pastoral _costume. _ What, my dear
Cunningham, is there in riches, that they narrow and harden the heart
so? I think, that were I as rich as the sun, I should be as generous
as the day; but as I have no reason to imagine my soul a nobler one
than any other man's, I must conclude that wealth imparts a bird-lime
quality to the possessor, at which the man, in his native poverty,
would have revolted. What has led me to this, is the idea, of such
merit as Mr. Allan possesses, and such riches us a nabob or government
contractor possesses, and why they do not form a mutual league. Let
wealth shelter and cherish unprotected merit, and the gratitude and
celebrity of that merit will richly repay it.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXLVIII.
TO MR. THOMSON.
[Burns in these careless words makes us acquainted with one of his
sweetest songs. ]
_20th March, 1793. _
MY DEAR SIR,
The song prefixed ["Mary Morison"[207]] is one of my juvenile works. I
leave it in your hands. I do not think it very remarkable, either for
its merits or demerits. It is impossible (at least I feel it so in my
stinted powers) to be always original, entertaining, and witty.
What is become of the list, &c. , of your songs? I shall be out of all
temper with you, by and bye. I have always looked on myself as the
prince of indolent correspondence, and valued myself accordingly; and
I will not, cannot, bear rivalship from you, nor anybody else.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 207: Song CLXXXVIII. ]
* * * * *
CCXLIX.
TO MR. THOMSON.
