Wi' balmy gale, frae hill and dale What sighs and vows amang the knowes How fond to meet, how wae to part, APPENDIX. ADDITIONAL STANZAS OF THE VISION." N a letter to Mrs. Dunlop, of January 15, 1787, Burns speaks of certain stanzas of The Vision which he had omitted from the printed copy. A manuscript of ten leaves, in Burns's handwriting, has been preserved, which contains The Vision unabridged, as it stood in 1786 - The Gloomy Night is Gathering Fast-The Lass of Ballochmyle My Nannie, O-Handsome Nell-Song in the Character of a Ruined Farmer - Song, Though Cruel Fate should bid us Part-and Misgivings of Despondency on the Approach of the Gloomy Monarch of the Grave; all of them being poems which did not appear in the first edition, but most of which were inserted in the Edinburgh, or second edition. From allusions, the MS. was undoubtedly written after July, 1786, and before the Edinburgh edition came out. By the liberality of Mr. Dick, bookseller, Ayr, present proprietor of the MS., we are enabled to present such portions of its contents as have not seen the light. After 18th stanza of printed copies: With secret throes I marked that earth, And near I saw, bold issuing forth In youthful pride, A Lindsay, race of noble worth, Famed far and wide. Where, hid behind a spreading wood, A female pair; Sweet shone their high maternal blood, An ancient tower to memory brought Who "far in western" climates fought, 1 There, where a sceptred Pictish shade Bold, sodger-featured, undismayed, Among the rest I well could spy I blest that noble badge with joy After the 20th stanza: Near by arose a mansion fine, With holly crowned, But th' ancient, tuneful, laurelled Nine, I mourned the card that Fortune dealt, That village near; There Nature, Friendship, Love I felt, Fond-mingling dear. Hail! Nature's pang, more strong than death! "Not even Of dying friend! "with life's wild devious path, The power that gave the soft alarms, While lovely Wilhelmina warms The coldest heart. After the 21st: Where Lugar leaves his moorland plaid, In fervid flame, Beneath a patroness's aid, Of noble name; While countless hills I could survey, Where polished manners dwelt with Gray Where Cessnock pours with gurgling sound, Slow runs his race, A name I doubly honoured found, With knightly grace. Brydone's brave ward, I saw him stand, Lamenting their late blessed land The owner of a pleasant spot, But large in every feature wrote, Appeared the man. SONG, IN THE CHARACTER OF A RUINED FARMER. TUNE - Go from my window, Love, do. THE sun he is sunk in the west, All creatures retirèd to rest, While here I sit all sore beset With sorrow, grief, and wo; And it's O, fickle Fortune, O! The prosperous man is asleep, Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep; The surly tempest blow: And it's O, fickle Fortune, O! There lies the dear partner of my breast, Must I see thee, my youthful pride, Thus brought so very low! And it's O, fickle Fortune, O! There lie my sweet babies in her arms, I once was by Fortune carest, Now, life's poor support hardly earned, And it's O, fickle Fortune, O! No comfort, no comfort I have! |