Home ⇒ 📌Robert Burns ⇒ 467. Inscription to Miss Graham of Fintry
467. Inscription to Miss Graham of Fintry
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.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- 351. Second Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry LATE crippl’d of an arm, and now a leg, About to beg a pass for leave to beg; Dull, listless, teas’d, dejected, and deprest (Nature is adverse to a cripple’s rest); Will generous Graham list to his Poet’s wail? (It soothes poor Misery, hearkening to her tale) And hear him curse the light he first […]...
- 231. Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry WHEN Nature her great master-piece design’d, And fram’d her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all the mazy plan, She form’d of various parts the various Man. Then first she calls the useful many forth; Plain plodding Industry, and sober Worth: Thence peasants, farmers, native sons of earth, And merchandise’ whole […]...
- 153. Inscription for the Headstone of Fergusson the Poet NO 1 sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, “No storied urn nor animated bust;” This simple stone directs pale Scotia’s way, To pour her sorrows o’er the Poet’s dust. ADDITIONAL STANZASShe mourns, sweet tuneful youth, thy hapless fate; Tho’ all the powers of song thy fancy fired, Yet Luxury and Wealth lay by in state, […]...
- My Gentle Harp My gentle Harp, once more I waken The sweetness of thy slumbering strain; In tears our last farewell was taken, And now in tears we meet again. No light of joy hath o’er thee broken, But, like those harps whose heavenly skill Of slavery, dark as thine, hath spoken, Thou hang’st upon the willows still. […]...
- 281. Sonnet to R. Graham, Esq., on Receiving a Favour I CALL no Goddess to inspire my strains, A fabled Muse may suit a bard that feigns: Friend of my life! my ardent spirit burns, And all the tribute of my heart returns, For boons accorded, goodness ever new, The gifts still dearer, as the giver you. Thou orb of day! thou other paler light! […]...
- Miss Loo When thin-strewn memory I look through, I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, Her nose, her hair her muffled words, And how she’d open her green eyes, As if in some immense surprise, Whenever as we sat at tea, She made some small remark to me. It’s always […]...
- 521. Inscription for an Alter of Independence THOU of an independent mind, With soul resolv’d, with soul resign’d; Prepar’d Power’s proudest frown to brave, Who wilt not be, nor have a slave; Virtue alone who dost revere, Thy own reproach alone dost fear- Approach this shrine, and worship here....
- The Promise of Sleep Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind, The dreams from out thy breast; No joy for thee but thou shalt find Thy rest All day I could not work for woe, I could not work nor rest; The trouble drove me to and fro, Like a leaf on the storm’s breast. Night came and […]...
- The Seraph and the Poet THE seraph sings before the manifest God-One, and in the burning of the Seven, And with the full life of consummate Heaving beneath him like a mother’s Warm with her first-born’s slumber in that The poet sings upon the earth grave-riven, Before the naughty world, soon self-forgiven For wronging him, and in the darkness prest […]...
- Inscription 08 – For The Cenotaph At Ermenonville STRANGER! the MAN OF NATURE lies not here: Enshrin’d far distant by his rival’s side His relics rest, there by the giddy throng With blind idolatry alike revered! Wiselier directed have thy pilgrim feet Explor’d the scenes of Ermenonville. ROUSSEAU Loved these calm haunts of Solitude and Peace; Here he has heard the murmurs of […]...
- Inscription For A Fountain On A Heath This Sycamore, oft musical with bees, Such tents the Patriarchs loved! O long unharmed May all its agйd boughs o’er-canopy The small round basin, which this jutting stone Keeps pure from falling leaves! Long may the Spring, Quietly as a sleeping infant’s breath, Send up cold waters to the traveller With soft and even pulse! […]...
- The Meeting I see her still by her fair train surrounded, The fairest of them all, she took her place; Afar I stood, by her bright charms confounded, For, oh! they dazzled with their heavenly grace. With awe my soul was filled with bliss unbounded, While gazing on her softly radiant face; But soon, as if up-borne […]...
- To Cesario CESARIO, thy Lyre’s dulcet measure, So sweetly, so tenderly flows; That could my sad soul taste of pleasure, Thy music would soften its woes. But ah, gentle soother, where anguish Takes root in the grief-stricken heart; ‘Tis the triumph of sorrow to languish, ‘Tis rapture to cherish the smart. The mind where pale Mis’ry sits […]...
- 255. Verses to Miss Cruickshank BEAUTEOUS Rosebud, young and gay, Blooming in thy early May, Never may’st thou, lovely flower, Chilly shrink in sleety shower! Never Boreas’ hoary path, Never Eurus’ pois’nous breath, Never baleful stellar lights, Taint thee with untimely blights! Never, never reptile thief Riot on thy virgin leaf! Nor even Sol too fiercely view Thy bosom blushing […]...
- Life's Harmonies Let no man pray that he know not sorrow, Let no soul ask to be free from pain, For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow, And the moment’s loss is the lifetime’s gain. Through want of a thing does its worth redouble, Through hunger’s pangs does the feast content, And only the […]...
- 540. Inscription to Chloris ‘TIS Friendship’s pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, Must bid the world adieu, (A world ‘gainst Peace in constant arms) To join the Friendly Few. Since, thy gay morn of life o’ercast, Chill came the […]...
- Miss Lloyd has now went to Miss Green Miss Lloyd has now sent to Miss Green, As, on opening the box, may be seen, Some years of a Black Ploughman’s Gauze, To be made up directly, because Miss Lloyd must in mourning appear For the death of a Relative dear Miss Lloyd must expect to receive This license to mourn and to grieve, […]...
- The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury ‘twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me In whatsoever Presence makes Till for a further Food I scarcely recollect to starve So first am I supplied The Luxury to meditate The Luxury it was To banguet on thy Countenance A Sumptuousness bestows On […]...
- Inscription 01 – For A Tablet At Godstow Nunnery Here Stranger rest thee! from the neighbouring towers Of Oxford, haply thou hast forced thy bark Up this strong stream, whose broken waters here Send pleasant murmurs to the listening sense: Rest thee beneath this hazel; its green boughs Afford a grateful shade, and to the eye Fair is its fruit: Stranger! the seemly fruit […]...
- Sonnet to the Memory of Miss Maria Linley So bends beneath the storm yon balmy flow’r, Whose spicy blossoms once perfum’d the gale; So press’d with tears reclines yon lily pale, Obedient to the rude and beating show’r. Still is the LARK, that hov’ring o’er yon spray, With jocund carol usher’d in the morn; And mute the NIGHTINGALE, whose tender lay Melted the […]...
- Gentle Gaoler Being a gaoler I’m supposed To be a hard-boiled guy; Yet never prison walls enclosed A kinder soul than I: Passing my charges precious pills To end their ills. And if in gentle sleep they die, And pass to pleasant peace, No one suspects that it is I Who gave them their release: No matter […]...
- To Mæcenas Mæcenas, you, beneath the myrtle shade, Read o’er what poets sung, and shepherds play’d. What felt those poets but you feel the same? Does not your soul possess the sacred flame? Their noble strains your equal genius shares In softer language, and diviner airs. While Homer paints, lo! circumfus’d in air, Celestial Gods in mortal […]...
- Inscription for the Ceiling of a Bedroom Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there, Weep and laugh and sweat and swear, Hear a song, or watch a stage, Leave some words upon a page, Claim a foe, or hail […]...
- Inscription 04 – For The Apartment In Chepstow-Castle For thirty years secluded from mankind, Here Marten linger’d. Often have these walls Echoed his footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison: not to him Did Nature’s fair varieties exist; He never saw the Sun’s delightful beams, Save when thro’ yon high bars it pour’d a sad And broken splendor. Dost thou […]...
- The Kiss Returned AS WILLIAM walking with his wife was seen, A man of rank admired her lovely mien. Who gave you such a charming fair? he cried, May I presume to kiss your beauteous bride? With all my heart, replied the humble swain, You’re welcome, sir: I beg you’ll not refrain; She’s at your service: take the […]...
- Music At The Villa Marina FOR some abiding central source of power, Strong-smitten steady chords, ye seem to flow And, flowing, carry virtue. Far below, The vain tumultuous passions of the hour Fleet fast and disappear; and as the sun Shines on the wake of tempests, there is cast O’er all the shattered ruins of my past A strong contentment […]...
- Inscription 05 – For A Monument At Silbury-Hill This mound in some remote and dateless day Rear’d o’er a Chieftain of the Age of Hills, May here detain thee Traveller! from thy road Not idly lingering. In his narrow house Some Warrior sleeps below: his gallant deeds Haply at many a solemn festival The Bard has harp’d, but perish’d is the song Of […]...
- To try to speak, and miss the way To try to speak, and miss the way And ask it of the Tears, Is Gratitude’s sweet poverty, The Tatters that he wears A better Coat if he possessed Would help him to conceal, Not subjugate, the Mutineer Whose title is “the Soul.”...
- 156. Verses inscribed under a Noble Earl's Picture WHOSE 1 is that noble, dauntless brow? And whose that eye of fire? And whose that generous princely mien, E’en rooted foes admire? Stranger! to justly show that brow, And mark that eye of fire, Would take His hand, whose vernal tints His other works admire. Bright as a cloudless summer sun, With stately port […]...
- 148. To Miss Logan, with Beattie's Poems AGAIN the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driven, And you, tho’ scarce in maiden prime, Are so much nearer Heaven. No gifts have I from Indian coasts The infant year to hail; I send you more than India boasts, In Edwin’s simple tale. Our sex with guile, and faithless love, Is charg’d, […]...
- 312. Elegy on the late Miss Burnet of Monboddo LIFE ne’er exulted in so rich a prize, As Burnet, lovely from her native skies; Nor envious death so triumph’d in a blow, As that which laid th’ accomplish’d Burnet low. Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget? In richest ore the brightest jewel set! In thee, high Heaven above was truest shown, […]...
- 425. Song-Had I a cave HAD I a cave on some wild distant shore, Where the winds howl to the wave’s dashing roar: There would I weep my woes, There seek my lost repose, Till grief my eyes should close, Ne’er to wake more! Falsest of womankind, can’st thou declare All thy fond, plighted vows fleeting as air! To thy […]...
- 440. Address spoken by Miss Fontenelle STILL anxious to secure your partial favour, And not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever, A Prologue, Epilogue, or some such matter, ‘Twould vamp my bill, said I, if nothing better; So sought a poet, roosted near the skies, Told him I came to feast my curious eyes; Said, nothing like his works was […]...
- An Hymn To The Morning ATTEND my lays, ye ever honour’d nine, Assist my labours, and my strains refine; In smoothest numbers pour the notes along, For bright Aurora now demands my song. Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies, Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies: The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays, On ev’ry leaf the […]...
- The Student's Serenade I have slept upon my couch, But my spirit did not rest, For the labours of the day Yet my weary soul opprest; And, before my dreaming eyes Still the learned volumes lay, And I could not close their leaves, And I could not turn away. But I oped my eyes at last, And I […]...
- Inscription 03 – For A Cavern That Overlooks The River Avon Enter this cavern Stranger! the ascent Is long and steep and toilsome; here awhile Thou mayest repose thee, from the noontide heat O’ercanopied by this arch’d rock that strikes A grateful coolness: clasping its rough arms Round the rude portal, the old ivy hangs Its dark green branches down, and the wild Bees, O’er its […]...
- The Origin of the Harp Tis believed that this Harp, which I wake now for thee Was a Siren of old, who sung under the sea; And who often, at eve, through the bright waters roved, To meet, on the green shore, a youth whom she loved. But she loved him in vain, for he left her to weep, And […]...
- 386. The Rights of Women-Spoken by Miss Fontenelle WHILE Europe’s eye is fix’d on mighty things, The fate of Empires and the fall of Kings; While quacks of State must each produce his plan, And even children lisp the Rights of Man; Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention, The Rights of Woman merit some attention. First, in the Sexes’ intermix’d connection, […]...
- Stanzas To Jessy There is a mystic thread of life So dearly wreath’d with mine alone, That Destiny’s relentless knife At once must sever both, or none. There is a Form on which these eyes Have fondly gazed with such delight – By day, that Form their joy supplies, And Dreams restore it, through the night. There is […]...
- Magrady Graham Tell me, was Altgeld elected Governor? For when the returns began to come in And Cleveland was sweeping the East, It was too much for you, poor old heart, Who had striven for democracy In the long, long years of defeat. And like a watch that is worn I felt you growing slower until you […]...
Visor'd »