While here I sit, sad and
solitary
by the side of a fire in a little
country inn, and drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor fellow of
sodger, and tells me he is going to Ayr.
country inn, and drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor fellow of
sodger, and tells me he is going to Ayr.
Robert Forst
The Grand Master, who presided with
great solemnity and honour to himself as a gentleman and mason, among
other general toasts, gave "Caledonia, and Caledonia's Bard, Brother
Burns," which rung through the whole assembly with multiplied honours
and repeated acclamations. As I had no idea such a thing would happen,
I was downright thunderstruck, and, trembling in every nerve, made the
best return in my power. Just as I had finished, some of the grand
officers said, so loud that I could hear, with a most comforting
accent, "Very well indeed! " which set me something to rights again.
I have to-day corrected my 152d page. My best good wishes to Mr.
Aiken.
I am ever,
Dear Sir,
Your much indebted humble servant,
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 165: See Blair's Grave. This was a favourite quotation with
Burns. ]
* * * * *
XLII.
TO JOHN BALLANTYNE.
[I have not hesitated to insert all letters which show what Burns was
musing on as a poet, or planning as a man. ]
_January_ ----, 1787.
While here I sit, sad and solitary by the side of a fire in a little
country inn, and drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor fellow of
sodger, and tells me he is going to Ayr. By heavens! say I to myself,
with a tide of good spirits which the magic of that sound, Auld Toon
o' Ayr, conjured up, I will sent my last song to Mr. Ballantyne. Here
it is--
Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care! [166]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 166: Song CXXXI. ]
* * * * *
XLIII.
TO MRS. DUNLOP.
[The friendship of Mrs. Dunlop purified, while it strengthened the
national prejudices of Burns. ]
_Edinburgh, 15th January_, 1787.
MADAM,
Yours of the 9th current, which I am this moment honoured with, is a
deep reproach to me for ungrateful neglect. I will tell you the real
truth, for I am miserably awkward at a fib--I wished to have written
to Dr. Moore before I wrote to you; but though every day since I
received yours of December 30th, the idea, the wish to write to him
has constantly pressed on my thoughts, yet I could not for my soul set
about it. I know his fame and character, and I am one of "the sons of
little men.
great solemnity and honour to himself as a gentleman and mason, among
other general toasts, gave "Caledonia, and Caledonia's Bard, Brother
Burns," which rung through the whole assembly with multiplied honours
and repeated acclamations. As I had no idea such a thing would happen,
I was downright thunderstruck, and, trembling in every nerve, made the
best return in my power. Just as I had finished, some of the grand
officers said, so loud that I could hear, with a most comforting
accent, "Very well indeed! " which set me something to rights again.
I have to-day corrected my 152d page. My best good wishes to Mr.
Aiken.
I am ever,
Dear Sir,
Your much indebted humble servant,
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 165: See Blair's Grave. This was a favourite quotation with
Burns. ]
* * * * *
XLII.
TO JOHN BALLANTYNE.
[I have not hesitated to insert all letters which show what Burns was
musing on as a poet, or planning as a man. ]
_January_ ----, 1787.
While here I sit, sad and solitary by the side of a fire in a little
country inn, and drying my wet clothes, in pops a poor fellow of
sodger, and tells me he is going to Ayr. By heavens! say I to myself,
with a tide of good spirits which the magic of that sound, Auld Toon
o' Ayr, conjured up, I will sent my last song to Mr. Ballantyne. Here
it is--
Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care! [166]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 166: Song CXXXI. ]
* * * * *
XLIII.
TO MRS. DUNLOP.
[The friendship of Mrs. Dunlop purified, while it strengthened the
national prejudices of Burns. ]
_Edinburgh, 15th January_, 1787.
MADAM,
Yours of the 9th current, which I am this moment honoured with, is a
deep reproach to me for ungrateful neglect. I will tell you the real
truth, for I am miserably awkward at a fib--I wished to have written
to Dr. Moore before I wrote to you; but though every day since I
received yours of December 30th, the idea, the wish to write to him
has constantly pressed on my thoughts, yet I could not for my soul set
about it. I know his fame and character, and I am one of "the sons of
little men.
