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THE POEMS OF BURNS.
TRAGIC FRAGMENT.
'All devil as I am, a damned wretch,
'A harden'd, stubborn, unrepenting villain,
'Still my heart melts at human wretchedness;
'And with sincere tho' unavailing sighs
'I view the helpless children of distress.
'With tears of indignation I behold th' oppressor
'Rejoicing in the honest man's destruction,
"Whose unsubmitting heart was all his crime.
"Even you, ye helpless crew, I pity you;
'Ye, whom the seeming good think sin to pity;
'Ye poor, despis'd, abandon'd vagabonds,
'Whom Vice, as usual, has turn'd o'er to Ruin.
"O but for kind, tho' ill-requited friends,
'I had been driven forth like you forlorn,
'The most detested, worthless wretch among you!
'O injur❜d God! thy goodness has endow'd me
'With talents passing most of my compeers,
'Which I in just proportion have abus'd,
'As far surpassing other common villains,
'As Thou in natural parts hadst given me more.'
'A harden'd, stubborn, unrepenting villain,
'Still my heart melts at human wretchedness;
'And with sincere tho' unavailing sighs
'I view the helpless children of distress.
'With tears of indignation I behold th' oppressor
'Rejoicing in the honest man's destruction,
"Whose unsubmitting heart was all his crime.
"Even you, ye helpless crew, I pity you;
'Ye, whom the seeming good think sin to pity;
'Ye poor, despis'd, abandon'd vagabonds,
'Whom Vice, as usual, has turn'd o'er to Ruin.
"O but for kind, tho' ill-requited friends,
'I had been driven forth like you forlorn,
'The most detested, worthless wretch among you!
'O injur❜d God! thy goodness has endow'd me
'With talents passing most of my compeers,
'Which I in just proportion have abus'd,
'As far surpassing other common villains,
'As Thou in natural parts hadst given me more.'
EXTEMPORE.
PINNED TO A LADY'S COACH.
If you rattle along like your mistress's tongue,
Your speed will out-rival the dart:
But, a fly for your load, you'll break down on the road,
If your stuff be as rotten's her heart.
Your speed will out-rival the dart:
But, a fly for your load, you'll break down on the road,
If your stuff be as rotten's her heart.
LINES
ON BEING ASKED WHY GOD HAD MADE MISS DAVIES SO LITTLE AND MRS. * * * SO LARGE.
Written on a Pane of Glass in the Inn at Moffat.
Ask why God made the gem so small,
An' why so huge the granite?
Because God meant mankind should set
The higher value on it.
An' why so huge the granite?
Because God meant mankind should set
The higher value on it.