Three Poems from Rabbie Burns
A Note to think about
The next three tabs have the full text of three well know Babbie Burns poems, printed in their original format and 'Translated' into modern English (should your Lowlands Scottish be a little rusty! - WebEd). Just 'Click' the tab to have a read!
Poem 1.
To a Mouse - Original version
Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request:
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' wast,
An' weary Winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald.
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry Man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave 'S a sma' request:
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' wast,
An' weary Winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee-bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald.
To thole the Winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
And Translated as:
Small, crafty, cowering, timorous little beast,
Oh, what a panic is in your breast!
You need not start away so hasty
With your hurrying scamper
I would be loath to run and chase you,
With murdering plough-staff.
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes you startle
At me, your poor, earth born companion
And fellow mortal!
I doubt not, sometimes, but you may steal;
What then? Poor little beast, you must live!
An odd ear in twenty-four sheaves
Is a small request;
I will get a blessing with what is left,
And never miss it.
Your small house, too, in ruin!
Its feeble walls the winds are scattering!
And nothing now, to build a new one,
Of coarse grass green!
And bleak December's winds coming,
Both bitter and piercing!
You saw the fields laid bare and wasted,
And weary winter coming fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel plough passed
Out through your cell.
That small bit heap of leaves and stubble,
Has cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you are turned out, for all your trouble,
Without house or holding,
To endure the winter's sleety dribble,
And hoar-frost cold.
But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!
Still you are blessed, compared with me!
The present only touches you:
But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear!
Small, crafty, cowering, timorous little beast,
Oh, what a panic is in your breast!
You need not start away so hasty
With your hurrying scamper
I would be loath to run and chase you,
With murdering plough-staff.
I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes you startle
At me, your poor, earth born companion
And fellow mortal!
I doubt not, sometimes, but you may steal;
What then? Poor little beast, you must live!
An odd ear in twenty-four sheaves
Is a small request;
I will get a blessing with what is left,
And never miss it.
Your small house, too, in ruin!
Its feeble walls the winds are scattering!
And nothing now, to build a new one,
Of coarse grass green!
And bleak December's winds coming,
Both bitter and piercing!
You saw the fields laid bare and wasted,
And weary winter coming fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel plough passed
Out through your cell.
That small bit heap of leaves and stubble,
Has cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you are turned out, for all your trouble,
Without house or holding,
To endure the winter's sleety dribble,
And hoar-frost cold.
But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!
Still you are blessed, compared with me!
The present only touches you:
But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear!
Poem 2
Holy Willie's Prayer - Notes on the poem
'Holy Willie's Prayer' is a poem that was written about a certain Willie Fisher who was an elder in the Parish church of Mauchline, in Ayrshire. Fisher was a hypocrite and himself a sinner who spied on people and reported them to the minister if he thought they were doing wrong.
The poem is a satire based on Fisher's sickly self-righteousness. The phrase "Holy Willie" have become part of the Scots language for describing someone that is humourless and ultra religious.
Remember, Burns was a 'God fearing' man. This poem is not anti-religion. It is strictly a condemnation of religious hypocrisy and self righteousness.
'Holy Willie's Prayer' is a poem that was written about a certain Willie Fisher who was an elder in the Parish church of Mauchline, in Ayrshire. Fisher was a hypocrite and himself a sinner who spied on people and reported them to the minister if he thought they were doing wrong.
The poem is a satire based on Fisher's sickly self-righteousness. The phrase "Holy Willie" have become part of the Scots language for describing someone that is humourless and ultra religious.
Remember, Burns was a 'God fearing' man. This poem is not anti-religion. It is strictly a condemnation of religious hypocrisy and self righteousness.
Holy Willie's Prayer - Original version
O Thou, that in the heavens does dwell,
As it pleases best Thysel',
Sends ane to Heaven an' ten to Hell,
For Thy glory,
And no for onie guid or ill
They've done afore Thee!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou hast left in night,
That I am here afore Thy sight,
For gifts an' grace
A burning and a shining light
To a' this place.
What was I, or my generation,
That I should get sic exaltation?
I wha deserv'd most just damnation
For broken laws,
Six thousand years 'ere my creation,
Thro' Adam's cause.
When from my mither's womb I fell,
Thou might hae plung'd me deep in hell,
To gnash my gums, and weep and wail,
In burnin lakes,
Where damned devils roar and yell,
Chain'd to their stakes.
Yet I am here a chosen sample,
To show thy grace is great and ample;
I'm here a pillar o' Thy temple,
Strong as a rock,
A guide, a buckler, and example,
To a' Thy flock.
O Lord, Thou kens what zeal I bear,
When drinkers drink, an' swearers swear,
An' singing here, an' dancin there,
Wi' great and sma';
For I am keepit by Thy fear
Free frae them a'.
But yet, O Lord! confess I must,
At times I'm fash'd wi' fleshly lust:
An' sometimes, too, in worldly trust,
Vile self gets in;
But Thou remembers we are dust,
Defil'd wi' sin.
O Lord! yestreen, Thou kens, wi' Meg
Thy pardon I sincerely beg;
O may't ne'er be a livin' plague
To my dishonour,
An' I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg
Again upon her.
Besides, I farther maun avow,
Wi' Leezie's lass, three times I trow -
But Lord, that Friday I was fou,
When I cam near her;
Or else, Thou kens, Thy servant true
Wad never steer her.
Maybe Thou lets this fleshly thorn
Buffet Thy servant e'en and morn,
Lest he owre proud and high shou'd turn,
That he's sae gifted:
If sae, Thy han' maun e'en be borne,
Until Thou lift it.
Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place,
For here Thou has a chosen race!
But God confound there stubborn face,
An' blast their name,
Wha brings Thy elders to disgrace
An' open shame.
Lord, mind Gaw'n Hamilton's deserts;
He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes,
Yet has sae mony takin arts,
Wi' great an' sma',
Frae God's ain priest the people's hearts
He steals awa'.
And when we chasten'd him therefore,
Thou kens how he bred sic a splore,
And set the world in a roar
O' laughing at us;
Curse Thou his basket and his store,
Kail an' potatoes.
Lord, hear my earnest cry and pray'r,
Against that Presbyt'ry o' Ayr;
Thy strong right hand, Lord mak it bare
Upo' their heads;
Lord visit them, an' dinna spare,
For their misdeeds.
O Lord my God! that glib-tongu'd Aitken,
My vera heart an' flesh are quakin,
To think how we stood sweatin, shakin,
An' pish'd wi' dread,
While he, wi' hingin lip an' snakin,
Held up his head.
Lord, in Thy day o' vengeance try him,
Lord, visit them wha did employ him,
And pass not in Thy mercy by them,
Nor hear their pray'r,
But for Thy people's sake destroy them,
An' dinna spare.
But, Lord, remember me an' mine
Wi' mercies temporal and divine,
That I for grace an' gear may shine,
Excell'd by nane,
And a' the glory shall be Thine,
Amen, Amen!
O Thou, that in the heavens does dwell,
As it pleases best Thysel',
Sends ane to Heaven an' ten to Hell,
For Thy glory,
And no for onie guid or ill
They've done afore Thee!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou hast left in night,
That I am here afore Thy sight,
For gifts an' grace
A burning and a shining light
To a' this place.
What was I, or my generation,
That I should get sic exaltation?
I wha deserv'd most just damnation
For broken laws,
Six thousand years 'ere my creation,
Thro' Adam's cause.
When from my mither's womb I fell,
Thou might hae plung'd me deep in hell,
To gnash my gums, and weep and wail,
In burnin lakes,
Where damned devils roar and yell,
Chain'd to their stakes.
Yet I am here a chosen sample,
To show thy grace is great and ample;
I'm here a pillar o' Thy temple,
Strong as a rock,
A guide, a buckler, and example,
To a' Thy flock.
O Lord, Thou kens what zeal I bear,
When drinkers drink, an' swearers swear,
An' singing here, an' dancin there,
Wi' great and sma';
For I am keepit by Thy fear
Free frae them a'.
But yet, O Lord! confess I must,
At times I'm fash'd wi' fleshly lust:
An' sometimes, too, in worldly trust,
Vile self gets in;
But Thou remembers we are dust,
Defil'd wi' sin.
O Lord! yestreen, Thou kens, wi' Meg
Thy pardon I sincerely beg;
O may't ne'er be a livin' plague
To my dishonour,
An' I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg
Again upon her.
Besides, I farther maun avow,
Wi' Leezie's lass, three times I trow -
But Lord, that Friday I was fou,
When I cam near her;
Or else, Thou kens, Thy servant true
Wad never steer her.
Maybe Thou lets this fleshly thorn
Buffet Thy servant e'en and morn,
Lest he owre proud and high shou'd turn,
That he's sae gifted:
If sae, Thy han' maun e'en be borne,
Until Thou lift it.
Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place,
For here Thou has a chosen race!
But God confound there stubborn face,
An' blast their name,
Wha brings Thy elders to disgrace
An' open shame.
Lord, mind Gaw'n Hamilton's deserts;
He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes,
Yet has sae mony takin arts,
Wi' great an' sma',
Frae God's ain priest the people's hearts
He steals awa'.
And when we chasten'd him therefore,
Thou kens how he bred sic a splore,
And set the world in a roar
O' laughing at us;
Curse Thou his basket and his store,
Kail an' potatoes.
Lord, hear my earnest cry and pray'r,
Against that Presbyt'ry o' Ayr;
Thy strong right hand, Lord mak it bare
Upo' their heads;
Lord visit them, an' dinna spare,
For their misdeeds.
O Lord my God! that glib-tongu'd Aitken,
My vera heart an' flesh are quakin,
To think how we stood sweatin, shakin,
An' pish'd wi' dread,
While he, wi' hingin lip an' snakin,
Held up his head.
Lord, in Thy day o' vengeance try him,
Lord, visit them wha did employ him,
And pass not in Thy mercy by them,
Nor hear their pray'r,
But for Thy people's sake destroy them,
An' dinna spare.
But, Lord, remember me an' mine
Wi' mercies temporal and divine,
That I for grace an' gear may shine,
Excell'd by nane,
And a' the glory shall be Thine,
Amen, Amen!
And translated as:
O Thou, who in the heavens does dwell,
[And] As it pleases best Thyself,
Sends one to Heaven and ten to Hell,
All for Thy glory,
And not for any good or bad
They've done during their lifetime!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou has left in night
That I am here before Thy sight,
For gifts and grace
A burning and a shining light
To all this place.
Why should I, or my very birth,
Receive such exaltation?
I who deserved most just damnation
For broken laws,
Six thousand years before my birth,
All on account of Adam’s Original sin.
When from my mother's womb I fell,
Thou might have plunged me deep in hell,
To gnash my gums, and weep and wail,
In burning lakes,
Where damned devils roar and yell,
Chained to their stakes.
Yet I am here a chosen sample,
To show [that] thy grace is great and ample;
I'm here a pillar of Thy temple,
Strong as a rock,
A guide, a shield, and an example,
To all Thy flock.
O Lord, Thou knows what zeal I have,
When drinkers drink, and swearers swear,
Singing here, and dancing there,
As do all the social classes;
For I am kept, through fear of Thee,
Free from all these sins.
But yet, O Lord, confess I must,
At times I feel the lust of the flesh:
And sometimes, too, since I am only human,
Vile self gets in;
But Thou remembers we are dust,
Defiled with sin.
O Lord! Yesterday evening, Thou knows, [I layed] with Meg
Thy pardon I sincerely beg;
O may it never be a living plague
To my dishonour,
And I'll never lift a lawless leg - Again upon her.
Besides, I must also declare,
I had Lizzie’s daughter three times,
But Lord, that Friday I was drunk,
When I came near her;
Or else, Thou knows, Thy servant true
Would never have taken her.
Perhaps Thou lets this fleshly thorn
Torment Thy servant evening and morning
So he doesn't get too high and mighty,
About being being so gifted:
If so, Thy hand must always be borne
Until Thou lifts it.
Lord, bless Thy chosen ones in this place,
For here Thou has a chosen race!
But God confound their stubborn face,
And blast the name,
Of those who bring Thy elders to disgrace,
And open shame.
Lord, ensure Gavin Hamilton gets his just deserts;
He drinks, and swears, and plays cards,
Yet has so much influence
Among all the social classes
From God's own priest, the people's hearts
He steals away.
And when we tried to make him change his ways,
Thou knows how he raised such a merriment,
And set the world in a roar
Of laughing at us;
Curse Thou his livelihood and his possessions,
Kail and potatoes. (i.e. all his crops)
Lord, hear my earnest cry and prayer,
Against that Presbytery of Ayr; (The church court)
[With] Thy strong right hand, Lord, smite them
Upon their heads;
Lord visit them, and do not spare them,
For their misdeeds.
O Lord my God! that glib-tongued Aitken,
My very heart and body are quaking,
To think how we stood sweating, shaking,
Wetting ourselves with dread,
While he, the smooth talking snake,
Was able to win his case.
Lord, in Thy day of vengeance try him,
Lord, visit them who did employ him,
And pass not in Thy mercy by them,
Nor hear their prayer,
But for Thy people's sake destroy them,
Do not spare them.
But, Lord, remember me and mine,
With mercies temporal and divine,
So that I for grace and wealth may shine,
Excelled by none,
And all the glory shall be Thine
Amen, Amen!
(A translation by Ashleigh Hogg)
O Thou, who in the heavens does dwell,
[And] As it pleases best Thyself,
Sends one to Heaven and ten to Hell,
All for Thy glory,
And not for any good or bad
They've done during their lifetime!
I bless and praise Thy matchless might,
When thousands Thou has left in night
That I am here before Thy sight,
For gifts and grace
A burning and a shining light
To all this place.
Why should I, or my very birth,
Receive such exaltation?
I who deserved most just damnation
For broken laws,
Six thousand years before my birth,
All on account of Adam’s Original sin.
When from my mother's womb I fell,
Thou might have plunged me deep in hell,
To gnash my gums, and weep and wail,
In burning lakes,
Where damned devils roar and yell,
Chained to their stakes.
Yet I am here a chosen sample,
To show [that] thy grace is great and ample;
I'm here a pillar of Thy temple,
Strong as a rock,
A guide, a shield, and an example,
To all Thy flock.
O Lord, Thou knows what zeal I have,
When drinkers drink, and swearers swear,
Singing here, and dancing there,
As do all the social classes;
For I am kept, through fear of Thee,
Free from all these sins.
But yet, O Lord, confess I must,
At times I feel the lust of the flesh:
And sometimes, too, since I am only human,
Vile self gets in;
But Thou remembers we are dust,
Defiled with sin.
O Lord! Yesterday evening, Thou knows, [I layed] with Meg
Thy pardon I sincerely beg;
O may it never be a living plague
To my dishonour,
And I'll never lift a lawless leg - Again upon her.
Besides, I must also declare,
I had Lizzie’s daughter three times,
But Lord, that Friday I was drunk,
When I came near her;
Or else, Thou knows, Thy servant true
Would never have taken her.
Perhaps Thou lets this fleshly thorn
Torment Thy servant evening and morning
So he doesn't get too high and mighty,
About being being so gifted:
If so, Thy hand must always be borne
Until Thou lifts it.
Lord, bless Thy chosen ones in this place,
For here Thou has a chosen race!
But God confound their stubborn face,
And blast the name,
Of those who bring Thy elders to disgrace,
And open shame.
Lord, ensure Gavin Hamilton gets his just deserts;
He drinks, and swears, and plays cards,
Yet has so much influence
Among all the social classes
From God's own priest, the people's hearts
He steals away.
And when we tried to make him change his ways,
Thou knows how he raised such a merriment,
And set the world in a roar
Of laughing at us;
Curse Thou his livelihood and his possessions,
Kail and potatoes. (i.e. all his crops)
Lord, hear my earnest cry and prayer,
Against that Presbytery of Ayr; (The church court)
[With] Thy strong right hand, Lord, smite them
Upon their heads;
Lord visit them, and do not spare them,
For their misdeeds.
O Lord my God! that glib-tongued Aitken,
My very heart and body are quaking,
To think how we stood sweating, shaking,
Wetting ourselves with dread,
While he, the smooth talking snake,
Was able to win his case.
Lord, in Thy day of vengeance try him,
Lord, visit them who did employ him,
And pass not in Thy mercy by them,
Nor hear their prayer,
But for Thy people's sake destroy them,
Do not spare them.
But, Lord, remember me and mine,
With mercies temporal and divine,
So that I for grace and wealth may shine,
Excelled by none,
And all the glory shall be Thine
Amen, Amen!
(A translation by Ashleigh Hogg)
Poem 3
Auld Lang Syne - Original only?
Written in 1788, sang the world over (well, the chorus anyway) in its' original form, it is tempting NOT to include a 'translation'
Written in 1788, sang the world over (well, the chorus anyway) in its' original form, it is tempting NOT to include a 'translation'
Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
Chorus.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
Chorus.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.
OK, we couldn't resist it - In Translation
(BUT could you really see/hear yourself singing this…)
Times Gone By
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago!
Chorus:
For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.
We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For times gone by.
We two have paddled (waded) in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since times gone by.
And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill drink (of ale)
For times gone by!
And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by!
(BUT could you really see/hear yourself singing this…)
Times Gone By
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintances be forgotten,
And days of long ago!
Chorus:
For times gone by, my dear
For times gone by,
We will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by.
We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the daisies fine,
But we have wandered many a weary foot
For times gone by.
We two have paddled (waded) in the stream
From noon until dinner time,
But seas between us broad have roared
Since times gone by.
And there is a hand, my trusty friend,
And give us a hand of yours,
And we will take a goodwill drink (of ale)
For times gone by!
And surely you will pay for your pint,
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet
For times gone by!