Robert Burns Poems

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HERE, where the Scottish Muse immortal lives,
In sacred strains and tuneful numbers joined,
Accept the gift; though humble he who gives,
Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind.


So may no ruffian-feeling in my breast,
Discordant, jar thy bosom-chords among;
But Peace attune thy gentle soul to rest,
Or Love, ecstatic, wake his seraph song,


Or Pity’s notes, in luxury of tears,
As modest Want the tale of woe reveals;
While conscious Virtue all the strains endears,
And heaven-born Piety her sanction seals.

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