enchanting
stage, profusely blest.
Robert Burns
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 181: Miss Sophia Brodie, of L----, and Miss Rose of Kilravock. ]
* * * * *
CIII.
TO RICHARD BROWN.
[While Burns was confined to his lodgings by his maimed limb, he
beguiled the time and eased the pain by composing the Clarinda
epistles, writing songs for Johnson, and letters to his companions. ]
_Mossgiel, 24th February, 1788. _
MY DEAR SIR,
I cannot get the proper direction for my friend in Jamaica, but the
following will do:--To Mr. Jo. Hutchinson, at Jo. Brownrigg's, Esq. ,
care of Mr. Benjamin Henriquez, merchant, Orange-street, Kingston. I
arrived here, at my brother's, only yesterday, after fighting my way
through Paisley and Kilmarnock, against those old powerful foes of
mine, the devil, the world, and the flesh--so terrible in the fields
of dissipation. I have met with few incidents in my life which gave me
so much pleasure as meeting you in Glasgow. There is a time of life
beyond which we cannot form a tie worth the name of friendship. "O
youth!
enchanting stage, profusely blest. " Life is a fairy scene:
almost all that deserves the name of enjoyment or pleasure is only a
charming delusion; and in comes repining age in all the gravity of
hoary wisdom, and wretchedly chases away the bewitching phantom. When
I think of life, I resolve to keep a strict look-out in the course of
economy, for the sake of worldly convenience and independence of mind;
to cultivate intimacy with a few of the companions of youth, that they
may be the friends of age; never to refuse my liquorish humour a
handful of the sweetmeats of life, when they come not too dear; and,
for futurity,--
"The present moment is our ain,
The neist we never saw! "[182]
How like you my philosophy? Give my best compliments to Mrs. B. , and
believe me to be,
My dear Sir,
Yours most truly,
R. B.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 182: Mickle. ]
* * * * *
CIV.
TO MR. WILLIAM CRUIKSHANK.
[The excise and farming alternately occupied the poet's thoughts in
Edinburgh: he studied books of husbandry and took lessons in gauging,
and in the latter he became expert. ]
_Mauchline, March 3d, 1788. _
MY DEAR SIR,
Apologies for not writing are frequently like apologies for not
singing--the apology better than the song. I have fought my way
severely through the savage hospitality of this country, to send every
guest drunk to bed if they can.
