Chapter 312
CCCXII. To Mr. Thomson
[The song of Caledonia, in honour of Mrs. Burns, was accompanied by two others in honour of the poet’s mistress: the muse was high in song, and used few words in the letter which enclosed them.]
May, 1795.
O stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay!
Let me know, your very first leisure, how you like this song.
Long, long the night.
How do you like the foregoing? The Irish air, “Humours of Glen,” is a great favourite of mine, and as, except the silly stuff in the “Poor Soldier,” there are not any decent verses for it, I have written for it as follows:—
Their groves o’ sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon.
Let me hear from you.
R. B.