Among the natural objects which exert potent sway over the poetry of Robert Burns were the streams of Ayrshire, Scotland. His best inspiration came to him from them. For the first time in English literature the burning ardor of a passionate soul went out entirely toward Nature. It became part of his very being.
'The Muse, na Poet ever fand her,
Till by himsel he learn'd to wander
Adown some trottin' burn's meander,
An' no think lang;
O sweet to stray, an' pensive ponder
A heart-felt sang.'
- R. Burns
-To William Simpson, stanza 15
...he wrote with an exuberance of appreciation which had never before been heard in verse.
North draws the watercourses,
Red from the hills, innumerable streams
Tumultuous roars
The color of these torrents betrays
their Scottish origin.
Spates in these native streams
sweep across tracts of sandstone,
Coming down in a red-brick hue.
Here the bard slowly passes:
He is led into a lowly dale fast
by a river's side,
He wanders through sleep-soothing groves and quiet lawns between,
He sees glittering streamlets in a sunny glade.
He skirts a sable, silent, solemn forest,
And passes a wood of blackening pines.
They run up the hills on either side
amid embowering trees.
They make a kind of checkered
day and night.
Here the bard adopts, with perfect
ease, this inspiration:
With turgidity and latinism
he eyes the charms of the free, open face of nature.
Beyond the scene - a wide undulating plain
- a wide pastoral countryside.
Here the streams cross the
lowlands to the sea.
Along they flow in a narrow glen
opening into a wider strath,
Some creeping sullenly in a narrow
chasm between precipitous walls
of naked stone;
Some dash merrily over rock and boulder
beneath overarching trees;
Some sweep in curves through open
meadows or dense woods,
Finally carrying their burden of mossy
water into a blue firth.
Endless these streams play among
sunshine and shadow
Dancing with wild flowers and birds;
The inspiration comes with strong affections.
Infinite in variety of form, of color
of life and sound;
Of calm and storm, touching the
inmost heart!
With burning ardour of a passionate
soul he went out in tumultuous joy -
The hills and woods, the streams and
dells he visited upon -
And they ministered to his joys; they
soothed his sorrows.
'We'll gar out streams and burnies shine
Up wi' the best.
We'll sing auld Coila's plains an' fells,
her moors red-brown wi' heather bells,
Her banks an' braes, her dens an' dells.'
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
This has been an educational and very keen observation from reader and writer of literature and the beautiful landscape of my homeland Scotland and it make me proud to read this and God knows what a proud clan the Scots are.
Keep your gift sharp Mr. Christiano
*-* This is so prettiful! The imagery here, is just Amazing!! I had to read this a few times (with the aid of a dictionary once or twice ^-^) but the last time it was just perfect! I really like the line "carrying their burden of mossy water into a blue firth". Hehe, what I wouldn't give to be the bard in this poem! ^-^
sable, silent, solemn forest... now say THAT ten times fast. ;-P
I like how you give life to things by describing them as "He wanders... sees... skirts... passes... & runs" (2nd stanza).
It's a happy scene (merrily, play, dancing, strong affections, tumultuous joy, and last but not least... they ministered to his joys; they
soothed his sorrows.)
It read almost like a narrative of a National Geographic show, very detailed and upbeat. I hardly felt like I was reading a poem. Thank you for sharing this.
Welcome !
