Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
312 . Elegy on the late Miss Burnet of Monboddo
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As Burnet, lovely from her native skies;
Nor envious death so triumph’d in a blow,
As that which laid th’ accomplish’d Burnet low.
In richest ore the brightest jewel set! In thee, high Heaven above was truest shown, As by His noblest work the Godhead best is known. Thou crystal streamlet with thy flowery shore, Ye woodland choir that chaunt your idle loves, Ye cease to charm; Eliza is no more. Ye mossy streams, with sedge and rushes stor’d: Ye rugged cliffs, o’erhanging dreary glens, To you I fly—ye with my soul accord. Shall venal lays their pompous exit hail, And thou, sweet Excellence! forsake our earth, And not a Muse with honest grief bewail? And Virtue’s light, that beams beyond the spheres; But, like the sun eclips’d at morning tide, Thou left us darkling in a world of tears. That heart how sunk, a prey to grief and care; So deckt the woodbine sweet yon aged tree; So, from it ravish’d, leaves it bleak and bare.