The Traveller's Return (1)/Farfam'd Rab Burns

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A NEW SONG

IN PRAISE OF BURNS.

Lang fam’d Rab Burns ilk lassie mourns,
⁠Aye since he’s gane awa’,
His presence did a’ grief forbid,
⁠He cheer’d the lasses a-.
Nae mair he’ll chant—wi’ neighbours rant,
⁠O’er flowing bowls at e’en,
Awa’ he’s gane to his lang hame.
⁠And left his Bonny'Jean.

His memory dear will still its cheer,
⁠I’ll sing the praise of Burns,
Ilk laddie here and lassie dear,
⁠Must mingle with the worms.
Uncertain man’s life’s but a span,
⁠How oftimes we’ve seen
The fairest flower in Nature’s bower
⁠Kill’d in the bud when green.

You nymphs and swains amang the plains.
⁠And birds in ilka tree.
Ye meadows green and fairy queen,
⁠And sailors on the sea,
Loud blaw the fame o’ him that’s gane,
⁠Reside the lads in urns,
Brave Scotia’s boys will still rejoice
⁠To hear the name o’ Burns.

Frae morn till night my head grows light
⁠To hear the lasses sing,
His bonnie sang that nane can bang.
⁠It gars my lugs a’ ring;
Its bonnie air can banish care
⁠By ingle side at e’en;
Now cauld’s the heart that ance did smart
⁠Frae twa bewitching een.