1806 ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION

Robert Burns

Anonymous, "Monody on the Death of Robert Burns" Evening Fire-Side [Philadelphia] 2 (13 September 1806) 290.



What! is there ill news, you'r so sad, Robbin Gray!
That your blue bonnet hangs o'er your Brow!
Sad, O sad news I've read, Robbin Burns, man, is dead,
And the ploughman weeps o'er his plough—
Wel-a-day!

Is his pipe mute for aye and for aye, Robbin Gray!
No more shall we 'tend to his song?
Ah, cold as a clod, underneath the green sod,
Poor Robbin they've laid all along—
Wel-a-day!

Then farewell to the forest and hill, Robbin Gray,
And farewell to the valley and grove;
The forest and hill, and the vallies ring still,
Still they echo his ditties of love—
Wel-a-day!

The Blackbird will pensively sing, Robbin Gray,
And the lark as he carrols on high:
The lowly lodg'd swain, as he scatters his grain,
Will chant Robbin's verse with a sigh—
Wel-a-day!

Softly lie on his bosom the turf, Robbin Gray,
Rest his ashes unmingled and pure,
And long may his urn, Caledonia adorn,
And his much-lov'd remains lie secure—
Wel-a-day!