Alloway
Ayr
Scotland's best-loved poet, Robert Bums, the son of a poor farmer, was
born here on January 25th,
1759- Some of his imagery was drawn from a hard-won
classical education, but most was inspired by his
knowledge of the countryside, and of
the
ways and legends of country people.
Since his death in 1796 his reputation as a
freethinker, drinker and womanizer has turned the poet himself into a
legend.
The cottage in Alloway
where Burns was born is preserved as a Bums museum, the
poet's father built it with his own hands. It was
in Kirk of Alloway that the farmer Tam O'
Shanter, in Burns poem, saw witches and wizards
dancing to the Devils bagpipes.
Although Burns was seen with
Edinburgh based literary celebrities of his day, he never abandoned
his roots in the west and continued to work
as a small farmer, and later as an excise man.
Like many great
artists, he was never fully appreciated until well
after his death, but now there are hundreds
of Burns Societies all over the world, each year celebrating the
poet's birthday with such well' known
favorites as To a Haggis. Willie's Prayer and probably his best-
known work, Auld Lang Syne
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Old Long Past
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Chorus.
And for old long past, my joy,
For old long past,
We will take a cup of kindness yet,
For old long past,
-
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And days of old long past.
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And surely you will pay for your pint-vessel!
And surely I will pay for mine!
And we will take a cup of kindness yet,
For old long past.
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We two have run about the hillsides
And pulled the wild daisies fine;
But we have wandered many a weary foot
Since old long past.
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We two have paddled in the stream,
From morning sun till noon;
But seas between us broad have roared
Since old long past.
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And there is a hand, my trusty friend!
And give me a hand of yours!
And we will take a right good-will drink,
For old long past.
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- Auld Lang Syne
- Chorus.
And for auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne,
- Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o' auld lang syne.
- And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
- We twa hae run about the braes
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot
Sin auld lang syne.
- We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,
Frae mornin' sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin auld lang syne.
- And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right guid willy waught,
For auld lang syne.
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Robert Burns, Scotland's National Poet, came to live
in Dumfries towards the end of 1791 after giving up the tenancy of
Ellisland Farm which was situated some six miles outside the town. His
first abode in the town comprised three small rooms on the second floor
of a building on the north side of what is now Bank Street. Then he
moved to a self-contained house in Mill Street where he died in July,
1796, at the age of 37 years. During his sojourn in Dumfries whilst
being employed as an Excise Officer he wrote fully one hundred songs.
His body is interred in a mausoleum in St Michael's Churchyard,
Dumfries. His widow, Jean, lived on in the house in Mill Street (now
known as Burns Street) till her death 38 years later in 1834
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