ET. 34.]

THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN.

31

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' intermixed connection,
One sacred Right of Woman is Protection.
The tender flower that lifts its head elate,
Helpless must fall before the blasts of fate,
Sunk on the earth, defaced its lovely form,
Unless your shelter ward the impending storm.

Our second Right — but needless here is caution;
To keep that right inviolate's the fashion;
Each man of sense has it so full before him,
He'd die before he'd wrong it 'tis Decorum.
There was, indeed, in far less polished days,
A time when rough rude man had naughty

ways;

Would swagger, swear, get drunk, kick up a riot,

Nay, even thus invade a lady's quiet.

Now, thank our stars! these Gothic times are

Most justly think (and we are much the gainers) Such conduct neither spirit, wit, nor manners.'

1 An ironical allusion to the annual saturnalia of the Caledonian Hunt at Dumfries.

For Right the third, our last, our best, our dearest,

That right to fluttering female hearts the nearest,

Which even the Rights of Kings in low pros

tration

Most humbly own 'tis dear, dear Admiration! In that blest sphere alone we live and move; There taste that life of life immortal love.

Smiles, glances, sighs, tears, fits, flirtations, airs, 'Gainst such an host what flinty savage dares When awful Beauty joins with all her charms, Who is so rash as rise in rebel arms?

But truce with kings and truce with constitutions,

With bloody armaments and revolutions:
Let majesty your first attention summon,
Ah! ça ira! THE MAJESTY OF WOMAN!

EXTEMPORE ON SOME COMMEMORATIONS OF THOMSON.

There can be no doubt that Burns here had in view the same affair which he had treated in so conceding a style in September of the preceding

ÆT. 34.] TO THE SHADE OF THOMSON.

33

year. In the interval, he had come to see it in its true light. (See p. 286 of vol. ii.)

DOST thou not rise, indignant shade,

And smile wi' spurning scorn,

When they wha wad hae starved thy life,

Thy senseless turf adorn!

Helpless, alane, thou clamb the brae,

Wi mickle, mickle toil,

And claught th' unfading garland there, clutched Thy sair-won, rightful spoil.

And wear it there! and call aloud

This axiom undoubted

Would thou hae nobles' patronage, "First learn to live without it!"

To whom hae much, shall yet be given,
Is every great man's faith;

But he the helpless, needless wretch,
Shall lose the mite he hath.

VOL. III.

TO MISS FONTENELLE, ON SEEING HER IN A FAVOURITE CHARACTER.

SWEET naïveté of feature,

Simple, wild, enchanting elf,
Not to thee, but thanks to Nature,
Thou art acting but thyself.

Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected,
Spurning nature, torturing art,
Loves and graces all rejected,
Then indeed thou'dst act a part.

THE LEA-RIG.

TUNE-The Lea-Rig.

"On reading over The Lea-Rig, I immediately set about trying my hand on it; and after all, I could make nothing more of it than the following, which, Heaven knows, is poor enough."— Burns to Mr. Thomson.

WHEN o'er the hill the eastern star

Tells bughtin'-time is near, my jo; ewe-milking

And owsen frae the furrowed field
Return sae dowf and weary 0;

35

spent

1

Down by the burn, where scented birks
Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo, joy, darling
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,

My ain kind dearie O.

In mirkest glen, at midnight hour,
I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie O,

If through that glen I gaed to thee,

My ain kind dearie O.

grassy ridge

darkest

frightened

Although the night were ne'er sae wild,
And I were ne'er sae weary O,

I'd meet thee on the lea-rig,

My ain kind dearie O.

The hunter lo'es the morning sun,
To rouse the mountain deer, my jo;
At noon the fisher seeks the glen,

Along the burn to steer, my jo;
Gie me the hour o'gloamin' gray,
It maks my heart sae cheery O,
To meet thee on the lea-rig, ·
My ain kind dearie O.

twilight

December 1st, 1792.

1 For "scented birks," in some copies "birken buds."