Chapter 933 of 1414 · 74 words · ~1 min read

CCIX.

THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER.

Tune--"_Fee him, father._"

["I do not give these verses," says Burns to Thomson, "for any merit they have. I composed them at the time in which 'Patie Allan's mither died, about the back o' midnight,' and by the lee side of a bowl of punch, which had overset every mortal in company, except the hautbois and the muse." To the poet's intercourse with musicians we owe some fine songs.]