_
O stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay!
O stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay!
Robert Burns
In fact, I have been in a dilemma, either to
get drunk, to forget these miseries; or to hang myself, to get rid of
them: like a prudent man (a character congenial to my every thought,
word, and deed), I of two evils have chosen the least, and am very
drunk, at your service!
I wrote you yesterday from Dumfries. I had not time then to tell you
all I wanted to say; and, Heaven knows, at present have not capacity.
Do you know an air--I am sure you must know it--"We'll gang nae mair
to yon town? " I think, in slowish time, it would make an excellent
song. I am highly delighted with it; and if you should think it worthy
of your attention, I have a fair dame in my eye to whom I would
consecrate it.
As I am just going to bed, I wish you a good night.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCCXII.
TO MR. THOMSON.
[The song of Caledonia, in honour of Mrs. Burns, was accompanied by
two others in honour of the poet's mistress: the muse was high in
song, and used few words in the letter which enclosed them. ]
_May, 1795.
_
O stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay! [277]
Let me know, your very first leisure, how you like this song.
Long, long the night. [278]
How do you like the foregoing? The Irish air, "Humours of Glen," is a
great favourite of mine, and as, except the silly stuff in the "Poor
Soldier," there are not any decent verses for it, I have written for
it as follows:--
Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon. [279]
Let me hear from you.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 277: Song CCXLIX. ]
[Footnote 278: Song CCL. ]
[Footnote 279: Song CCLI. ]
* * * * *
CCCXIII.
TO MR. THOMSON.
[The poet calls for praise in this letter, a species of coin which is
always ready. ]
How cruel are the parents.
get drunk, to forget these miseries; or to hang myself, to get rid of
them: like a prudent man (a character congenial to my every thought,
word, and deed), I of two evils have chosen the least, and am very
drunk, at your service!
I wrote you yesterday from Dumfries. I had not time then to tell you
all I wanted to say; and, Heaven knows, at present have not capacity.
Do you know an air--I am sure you must know it--"We'll gang nae mair
to yon town? " I think, in slowish time, it would make an excellent
song. I am highly delighted with it; and if you should think it worthy
of your attention, I have a fair dame in my eye to whom I would
consecrate it.
As I am just going to bed, I wish you a good night.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCCXII.
TO MR. THOMSON.
[The song of Caledonia, in honour of Mrs. Burns, was accompanied by
two others in honour of the poet's mistress: the muse was high in
song, and used few words in the letter which enclosed them. ]
_May, 1795.
_
O stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay! [277]
Let me know, your very first leisure, how you like this song.
Long, long the night. [278]
How do you like the foregoing? The Irish air, "Humours of Glen," is a
great favourite of mine, and as, except the silly stuff in the "Poor
Soldier," there are not any decent verses for it, I have written for
it as follows:--
Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon. [279]
Let me hear from you.
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 277: Song CCXLIX. ]
[Footnote 278: Song CCL. ]
[Footnote 279: Song CCLI. ]
* * * * *
CCCXIII.
TO MR. THOMSON.
[The poet calls for praise in this letter, a species of coin which is
always ready. ]
How cruel are the parents.
