LET other heroes boast their scars,
The marks of sturt and strife:
And other poets sing of wars,
The plagues of human life:
Shame fa the fun, wi sword and gun
To slap mankind like lumber!
I sing his name, and nobler fame,
Wha multiplies our number.
Great Nature spoke, with air benign,
Go on, ye human race;
This lower world I you resign;
Be fruitful and increase.
The liquid fire of strong desire
Ive pourd it in each bosom;
Here, on this had, does Mankind stand,
And there is Beautys blossom.
The Hero of these artless strains,
A lowly bard was he,
Who sung his rhymes in Coilas plains,
With meikle mirth anglee;
Kind Natures care had given his share
Large, of the flaming current;
And, all devout, he never sought
To stem the sacred torrent.
He felt the powerful, high behest
Thrill, vital, thro and thro;
And sought a correspondent breast,
To give obedience due:
Propitious Powers screend the young flowrs,
From mildews of abortion;
And low! the barda great reward
Has got a double portion!
Auld cantie Coil may count the day,
As annual it returns,
The third of Libras equal sway,
That gave another Burns,
With future rhymes, an other times,
To emulate his sire:
To sing auld Coil in nobler style
With more poetic fire.
Ye Powers of peace, and peaceful song,
Look down with gracious eyes;
And bless auld Coila, large and long,
With multiplying joys;
Lang may she stand to prop the land,
The flowr of ancient nations;
And Burnses spring, her fame to sing,
To endless generations!
