A MONODY ON THE DEATH OF ROBert burns, THE SCOTCH BARD. WRITTEN BY S. KEMBLE, ESQ. For two Voices.-Tune Gaffer Gray. AHL what's there ill nows; speak, old Robin Gray, That thy blue bonnet's pluck'd o'er thy brow? And the plough-man weeps over his plough, And the plough-man weeps over his plough. Is he gone then for aye, and for aye, No more shall we list to his song? Poor Robin they've lain all along, Poor Robin they've lain all along. Adieu then the forest and bill, And farewell the vallies and grove! And the vallies ring still, Still echo his ditties of love. Still echo his ditties of love. The sad sound of echo 1'll shun, Its dying notes live on my mind: From your forefather's home, Leave your forefather's feelings behind, Well, a well a day, Leave your forefather's feelings behind? Still the blackbird will sing on the thorn, And the lark early carol on high, Will chaunt Robin's verse with a sigh, Will chaunt Robin's verse with a sigh. Softly lie on his bosom the turf, Rest his ashes unmingled and pure; Caledonia adora, And his much-lov'd remains so secure, And his much lov'd remains so secure. CONTENTS. THE HE Dedication The Life of Robert Burns Encomium on Burns Burns' Epitaph on himself Monody on the Death of Robert Burns The Twa Dogs Scotch Drink PAGE. iii xvi ib. xviii I 7 The Author's Earnest Cry and Prayer to the Scotch Repre sentatives in the House of Commons The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie, "the Author's only Pet Yewe Poor Mailie's Elegy To J. S**** A Dream The Vision-Duan first Duan second Address to the Unco Guid; or, the Rigidly Righteous . ib. 95 96 Per Contra Halloween The Auld Farmer's New Year's Morning Salutation to his To a Mouse, on turning her up in her Nest with the Plough, Nov. 1785 A Winter Night Epistle to Davie, a Brother Poet Second Epistle to Davie Lord Gregory Winter, a Dirge The Cotter's Saturday Night To a Mountain Daisy Epistle to a young Friend On a Scotch Bard, gone to the West Indies Song. No churchman am I for to rail and to write A Stanza added to ditto in a Mason Lodge On seeing a wounded Hare limp by me which a Fellow had Inscription to the Memory of Fergusson To Miss Cruikshanks, a very young Lady, written on the blank leaf of a book presepted to her by the Author Song. Auna, thy Charms my Bosom fire On reading in a Newspaper the Death of John M'Leod, Esq. Brother to a Young Lady, a particular Friend of |