Robert Burns

Hugh Campbell, "Coila's Bard" Campbell, The Wanderer in Ayrshire (1817) 111-12.

Hail, BURNS! whose Iris' pen could paint,
The lover, hypocrite, or saint,
And show the loves of country maids,
And joys portray of rural shades;
And bring the cotter's wifie's smile,
That robb'd her mate of care and toil,
Before our eyes, in colours true,
While she sat making auld claes new:
Or make our breasts with wishes throe:
To feel thy patriotic glow—
The rapt enthusiast wish to feel,
Of thine, for Scotia's lasting weal—
And England's too! for thou wast loyal,—
('Twas prov'd on thy official trial!)
Thy animating songs inspire,
The mind with more than mortal ire,
Against thy country's foes, or love, or truth.
Oh, hapless slave of care! — half joyless from thy youth!
But what reward hadst thou for all thy worth,
Poor self-thought outcast from the ungrateful earth?
In life to pine, in death to force a name,—
That will defy old Time, — from vicious babbling fame!