ried to "gae back the gate I cam again," but the
same obstacle has shut me up within insuperable bars. To add to my
misfortune, since dinner, a scraper has been torturing catgut, in
sounds that would have insulted the dying agonies of a sow under the
hands of a butcher, and thinks himself, on that very account,
exceeding good company. In fact, I have been in a dilemma, either to
get drunk, to forget these miseries; or to hang myself, to get rid of
them: like a prudent man (a character congenial to my every thought,
word, and deed), I of two evils have chosen the least, and am very
drunk, at your service!

I wrote you yesterday from Dumfries. I had not time then to tell you
all I wanted to say; and, Heaven knows, at present have not capacity.

Do you know an air--I am sure you must know it--"We'll gang nae mair
to yon town?" I think, in slowish time, it would make an excellent
song. I am highly delighted with it; and if you should think it worthy
of your attention, I have a fair dame in my eye to whom I would
consecrate it.

As I am just going to bed, I wish you a good night.

R. B.

* * * * *

CCCXII.

TO MR. THOMSON.

[The song of Caledonia, in honour of Mrs. Burns, was accompanied by
two others in honour of the poet's mistress: the muse was high in
song, and used few words in the letter which enclosed them.]

_May, 1795._

O stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay![277]

Let me know, your very first leisure, how you like this song.

Long, long the night.[278]

How do you like the foregoing? The Irish air, "Humours of Glen," is a
great favourite of mine, and as, except the silly stuff in the "Poor
Soldier," there are not any decent verses for it, I have written for
it as follows:--

Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon.[279]

Let me hear from you.

R. B.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 277: Song CCXLIX.]

[Footnote 278: Song CCL.]

[Footnote 279: Song CCLI.]

* * * * *

CCCXIII.

TO MR. THOMSON.

[The poet calls for praise in this letter, a species of coin which is
always ready.]

How cruel are the parents.[280]

Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion.[281]

Well, this is not amiss. You see how I answer your orders--your tailor
could not be more punctual. I am just now in a high fit for poetizing,
provided that the strait-jacket of criticism don't cure me. If you
can, in a post or