ROBERT BURNS.

Colonist, Volume LV, Issue 13587, 30 November 1912, Page 2

ROBERT BURNS.

AN UNPUBLISHED POEM.

It is seldom in these days (says the "Dundee Courier") that a hitherto unpublished poem of the groat poet comes to light, but Mrs John Moffat, St. Andrew's is the happy pos&essor of such. The poem below was copied by Mr Moffatt's grandfather, the late Mr. Edward Sanderson, well nigh one hundred years ago. The verses ere prefaced with the following words: —"Composed by Robert Burns, and presented to the noble man addressed, upon bo ing called up from the servants' hall (where he had been sent to dine along with them) to add to the- entertainment of his company, along with which he had been asked to go on an excursion to the Bass Rock." On presenting the poem, he put on hi..-, hat, turned on his heel, and retired. I came this night to join your feast Fill your chair, my lord! 1 would not, Tho' ye ba proudest noble's heir. 1 came this night to join your feast As equal of the best, at least. - 'Tis truo that cash with me is scant And title trifles that I want; The King has never made me kneel To stamp my manhood with his seal. But what of that? Tho King on High, Who took less pains with you and I, Has filled my bosom and my mind With something better in its kind Than your broad acres, something which I cannot well translate to speech, But by its impulse ! can know, 'Tis deeds not birth that makes man low. lour rank my lord, is but a. loan, But mine, thank heaven is all my own. A peasant 'tis my pride to be: Look round and round your Hall and see Who boasts a higher pedigree. I was not fit, it seems, to dine With these fox-hunting heroes fine, But only came to play a jest Among your lordship's hopeful guests. There must be here some sad mistake; I would not play for such a stake, Be a buffoon for drink and meat I And a poor earl's tax paid seat; No, die my heart ere such a stain Descends on Robert Burns' mime.