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To Mrs
Frances Anna Dunlop of Dunlop
Castle
Douglas, 25th June 1794
Here in a solitary inn, in a solitary village, am I set by myself, to
amuse my brooding fancy as I may.-Solitary confinement, you know, is
Howard's favorite idea of reclaiming sinners; so let me consider
by what fatality it happens that I have so long been exceeding sinful
as to neglect the correspondence of the most valued Friend I have on
earth.-To tell you that I have been in poor health, will not be excuse
enough , though it is true.-I am afraid that I am about to suffer for
the follies of my youth.-My Medical friends threaten me with a flying
gout; but I trust they are mistaken.-
I am just going to trouble your critical patience with the first sketch
of a stanza I have been framing as I passed along the road.-The Subject
is, LIBERTY: you know, my honored Friend, how dear the theme is
to me. I design it as an irregular Ode for General Washington's
birth-day.-After having mentioned the degeneracy of other kingdoms I
come to Scotland thus-
Thee, Caledonia, thy wild heaths among,
Thee, famed for martial deed & sacred Song,.
To thee I turn with swimming eyes;
Where is that soul of Freedom fled/
Immingled with the mighty Dead,
Beneath the hallowed turf where WALLACE lies!
Hear it not, WALLACE, in thy bed of death!
Ye babbling winds, in silence sweep;
Disturb ye not the hero's sleep,
Nor give the coward secret breath
Is this the Power in freedom's war
That wont to bid the battle rage?
Behold that eye which shot immortal hate,
Crushing the despot's proudest bearing,.
That arm which, nerved with thundering fate,
Braved Usurpation's boldest daring
One quenched in darkness like the sinking star,
And one the palsied arm of tottering, powerless Age.-
You will probably have another scrawl from me in a stage or two.-
Yours ever most gratefully
Robt Burns
Letter
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