From thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native shore;
The cruel Fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar:
But boundless oceans roaring wide
Between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee!
And from my native shore;
The cruel Fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar:
But boundless oceans roaring wide
Between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee!
Robert Forst
she did die;
For sweet consolation to church I did fly;
I found that old Solomon proved it fair,
That a big-bellied bottle's a cure for all care.
V.
I once was persuaded a venture to make;
A letter inform'd me that all was to wreck;--
But the pursy old landlord just waddled up stairs,
With a glorious bottle that ended my cares.
VI.
"Life's cares they are comforts,"[136]--a maxim laid down
By the bard, what d'ye call him, that wore the black gown;
And faith I agree with th' old prig to a hair;
For a big-bellied bottle's a heav'n of care.
VII.
ADDED IN A MASON LODGE.
Then fill up a bumper and make it o'erflow.
The honours masonic prepare for to throw;
May every true brother of the compass and square
Have a big-bellied bottle when harass'd with care!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 136: Young's Night Thoughts. ]
* * * * *
XXIV.
ELIZA.
Tune--"_Gilderoy. _"
[My late excellent friend, John Galt, informed me that the Eliza of
this song was his relative, and that her name was Elizabeth Barbour. ]
I.
From thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native shore;
The cruel Fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar:
But boundless oceans roaring wide
Between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee!
II.
Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore!
A boding voice is in mine ear,
We part to meet no more!
The latest throb that leaves my heart,
While death stands victor by,
That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
And thine that latest sigh!
* * * * *
XXV.
THE SONS OF OLD KILLIE.
Tune--"_Shawnboy. "_
["This song, wrote by Mr. Burns, was sung by him in the
Kilmarnock-Kilwinning Lodge, in 1786, and given by him to Mr. Parker,
who was Master of the Lodge. " These interesting words are on the
original, in the poet's handwriting, in the possession of Mr. Gabriel
Neil, of Glasgow. ]
I.
Ye sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie,
To follow the noble vocation;
Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honoured station.
I've little to say, but only to pray,
As praying's the ton of your fashion;
A prayer from the muse you well may excuse,
'Tis seldom her favourite passion.
For sweet consolation to church I did fly;
I found that old Solomon proved it fair,
That a big-bellied bottle's a cure for all care.
V.
I once was persuaded a venture to make;
A letter inform'd me that all was to wreck;--
But the pursy old landlord just waddled up stairs,
With a glorious bottle that ended my cares.
VI.
"Life's cares they are comforts,"[136]--a maxim laid down
By the bard, what d'ye call him, that wore the black gown;
And faith I agree with th' old prig to a hair;
For a big-bellied bottle's a heav'n of care.
VII.
ADDED IN A MASON LODGE.
Then fill up a bumper and make it o'erflow.
The honours masonic prepare for to throw;
May every true brother of the compass and square
Have a big-bellied bottle when harass'd with care!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 136: Young's Night Thoughts. ]
* * * * *
XXIV.
ELIZA.
Tune--"_Gilderoy. _"
[My late excellent friend, John Galt, informed me that the Eliza of
this song was his relative, and that her name was Elizabeth Barbour. ]
I.
From thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native shore;
The cruel Fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar:
But boundless oceans roaring wide
Between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee!
II.
Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore!
A boding voice is in mine ear,
We part to meet no more!
The latest throb that leaves my heart,
While death stands victor by,
That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
And thine that latest sigh!
* * * * *
XXV.
THE SONS OF OLD KILLIE.
Tune--"_Shawnboy. "_
["This song, wrote by Mr. Burns, was sung by him in the
Kilmarnock-Kilwinning Lodge, in 1786, and given by him to Mr. Parker,
who was Master of the Lodge. " These interesting words are on the
original, in the poet's handwriting, in the possession of Mr. Gabriel
Neil, of Glasgow. ]
I.
Ye sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie,
To follow the noble vocation;
Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honoured station.
I've little to say, but only to pray,
As praying's the ton of your fashion;
A prayer from the muse you well may excuse,
'Tis seldom her favourite passion.
