Except my ardent and just esteem for
your sense, taste, and worth, every sentiment arising in my breast, as
I put pen to paper to you, is painful.
your sense, taste, and worth, every sentiment arising in my breast, as
I put pen to paper to you, is painful.
Robert Burns
Oswald's unconcealable attachment to that
incomparable woman. Did you ever, my dear Syme, meet with a man who
owed more to the Divine Giver of all good things than Mr. O. ? A fine
fortune; a pleasing exterior; self-evident amiable dispositions, and
an ingenuous upright mind, and that informed, too, much beyond the
usual run of young fellows of his rank and fortune: and to all this,
such a woman! --but of her I shall say nothing at all, in despair of
saying anything adequate: in my song I have endeavoured to do justice
to what would be his feelings, on seeing, in the scene I have drawn,
the habitation of his Lucy. As I am a good deal pleased with my
performance, I, in my first fervour, thought of sending it to Mrs.
Oswald, but on second thoughts, perhaps what I offer as the honest
incense of genuine respect, might, from the well-known character of
poverty and poetry, be construed into some modification or other of
that servility which my soul abhors.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXCI.
TO MISS ----.
[Burns, on other occasions than this, recalled both his letters and
verses: it is to be regretted that he did not recall more of both. ]
_Dumfries, 1794. _
MADAM,
Nothing short of a kind of absolute necessity could have made me
trouble you with this letter.
Except my ardent and just esteem for
your sense, taste, and worth, every sentiment arising in my breast, as
I put pen to paper to you, is painful. The scenes I have passed with
the friend of my soul and his amiable connexions! the wrench at my
heart to think that he is gone, for ever gone from me, never more to
meet in the wanderings of a weary world! and the cutting reflection of
all, that I had most unfortunately, though most undeservedly, lost the
confidence of that soul of worth, ere it took its flight!
These, Madam, are sensations of no ordinary anguish. --However, you
also may be offended with some _imputed_ improprieties of mine;
sensibility you know I possess, and sincerity none will deny me.
To oppose those prejudices which have been raised against me, is not
the business of this letter. Indeed it is a warfare I know not how to
wage. The powers of positive vice I can in some degree calculate, and
against direct malevolence I can be on my guard; but who can estimate
the fatuity of giddy caprice, or ward off the unthinking mischief of
precipitate folly?
I have a favour to request of you, Madam, and of your sister Mrs. ----,
through your means. You know that, at the wish of my late friend, I
made a collection of all my trifles in verse which I had ever written.
They are many of them local, some of them puerile and silly, and all
of them unfit for the public eye. As I have some little fame at stake,
a fame that I trust may live when the hate of those who "watch for my
halting," and the contumelious sneer of those whom accident has made
my superiors, will, with themselves, be gone to the regions of
oblivion; I am uneasy now for the fate of those manuscripts--Will
Mrs. ---- have the goodness to destroy them, or return them to me? As a
pledge of friendship they were bestowed; and that circumstance indeed
was all their merit.
incomparable woman. Did you ever, my dear Syme, meet with a man who
owed more to the Divine Giver of all good things than Mr. O. ? A fine
fortune; a pleasing exterior; self-evident amiable dispositions, and
an ingenuous upright mind, and that informed, too, much beyond the
usual run of young fellows of his rank and fortune: and to all this,
such a woman! --but of her I shall say nothing at all, in despair of
saying anything adequate: in my song I have endeavoured to do justice
to what would be his feelings, on seeing, in the scene I have drawn,
the habitation of his Lucy. As I am a good deal pleased with my
performance, I, in my first fervour, thought of sending it to Mrs.
Oswald, but on second thoughts, perhaps what I offer as the honest
incense of genuine respect, might, from the well-known character of
poverty and poetry, be construed into some modification or other of
that servility which my soul abhors.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXCI.
TO MISS ----.
[Burns, on other occasions than this, recalled both his letters and
verses: it is to be regretted that he did not recall more of both. ]
_Dumfries, 1794. _
MADAM,
Nothing short of a kind of absolute necessity could have made me
trouble you with this letter.
Except my ardent and just esteem for
your sense, taste, and worth, every sentiment arising in my breast, as
I put pen to paper to you, is painful. The scenes I have passed with
the friend of my soul and his amiable connexions! the wrench at my
heart to think that he is gone, for ever gone from me, never more to
meet in the wanderings of a weary world! and the cutting reflection of
all, that I had most unfortunately, though most undeservedly, lost the
confidence of that soul of worth, ere it took its flight!
These, Madam, are sensations of no ordinary anguish. --However, you
also may be offended with some _imputed_ improprieties of mine;
sensibility you know I possess, and sincerity none will deny me.
To oppose those prejudices which have been raised against me, is not
the business of this letter. Indeed it is a warfare I know not how to
wage. The powers of positive vice I can in some degree calculate, and
against direct malevolence I can be on my guard; but who can estimate
the fatuity of giddy caprice, or ward off the unthinking mischief of
precipitate folly?
I have a favour to request of you, Madam, and of your sister Mrs. ----,
through your means. You know that, at the wish of my late friend, I
made a collection of all my trifles in verse which I had ever written.
They are many of them local, some of them puerile and silly, and all
of them unfit for the public eye. As I have some little fame at stake,
a fame that I trust may live when the hate of those who "watch for my
halting," and the contumelious sneer of those whom accident has made
my superiors, will, with themselves, be gone to the regions of
oblivion; I am uneasy now for the fate of those manuscripts--Will
Mrs. ---- have the goodness to destroy them, or return them to me? As a
pledge of friendship they were bestowed; and that circumstance indeed
was all their merit.
