The Vision, Duan First and Duan Second
The Vision.- Duan the first.-
The sun had clos'd the winter day,
The curless quat their roarin play,
And hunger'd maukin taen her way,
To kail-yards green,
While faithless snaws ilk step betray
Where she has been.
The Thresher's weary flingin-tree,
The lee-lang day had tir'd me;
And when the Day had clos'd its e'e,
Far i' th' west,
But i' the Spence, right pensivelie,
I gaed to rest.
There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek,
I sat and ey'd the spewing reek,
That fill'd, wi' hoast-provoking smeek,
The auld clay biggin;
And heard the restless rattons squeak
About the riggin.
All in this mottie, misty clime,
I backward mus'd on wasted time,
How I had spent my youthfu' prime,
And done nae-thing,
But stringing blethers up in rhyme,
For fools to sing.
Had I to guid advice but harket,
I might, by this, hae led a market,
The sun had clos'd the winter day,
The curless quat their roarin play,
And hunger'd maukin taen her way,
To kail-yards green,
While faithless snaws ilk step betray
Where she has been.
The Thresher's weary flingin-tree,
The lee-lang day had tir'd me;
And when the Day had clos'd its e'e,
Far i' th' west,
But i' the Spence, right pensivelie,
I gaed to rest.
There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek,
I sat and ey'd the spewing reek,
That fill'd, wi' hoast-provoking smeek,
The auld clay biggin;
And heard the restless rattons squeak
About the riggin.
All in this mottie, misty clime,
I backward mus'd on wasted time,
How I had spent my youthfu' prime,
And done nae-thing,
But stringing blethers up in rhyme,
For fools to sing.
Had I to guid advice but harket,
I might, by this, hae led a market,
Or strutted in a bank and clarket
My cash-account;
While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarket.
Is a' th' amount.
I started, mutt'ring, blockhead! coof!
And heav'd on high my wauket loof,
To swear by a' yon starry roof,
Or some rash aith,
That I henceforth would be rhyme-proof
Till my last breath -
When klick! the string the snick did draw;
And jee! the door gaed to the wa';
And by my ingle-lowe I saw,
Now bleezin bright,
A tight, outlandish Hizzie, braw,
Come full in sight.
I trow I instant held my whisht;
The infant-aith, half-form'd, was crush'd;
I glowr'd as eerie's I'd been dusht,
In some wild glen;
When sweet, like Modest Worth, she blush'd,
And stepped ben.
Green, slender, leaf-clad Holly-boughs
Were twisted, gracefu', round her brows,
I took her for some Scottish Muse,
By that same token;
And come to stop those reckless vows,
Would soon been broken.
My cash-account;
While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarket.
Is a' th' amount.
I started, mutt'ring, blockhead! coof!
And heav'd on high my wauket loof,
To swear by a' yon starry roof,
Or some rash aith,
That I henceforth would be rhyme-proof
Till my last breath -
When klick! the string the snick did draw;
And jee! the door gaed to the wa';
And by my ingle-lowe I saw,
Now bleezin bright,
A tight, outlandish Hizzie, braw,
Come full in sight.
I trow I instant held my whisht;
The infant-aith, half-form'd, was crush'd;
I glowr'd as eerie's I'd been dusht,
In some wild glen;
When sweet, like Modest Worth, she blush'd,
And stepped ben.
Green, slender, leaf-clad Holly-boughs
Were twisted, gracefu', round her brows,
I took her for some Scottish Muse,
By that same token;
And come to stop those reckless vows,
Would soon been broken.
A hare-brain'd, sentimental trace
Was strongly marked in her face;
A wildly-witty, rustic grace
Shone full upon her;
Her eye, ev'n turn'd on empty space,
Beam'd keen with honor.
Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen,
Till half a leg was scrimply seen;
And such a leg! my Bess, I ween,
Could only peer it;
Sae straught, sae taper, tight and clean,
Nane else came near it.
Her Mantle large, of greenish hue,
My gazing wonder chiefly drew:
Deep lights and shades, bold-mingling, threw
A lustre grand;
And seem'd, to my astonish'd view,
A well-known land.
Here rivers in the sea were lost;
There mountains to the skies were tost:
Here tumbling billows mark'd the coast,
With surging foam;
There distant shone Art's lofty boast,
The lordly dome.
Here Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods;
There well-fed Irwine stately thuds:
Was strongly marked in her face;
A wildly-witty, rustic grace
Shone full upon her;
Her eye, ev'n turn'd on empty space,
Beam'd keen with honor.
Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen,
Till half a leg was scrimply seen;
And such a leg! my Bess, I ween,
Could only peer it;
Sae straught, sae taper, tight and clean,
Nane else came near it.
Her Mantle large, of greenish hue,
My gazing wonder chiefly drew:
Deep lights and shades, bold-mingling, threw
A lustre grand;
And seem'd, to my astonish'd view,
A well-known land.
Here rivers in the sea were lost;
There mountains to the skies were tost:
Here tumbling billows mark'd the coast,
With surging foam;
There distant shone Art's lofty boast,
The lordly dome.
Here Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods;
There well-fed Irwine stately thuds:
Auld, hermit Aire staw thro' his woods,
On to the shore;
And many a lesser torrent scuds,
With seeming roar.
Low, in a sandy valley spread,
Ayr } An ancient Borough rear'd her head;
Still, as in Scottish story read,
She boasts a race.
To ev'ry nobler virtue bred,
And polish'd grace.
By stately tow'r, or Mansion fair,
Or ruins pendent in the air,
Bold stems of Heroes, here and there,
I could discern;
Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare,
With feature stern.
My heart did glowing transport feel,
Wallaces} To see a race heroic wheel,
And brandish round the deep-dyed steel,
In sturdy blows;
While back-recoiling, seem'd to reel
Their Suthron foes.
His Country’s saviour, mark him well!
Bold + Richardton’s heroic swell!
The Great Wallace-
+ Adam Wallace of Richardton cousin to the great
Wallace, the Deliverer of Scotland.
On to the shore;
And many a lesser torrent scuds,
With seeming roar.
Low, in a sandy valley spread,
Ayr } An ancient Borough rear'd her head;
Still, as in Scottish story read,
She boasts a race.
To ev'ry nobler virtue bred,
And polish'd grace.
By stately tow'r, or Mansion fair,
Or ruins pendent in the air,
Bold stems of Heroes, here and there,
I could discern;
Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare,
With feature stern.
My heart did glowing transport feel,
Wallaces} To see a race heroic wheel,
And brandish round the deep-dyed steel,
In sturdy blows;
While back-recoiling, seem'd to reel
Their Suthron foes.
His Country’s saviour, mark him well!
Bold + Richardton’s heroic swell!
The Great Wallace-
+ Adam Wallace of Richardton cousin to the great
Wallace, the Deliverer of Scotland.

Key details
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/02/179
- Alt. number
- 3.6275.a
- Date
- September 1786
- On display
- No
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
Archive information
Themes
Hierarchy
-
Robert Burns, collection of poems and songs
(
a sub-fonds is a subdivision in the archival material)
- The Vision, Duan First and Duan Second
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