"MY BURNS IS GANE."

Otago Witness, Issue 1581, 4 March 1882, Page 25

"MY BURNS IS GANE."

[The following lines have been forwarded to us for publication from a correspondent at Mosgiel, who states that he received them orally from an octogenarian who believed they never appeared in print :— ]

My Burns is gane, I'm left my lane ; My dearest spouse no more Shall bless my arms, And praise my charms, And tell them o'er and o'er. ' We baith confessed We baith were blest, But, 0, transported scene, Too soon you're fled, My Burns is dead, And I'm nae mair his Jean. On simmer days When o'er the braes, The gentle breezes blaw, The hills would ring To hear him sing, My Jeanie dings them a ; Naa lover's lasa That over was, Or the maist happy quean, That e!er sat on A royal throne, . Was half so blest as Jean. How often he Wi' sang in glee, t Has charmed my ravished ear, , And made to glow ■ The check that now Sustains the gushing tear. ; When by my side, My Burns, my pride, Would Bit him down at c'en ; How few could vie Wi' me, for I Was then Mb happy Jean. Nae man alive, Need ever strive To gild my bosom's gloom ; Na ! na 1 1 swear He breathes not air Shall fill my Robin's room, Wha's pen could paint Each lovely tint . That decks the flowery green ; Wha's hand could twine The laurel fine. And dress it on his Jean. What raptures through This bosom flew The day he first was mine ; What joy possessed This panting breast, Now left by him behind! But why eomplaln— Departed swain, 1 A few short months between, „ And then I'll come , And share thy tomb, And be'again your Jean.