The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1872-01-18
The BlstoFy Ofa Saas

hnAlcNcE GluGLtue6e OF ODIQioI
may exist among critics in regard tC
the extent and peculiar chsracterist
les OF Burns genius, there can be nC
disagreement, we think, on one point
he stands at the very front Of song
writers. No poet of any era or in any
language has produced melodies oi
sUeh exquisite tenderness, and thai
appeal so eloquently TO the strongest
and deepest emotions of the human
heart. Others have penned lines
more artistic, more carefully elabO-
Z rated, more classic, perhaps, but the
/ melodies Of Burns are as fresh and
vigorous as the bright mountain
streams whose waters leap and laugh
/ among the gems of that grand old
I land where he was born. There is the
smell of the heather in them, and vet,
although full of nationality, clothed,
( for the most part in the Scotch dia-
lect, and breathing the hopes and
2 sympathies of his, eOuntrymen in
every verse, they are, at the same
time, so closely allied to the universal
/ soul OF our common humanity, that
the world has adopted them, and fix
ed their place among those rare erea-
tions which belong not alone to one
nation or age, but to all mankind
throughout, all generations. These
songs are as popular to-day on the
borders of the Mississippi as on. the
banks of the Tweed, and they are
sung on every sea and shore where
the Anglo-Saxon race has penetrated.
I The humble peasant who was mildly
patroniZed and then allowed to starve
By the appreciative EterdH of Edin-
burgh, has filled the earth with his
fame; and if Scotland were buried to-
morrow thousand fathoms deep in
the oceans bosom, the name of Rob
ert Burns alone would rescue her
from oblivion, and his poetry would
secure for her q heritage Of glory.
The stanzas commencing as follows
have had high praise:
Ae fond kiss and then we sever,
Ae farewell, alas forever;
Had we never loved 50 kindly,
Had We never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been brOken-heaTted.
Walter Scott said that they "con-
tain q thousand love tales" " and the
four concluding lines we have quoted,
Byron selected for the motto Of his
"BTide Of Abydos.n
But we have always thought that
the song whose history We are about
to write surpasses this In pOetical mer-
it, as well as In that indescribable
'pathOs which, after all, is the greatest
charm Of such compositions.
Three months before Burns death,
and when the disease which finally
laid him in his grave had already fast
ened upon him, a young lady named
Jessie LeWars, who resided In the
same town, paid many visits to the
distressed household, and did ali In
her power to alleviate the suferings
and the poverty of the unfortunate
family.
These acts of unselfsh kindness
were gratefully appreciated by poor
Burns, and having nothing else to
give this fair angel of charity, he gave
her immortality. Miss LeWRrs re-
lates that one morning she received q
call from the poet, and after some
coversation he told her that If she
would play him her favOrite tune he
would write new verses for it. She
sat down at the piano and played over
several times . quaint old air, the
opening words of which are these:
"The robin cam to the wren's ne-,r.
And keekiL in, and keekit In:
o Wae's me on your auld pow;
Wad ye be In, wad ye be ins
Ge'Se ne'er got lief to lie without
And within, and Within
As long as hne an auld clOut
To row yein, to row ye IN"
Burns listened attentively for few
minutes, and then dashed off the fol-
lowing:
D vert thou in the cau1d blast,
On yOnder lea, on yOnder lea;
My plaidie TO the angry ART
I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee.
Or did mtsfortune's bitter storms
Around thee blaW, around thee blaw,
Thy bteld should be my bosom
10 share it a, TO share Il a..
o were in-the widest waste.
Sac bleakland bare, sac bleak aud bare,
The desert were a paradise,
II thou vert there, if thou vert theFa.
Or were monarch Of the globe,
With thee 70 reign, with thee,tO reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown,
Wad be my queen, ,sWad be my queen
Years and years afterward, when
the grass was growing over Burns,
and Jessie Lewars was spending a
quiet widOwhood in MaxweltoWn,
these words caught the eye of that
inspired composer, Felix Mendelssohn,
and he arranged for them an air Of
such simple and touching beauty that,
once heard, 1t can never be forgotten.
So the utterances Of the poet, Wrung,
as 1t were, out of the (agOny of those
closing days Of a wretched life, are
married to divine music.