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THE POETICAL WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS
LVIII. WILLIE CHALMERS

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[Lockhart first gave this poetic curiosity to the world: he copied it from a small manuscript volume of Poems given by Burns to Lady Harriet Don, with an explanation in these words: “W. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows.” Chalmers was a writer in Ayr. I have not heard that the lady was influenced by this volunteer effusion: ladies are seldom rhymed into the matrimonial snare.]

I.

Wi’ braw new branks in mickle pride,

And eke a braw new brechan,

My Pegasus I’m got astride,

And up Parnassus pechin;

Whiles owre a bush wi’ downward crush

The doitie beastie stammers;

Then up he gets and off he sets

For sake o’ Willie Chalmers.

II.

I doubt na, lass, that weel kenn’d name

May cost a pair o’ blushes;

I am nae stranger to your fame,

Nor his warm urged wishes.

Your bonnie face sae mild and sweet

His honest heart enamours,

And faith ye’ll no be lost a whit,

Tho’ waired on Willie Chalmers.

III.

Auld Truth hersel’ might swear ye’re fair,

And Honour safely back her,

And Modesty assume your air,

And ne’er a ane mistak’ her:

And sic twa love-inspiring een

Might fire even holy Palmers;

Nae wonder then they’ve fatal been

To honest Willie Chalmers.

IV.

I doubt na fortune may you shore

Some mim-mou’d pouthered priestie,

Fu’ lifted up wi’ Hebrew lore,

And band upon his breastie:

But Oh! what signifies to you

His lexicons and grammars;

The feeling heart’s the royal blue,

And that’s wi’ Willie Chalmers.

V.

Some gapin’ glowrin’ countra laird,

May warstle for your favour;

May claw his lug, and straik his beard,

And hoast up some palaver.

My bonnie maid, before ye wed

Sic clumsy-witted hammers,

Seek Heaven for help, and barefit skelp

Awa’ wi’ Willie Chalmers.

VI.

Forgive the Bard! my fond regard

For ane that shares my bosom,

Inspires my muse to gie ‘m his dues,

For de’il a hair I roose him.

May powers aboon unite you soon,

And fructify your amours,—

And every year come in mair dear


To you and Willie Chalmers.


The Complete Works

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