BY (REV.) JOSEPH C. BOOTH.
True bard of nature, pride of bonny Ayr;
Loved literary idol of the far-
Famed North, fair Caledonia; thy star
'Midst Gaelic constellations none compare,
The fires of Wallace, Bruce and Knox did e'er
Within thy bosom blaze; love did unbar
Thy soul, thy heart set singing songs of war,
Peace, sadness, joy and mirth—thou debonair!
Thou wouldst have rivaled Shakespeare, Milton, Gray;
White, Chatterton and Keats surpassed, but fate
Forbade and checked thy muse-lit tongue of flame.
Poor Bobby Burns, hard was his lot, though gay—
In life, cold poverty, the bard's estate;
In death, the glory of immortal fame.
Troy Times. January 26, 1914: 7 col 1.