The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1885-01-29
CELEBRATING BURNS.

On Monday last the 10th anniversa-
ry of the birth of Robt. Burns was Gel
ebrated throughout the English.speak-
ing world. This can he said of no 9TH
er poet. Mighty rs are Homer, and
Shakespeare and Goethe, and dear to
the human heart us are scores Of other
poets whom the world cannot willingly
let die, to Burns alone belongs the hon.
or Of having his birthday pnnctually
and devotedly celebrated in every city
Of any Importance where the English
language is spoken.
This is because Burns is the poet of
the human heart just as it is, the ev.
ery-day, beating, struggling, loving,
hating, natural human heart. lie
sung the human being just as he il,
good and bad, weak and strong, hoping
and despairing, up and down. No 9TH
er poet ever did it so truly and so
bravely, so honestly or so sweetly.
In connection with this celebration
we give below poem of Whttier's
written For the Centennial Celebration
in 1859. We set this from the original
manuscript which we obtained at the
National Era office in Washington
City, after putting it in type for that
sterling anti slavery sheet.
The poem was evidently written out
by an amanuensis, but Whittier ap-
ponds a brief note to DR.. Bailey, the
editor. written in his own Clean and
fine chirography, in which he says:
Iregret to hear by Edward Spencer
of thy i'll health. and hope it is but tenn.
porary. think thee will like this little
lyrical affair which send thee. 1t pleas
es me better than most Of my pieces.
Let it appear next week.
Goth 1st mo. 1859. J. G.. w.
Following is the poem 70 which he
alludes, the original manuscript of
which is in our possession and which
we prize highly:
[For the National Era.l
LINES
For the Centennial Celebration of the
| Birthday of Robert Burns,
| loCn ISL MOntn, 1909.
How swcetly come the holy psalms
From saints and martyrs down.
The waving of triumphal palms
| Above the thorny crown!
| The choral praise the chants and prayers,
OF harps by angels strung,
| The hunted CamerOns mountain air,
The hymns that Luther sung!
Yet, Earring not the heavenly notes
The sounds of earth are heard,
As through the open minister floats
The song Of breeze and bird.
Not less the wonder of the sky
That daisies bloom below:
The brook sings on, though loud and high
The clou ~ organs blow!
And, II the tender ear be Jared
That, haply, hears by turns
The sanity harp of Olney's bard,
The pastoral pipe of Burns,
No discord mars His perfect plan
Who gave them both tongue;
For he who sings the love of man
, The love Of God hath sung?
To day be every fault forgiven
OF him in whom we Joy:
We take. with thanks, the gold Of heaven
And leave the earth's alloy.
Be ours his music as of spring,
His sweetness as of flowers,
The songs the bard himself might sing
: In holier ears than ours!
Sweet airs of love and home, the hum
OF fancy's laden bees
Come singing as the robins come
To sing in door yard trees.
, And, heart to heart, two nations lean
No rival wreaths to twine,
But bending in eternal green
The holly and the pine!
B J.G w.
The first stanza of the above poem
written on a slip of paper and paste
g ION the full sheet. Under this sliI