Wallace forty-one songs for your fifth
volume; if we cannot finish it in any other way, what would you think
of Scots words to some beautiful Irish airs?
volume; if we cannot finish it in any other way, what would you think
of Scots words to some beautiful Irish airs?
Robert Burns
Hear it not, Wallace, in thy bed of death!
Ye babbling winds in silence sweep,
Disturb not ye the hero's sleep.
with additions of
That arm which nerved with thundering fate,
Braved usurpation's boldest daring!
One quenched in darkness like the sinking star,
And one the palsied arm of tottering, powerless age.
You will probably have another scrawl from me in a stage or two.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXCVII.
TO MR. JAMES JOHNSON.
[The anxiety of Burns about the accuracy of his poetry, while in the
press, was great: he found full employment for months in correcting a
new edition of his poems. ]
_Dumfries, 1794. _
MY DEAR FRIEND,
You should have heard from me long ago; but over and above some
vexatious share in the pecuniary losses of these accursed times, I
have all this winter been plagued with low spirits and blue devils, so
that _I have almost hung my harp on the willow-trees. _
I am just now busy correcting a new edition of my poems, and this,
with my ordinary business, finds me in full employment.
I send you by my friend Mr.
Wallace forty-one songs for your fifth
volume; if we cannot finish it in any other way, what would you think
of Scots words to some beautiful Irish airs? In the mean time, at your
leisure, give a copy of the Museum to my worthy friend, Sir. Peter
Hill, bookseller, to bind for me, interleaved with blank leaves,
exactly as he did the Laird of Glenriddel's, that I may insert every
anecdote I can learn, together with my own criticisms and remarks on
the songs. A copy of this kind I shall leave with you, the editor, to
publish at some after period, by way of making the Museum a book
famous to the end of time, and you renowned for ever.
I have got an Highland dirk, for which I have great veneration; as it
once was the dirk of _Lord Balmerino. _ It fell into bad hands, who
stripped it of the silver mounting, as well as the knife and fork. I
have some thoughts of sending it to your care, to get it mounted anew.
Thank you for the copies of my Volunteer Ballad. --Our friend Clarke
has done _indeed_ well! 'tis chaste and beautiful. I have not met with
anything that has pleased me so much. You know I am no connoisseur:
but that I am an amateur--will be allowed me.
R. B.
* * * * *
CCXCVIII.
TO MR.
