A PRAYER IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH. O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause In whose dread presence, ere an hour, If I have wander'd in those paths As something, loudly, in my breast, Thou knows't that Thou hast formed me, Has often led me wrong. Where human weakness has come short, Or frailty stept aside, Do Thou, All-Good! for such thou art, In shades of darkness hide. Where with intention I have err'd, But, Thou art good; and goodness still Delighteth to forgive. This Prayer justifies the remarks of Wordsworth."We have rejected as false sometimes in the letter, many of the testimonies that others have borne against Burns:-but by his own hand-in words, the import of which cannot be mistaken-it has been recorded that the order of his life but faintly corresponded with the clearness of his views." In fits of despondency he looked darkly on the errors of his ways; and frailties, which to men of less sensibility, seemed venial, assumed hues which made him tremble. In these moods-and they were not unfrequent-indulgence at the table with his companions, profane wit, and trystings after twilight among the lasses of Kyle, grew into colossal enormities, and they pressed the harder on him because he felt that "" passions, wild and strong," were ever ready to sweep resolutions of amendment away. STANZAS ON THE SAME OCCASION. WHY am I loth to leave this earthly scene? Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode ? And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod. Fain would I say, “ Forgive my foul offence!" Fain promise never more to disobey; But, should my Author health again dispense, Again exalt the brute and sink the man; Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan? Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran? O Thou, great Governor of all below! If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee, Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow, To rule their torrent in th'allowed line; "The 'Prayer' and the Stanzas' were composed,' says Burns, “when faiuting fits and other alarming symptoms of a pleurisy or some other dangerous disarder, which indeed still threatens me, first put nature on the alarm." In another place he designates the Stanzas " Misgivings in the hour of despondency and prospect of death." Elsewhere he says in his Memoranda, "The grand end of human life is to cultivate an intercourse with that Being to whom we owe life with every enjoyment that renders life delightful.” A WINTER NIGHT. "Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are SHAKSPEARE. WHEN biting Boreas, fell and doure, Far south the lift, Dim-darkening through the flaky show'r, Ae night the storm the steeples rocked, Wild-eddying swirl, Or through the mining outlet bocked, Down headlong hurl. Listening, the doors an' winnocks rattle, Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle O' winter war, And through the drift, deep-lairing sprattle, Beneath a scar. Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing, What comes o' thee? Whare wilt thou cow'r thy chittering wing, An' close thy e'e? Ev'n you on murd'ring errands toil'd, Lone from your savage homes exiled, The blood-stained roost, and sheep-cote spoiled My heart forgets, While pitiless the tempest wild Sore on you beats. Now Phoebe, in her midnight reign, Rose in my soul, When on my ear this plaintive strain Slow, solemn, stole : "Blow, blow, ye winds, with heayier gust! Not all your rage, as now united, shows Vengeful malice unrepenting, Than heaven-illumined man on brother man bestows! |