Robert Burns

“ To the noble Duke of Athole
My lord, I know your noble ear
Woe ne'er assails in vain;
Embolden'd thus, I beg you'll hear
Your humble slave complain,
How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams,
In flaming summer-pride,
Dry-withering, waste my foamy streams,
And drink my crystal tide.^1
The lightly-jumping, glowrin' trouts,
That thro' my waters play,
If, in their random, wanton spouts,
They near the margin stray;
If, hapless chance! they linger lang,
I'm scorching up so shallow,
They're left the whitening stanes amang,
In gasping death to wallow. ”

“ Or find a shelt'ring, safe retreat,
From prone-descending show'rs.
And here, by sweet, endearing stealth,
Shall meet the loving pair,
Despising worlds, with all their wealth,
As empty idle care ”

“ The grace be-"Athole's honest men,
And Athole's bonie lasses!
1787 [Footnote 1: Bruar Falls, in Athole, are exceedingly picturesque and beautiful; but their effect is much impaired by the want of trees and shrubs. - R.B.]
This work was published before January 1, 1928, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. ”