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THE POETICAL WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS
CXXXII. MONODY, ON A LADY FAMED FOR HER CAPRICE

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[The heroine Of this rough lampoon was Mrs. Riddel of Woodleigh Park: a lady young and gay, much of a wit, and something of a poetess, and till the hour of his death the friend of Burns himself. She pulled his displeasure on her, it is said, by smiling more sweetly than he liked on some “epauletted coxcombs,” for so he sometimes designated commissioned officers: the lady soon laughed him out of his mood. We owe to her pen an account of her last interview with the poet, written with great beauty and feeling.]

How cold is that bosom which folly once fired,

How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glisten’d!

How silent that tongue which the echoes oft tired,

How dull is that ear which to flattery so listen’d!

If sorrow and anguish their exit await,

From friendship and dearest affection remov’d;

How doubly severer, Maria, thy fate,

Thou diest unwept as thou livedst unlov’d.

Loves, Graces, and Virtues, I call not on you;

So shy, grave, and distant, ye shed not a tear:

But come, all ye offspring of Folly so true,

And flowers let us cull for Maria’s cold bier.

We’ll search through the garden for each silly flower,

We’ll roam through the forest for each idle weed;

But chiefly the nettle, so typical, shower,

For none e’er approach’d her but rued the rash deed.

We’ll sculpture the marble, we’ll measure the lay;

Here Vanity strums on her idiot lyre;

There keen indignation shall dart on her prey,

Which spurning Contempt shall redeem from his ire.

THE EPITAPH

Here lies, now a prey to insulting neglect,

What once was a butterfly, gay in life’s beam:

Want only of wisdom denied her respect,

Want only of goodness denied her esteem


The Complete Works

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