Eggplant.place

112d

Celestial Tea!—A fountain that can cure
The ills of passion, and can free the fair
From frowns and sighs, by Disappointment earn’d…

—For International Tea Day: Robert Fergusson’s (1750–1774) “Tea. A Poem” takes a less than enthusiastic approach to the beverage

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #18thcentury #RobertFergusson #tea #InternationalTeaDay

Robert Fergusson
TEA. A Poem

Ye maidens modest! on whose sullen brows
Hath weaning Chastity her wrinkles cull’d,
Who constant labour o’er consumptive oil,
At midnight knell, to wash sleep’s nightly balm
From closing eye-lids, with the grateful drops
Of Tea’s blest juices; list th’ obsequious lays
That come not with Parnassian honours crown’d,
To dwell in murmurs o’er your sleepy sense;
But fresh from Orient blown to chace far off
Your lethargy, that dormant needles rous’d
May pierce the waving Mantua’s silken folds:
For many a dame in chamber sadly pent,
Hath this reviving limpid call’d to life;
And well it did, to mitigate the frowns
Of anger reddening on Lucinda’s brow,
With flash malignant, that had harbour’d there,
If she at masquerade, or play, or ball,
Appear’d not in her newest, best attire.
But Venus, goddess of th’ eternal smile,
Knowing that stormy brows but ill become
Fair patterns of her beauty, hath ordain’d

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33d

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize…

—Allan Ramsay (1686–1758), “The twa Cats & the Cheese”
digitised by the National Library of Scotland

Today, 8 August, is International Cat Day
😾 😾 🧀 🐵

https://digital.nls.uk/special-collections-of-printed-music/archive/105690319

#Scottish #literature #poem #Scots #Scotslanguage #poem #poetry #18thcentury #fable #humor #humour #cats #InternationalCatDay

The twa Cats and the Cheese
Fable IX
by Allan Ramsay

Twa Cats anes on a Cheese did light,
To which baith had an equal Right,
But Disputes, sic as aft arise,
Fell out at sharing of the Prize;
Fair Play said ane, Ye bite o’er thick
Thae Teeth of yours gang wonder quick:
Let’s part it, else lang or the Moon
Be chang’d, the Kebuck will be done.

ALT

But wha’s to do’t,—They’re Parties baith,
And ane may do the other Skaith,
Sae with Consent away they trudge,
And laid the Cheese before a Judge,
A Monkey with a campsho Face,
Clerk to a Justice of the Peace,
A Judge he seem’d in Justice skill’d,
When he his Master’s Chair fill’d;
Now Umpire chosen for Division,
Baith sware to stand by his Decision.
Demure he looks.—The Cheese he pales,—
He prives it good,—Ca’s for the Scales,
His Knife whops throw’t,—In twa it fell,
He puts ilk Haff in either Shell;
Said he, We’ll truly weigh the Case,
And strickest Justice shall have Place,
Then lifting up the Scales, he fand
The tane bang up, the ither stand;
Syne out he took the heaviest Haff,
And ate a Knoost o’t quickly aff,
And try’d it syne,—It now prov’d light,
Friend Cats, said he, We’ll do ye right.
Then to the ither Haff he fell,
And laid till’t teughly Tooth and Nail,
Till weigh’d again it lightest prov’d:
The Judge wha this sweet Process lov’d,
Still weigh’d the Case, and still ate on,
Till Clients baith were weary grown,

ALT

And tenting how the Matter went,
Cry’d, Come, come Sir, We’re baith content.
Ye Fools, quoth he, and Justice too
Maun be content as well as you.
Thus grumbled they, thus he went on,
Till baith the Haves were near hand done;
Poor Pousies now the Daffine saw
Of gawn for Nignyes to the Law:
And bill’d the Judge that he wad please
To give them the remaining Cheese:
To which his Worship grave reply’d,
The Dues of Court maun first be paid.
Now Justice pleas’d,—What’s to the Fore
Will but right scrimply clear your Score;
That’s our Decreet,—Gae Hame and Sleep,
And thank us ye’re win aff sae cheap.

ALT

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78d

#OTD, 24 June, in 1314, the Scottish army under King Robert I destroyed a much larger English invasion force at Bannockburn, in one of the most decisive battles in medieval history. In 1793 Robert Burns composed “Scots Wha Hae”, originally entitled “Robert Bruce’s March To Bannockburn”

⚔️🧵

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#Scottish #literature #Bannockburn #BattleofBannockburn #14thcentury #medieval #history #18thcentury #RobertBurns #poem #poetry #song

Poem: "Scots Wha Hae", by Robert Burns

(tune: Hey, Tutti Tatie)

Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed‍‍
‍‍Or to victorie!

Now’s the day, and now’s the hour:
See the front o’ battle lour,
See approach proud Edward’s power— ‍‍
‍‍Chains and slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward’s grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?—‍‍
‍‍Let him turn, and flee!

Wha for Scotland’s king and law
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand or freeman fa’, ‍‍
‍‍Let him follow me!

By Oppression’s woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins ‍‍
‍‍But they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty’s in every blow!—
‍‍Let us do or die!

ALT

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99d

Robert Tannahill (1774–1810), “the weaver poet”, was born #OTD, 3 June – “second only to Robert Burns as a poet writing chiefly in the language of the working class of Scotland”

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https://www.thenational.scot/culture/24360177.celebrating-scotlands-second-greatest-poet-robert-tannahill/

#Scottish #literature #poetry #18thcentury #19thcentury #Scots #Scotslanguage #workingclass

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73d

The Glenriddell Manuscripts preserve Robert Burns’s own chosen poems & letters, illuminating his creative process. After his death, they went on an extraordinary journey before returning to Scotland. Ralph McLean, manuscripts curator for long 18th century collections at the National Library of Scotland, tells us more

https://www.nls.uk/collections/stories/literature-and-poetry/glenriddell-manuscripts-of-robert-burns/

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #manuscripts #18thcentury #poetry

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92d

Of Mice and Mountain Daisies: Robert Burns & Nature
17 June, Ellisland – tickets by donation

Led by acclaimed authors & historians Neil Baxter & Mary Craig, this special event will examine how Robert Burns experienced nature not simply as an observer, but as a poet whose daily life at Ellisland was shaped by the land, the River Nith & the rhythms of rural life

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/of-mice-and-mountain-daisies-burns-and-nature-workshop-tickets-1990496713252

#Scottish #literature #18thcentury #RobertBurns #poetry #nature #naturepoetry

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91d

Robert Burns & Black Lives
24 June, Alloway – free

Clark McGinn, author & honorary research fellow at the Centre for Robert Burns Studies, examines Burns’s connections to the transatlantic slave trade, highlighting the paradoxes & moral conflicts of the poet’s time

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/highlight-talk-clark-mcginn-on-burns-and-black-lives-tickets-1354716606839

#Scottish #literature #18thcentury #romanticism #RobertBurns #slavery #SlaveryHistory

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90d

Christian Isobel Johnstone (1781–1857) was born #OTD, 12 June. She edited Tait’s Edinburgh Magazine, famous for its liberal stance & incisive literary reviews, & wrote some of the most remarkable Scottish novels of the Romantic era

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https://www.scottishwomenwritersontheweb.net/writers-a-to-z/christian-isobel-johnstone

#Scottish #literature #romanticism #18thcentury #19thcentury #womenwriters

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88d

James Hutton (1726–1797), father of modern geology, was born #OTD, 14 June (NS; 3 June OS). One of the first European proponents of “deep time”, the conclusion of his 1788 paper “Theory of the Earth” has been called one of the most lyrical sentences in all of science:

The result, therefore, of our present enquiry is, that we find no vestige of a beginning,—no prospect of an end.

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https://www.nationalgalleries.org/art-and-artists/2808

#Scottish #literature #Enlightenment #18thcentury #DeepTime #science #geology

A portrait of James Hutton, painted by Sir Henry Raeburn. Oil on canvas, c. 1776. Hutton – a slim, middle-aged man, clean-shaven and with a receding hairline – sits in a plain wooden chair. His left leg is crossed over his right knee, and his hands are interlaced on his lap. He wears a brown eighteenth-century suit, with knee breeches. To his left is a table covered by a green cloth; on the table are piles of papers and a collection of rocks and fossils

ALT

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68d

Burns & the Scottish Enlightenment in America
4 Aug, Robert Burns Ellisland Farm
Tickets by donation

Ian Houston will examine how the ideas that shaped Burns's world – liberty, equality, democracy, & human dignity – also influenced the emerging American republic

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/burns-and-the-scottish-enlightenment-in-america-tickets-1990854549550

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #poetry #Enlightenment #ScottishEnlightenment #18thcentury #America250

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87d

“A Jacobite By Name?”: Jacobitism in the Life & Work of Robert Burns
5 July, Ellisland – £4

Patrick Jamieson explores how ideas of identity, naming & political memory shaped Burns’s engagement with Jacobitism throughout his life & writing

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/a-jacobite-by-name-jacobitism-in-the-life-and-work-of-robert-burns-tickets-1990504417295

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #18thcentury #Jacobites #romanticism #poetry

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58d

Heard ye o’ the tree o’ France,
I watna what’s the name o’t;
Around it a’ the patriots dance,
Weel Europe kens the fame o’t…

—“The Tree of Liberty”, attributed to Robert Burns (disputed). First printed in Chambers’ THE POETICAL WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS (1838)

A poem for 🇫🇷 Bastille Day!

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#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #RobertBurns #BastilleDay #quatorzejuillet #18thcentury #19thcentury

The Tree of Liberty
attributed to Robert Burns

Heard ye o’ the tree o’ France,
I watna what’s the name o’t;
Around it a’ the patriots dance,
Weel Europe kens the fame o’t.
It stands where ance the Bastile stood,
A prison built by kings, man,
When Superstition’s hellish brood
Kept France in leading-strings, man.

Upo’ this tree there grows sic fruit,
Its virtues a’ can tell, man;
It raises man aboon the brute,
It mak’s him ken himsel, man.
Gif ance the peasant taste a bit,
He ’s greater than a lord, man,
An’ wi’ the beggar shares a mite
O’ a’ he can afford, man.

This fruit is worth a’ Afric’s wealth:
To comfort us ’twas sent, man:
To gie the sweetest blush o’ health,
An’ mak us a’ content, man.
It clears the een, it cheers the heart,
Maks high and low gude friends, man;
And he wha acts the traitor’s part,
It to perdition sends, man.

My blessings aye attend the chiel
Wha pitied Gallia’s slaves, man,
And staw a branch, spite o’ the deil,
Frae yont the western waves, man.
Fair Virtue water’d it wi’ care,
And now she sees wi’ pride, man,
How weel it buds and blossoms there,
Its branches spreading wide, man.

But vicious folk aye hate to see
The works o’ Virtue thrive, man;
The courtly vermin’s bann’d the tree,
And grat to see it thrive, man;
King Loui’ thought to cut it down,
When it was unco sma’, man;
For this the watchman crack’d his crown,
Cut aff his head and a’, man.

A wicked crew syne, on a time,
Did tak a solemn aith, man,
It ne’er should flourish to its prime,
I wat they pledged their faith, man.
Awa’ they gaed wi’ mock parade,
Like beagles hunting game, man,
But soon grew weary o’ the trade
And wished they’d been at hame, man.

For Freedom, standing by the tree,
Her sons did loudly ca’, man.
She sang a sang o’ liberty,
Which pleased them ane and a’, man.

ALT

By her inspired, the new-born race
Soon drew the avenging steel, man;
The hirelings ran—her foes gied chase,
And banged the despot weel, man.

Let Britain boast her hardy oak,
Her poplar and her pine, man,
Auld Britain ance could crack her joke,
And o’er her neighbours shine, man.
But seek the forest round and round,
And soon ’twill be agreed, man,
That sic a tree can not be found,
’Twixt London and the Tweed, man.

Without this tree, alake this life
Is but a vale o’ woe, man;
A scene o’ sorrow mixed wi’ strife,
Nae real joys we know, man.
We labour soon, we labour late,
To feed the titled knave, man;
And a’ the comfort we ’re to get,
Is that ayont the grave, man.

Wi’ plenty o’ sic trees, I trow,
The warld would live in peace, man;
The sword would help to mak a plough,
The din o’ war wad cease, man.
Like brethren in a common cause,
We’d on each other smile, man;
And equal rights and equal laws
Wad gladden every isle, man.

Wae worth the loon wha wadna eat
Sic halesome dainty cheer, man;
I’d gie the shoon frae aff my feet,
To taste sic fruit, I swear, man.
Syne let us pray, auld England may
Sure plant this far-famed tree, man;
And blythe we’ll sing, and hail the day
That gives us liberty, man.

ALT

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51d

Is there a whim-inspired fool,
Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,
Let him draw near…

Robert Burns (1759–96) died #OTD, 21 July, aged 37. “A Bard’s Epitaph” is the final poem in the 1786 Kilmarnock Edition of Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect

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#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #Scots #Scotslanguage #RobertBurns #18thcentury #romanticism

A Bard’s Epitaph
Robert Burns

Is there a whim-inspired fool,
Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,
Let him draw near;
And owre this grassy heap sing dool,
And drap a tear.

Is there a bard of rustic song,
Who, noteless, steals the crowds among,
That weekly this area throng,
O, pass not by!
But, with a frater-feeling strong,
Here, heave a sigh.

Is there a man, whose judgment clear
Can others teach the course to steer,
Yet runs, himself, life’s mad career,
Wild as the wave,
Here pause—and, thro’ the starting tear,
Survey this grave.

The poor inhabitant below
Was quick to learn the wise to know,
And keenly felt the friendly glow,
And softer flame;
But thoughtless follies laid him low,
And stain’d his name!

Reader, attend! whether thy soul
Soars fancy’s flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,
In low pursuit:
Know, prudent, cautious, self-control
Is wisdom’s root.

ALT

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50d

CFP: “Politics, Place, & Print Culture”: the 14th International Walter Scott Conference
28–30 June 2027, University of Edinburgh, Scotland

Papers are invited papers on any & all aspects of Scott’s relationship to questions of politics, place & print culture. Deadline 1 Oct 2026

@litstudies

https://llc.ed.ac.uk/english-and-scottish-literature/14th-international-walter-scott-conference

#Scottish #literature #18thcentury #19thcentury #romanticism #bookhistory #WalterScott #SirWalterScott #CallforPapers

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50d

Rare first edition of Burns’s Kilmarnock Edition goes on display at Edinburgh Writers’ Museum

Printed in Kilmarnock & published on 21 July 1786 in a run of just over 600 copies, only around 90 copies are known to survive today & each copy is different

https://www.edinburgh.gov.uk/news/article/14450/rare-first-edition-of-burns-kilmarnock-edition-goes-on-display-at-the-writers-museum

#Scottish #literature #18thcentury #RobertBurns #BookHistory #poetry

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29d

Now westlin winds, and slaught’ring guns
Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather;
And the moorcock springs, on whirring wings,
Amang the blooming heather…

—Robert Burns, “Song, Composed in August”
First published in POEMS, CHIEFLY IN THE SCOTTISH DIALECT (Kilmarnock, 1786)

Pages digitised by the National Library of Scotland

https://digital.nls.uk/poems-chiefly-in-the-scottish-dialect/archive/74464614#?c=0&m=0&s=0&cv=230&xywh=-1574%2C0%2C5647%2C4185

#Scottish #literature #poetry #song #folksong #RobertBurns #18thcentury #nature #environment

SONG
composed in August

Tune, I had a horse, I had nae mair

Now westlin winds, and slaught'ring guns
Bring Autumn's pleasant weather;

ALT

And the moorcock springs on whirring wings
Amang the blooming heather:
Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain,
Delights the weary Farmer;
And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night,
To muse upon my Charmer.

The Partridge loves the fruitful fells,
The Plover loves the mountains;
The Woodcock haunts the lonely dells,
The soaring Hern the fountains:
Thro' lofty groves the Cushat roves,
The path of man to shun it;
The hazel bush o'erhangs the Thrush,
The spreading thorn the Linnet.

Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find,
The savage and the tender;
Some social join, and leagues combine,
Some solitary wander:

ALT

Avaunt, away! the cruel sway!
Tyrannic man's dominion;
The Sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry,
The flutt'ring, gory pinion!

But PEGGY dear, the ev'ning's clear,
Thick flies the skimming Swallow,
The sky is blue, the fields in view,
All fading-green and yellow:
Come let us stray our gladsome way,
And view the charms of Nature;
The rustling corn, the fruited thorn,
And ilka happy creature.

We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,
Till the silent moon shine clearly;
I'll grasp thy waist, and fondly prest,
Swear how I love thee dearly:
Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs,
Not Autumn to the Farmer,
So dear can be, as thou to me,
My fair, my lovely Charmer!

ALT

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29d

Upon his guilded chariot led by hours,
With radiant glories darting throw the air,
The sun, high sprung in his diurnal course,
Shed down a day serenely sweet and fair…

—Allan Ramsay (1684–1758), “The Eclipse”

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #eclipse #astronomy #18thcentury #Scots #Scotslanguage

The Eclipse
Allan Ramsay

Upon his guilded chariot led by hours,
With radiant glories darting throw the air,
The sun, high sprung in his diurnal course,
Shed down a day serenely sweet and fair.
The earth mair beautiful and fertile grew;
The flow’ry fields in rich array,
Smil’d lovely on the beamy day,
Delightful for the eye to view;
Ceres, with her golden hair,
Displaying treasure ilka where,
While useful plenty made her stalks to bow.

A thousand little suns glanc’d on the wave;
Nature appear’d to claim the sun’s respect,
All did sae blyth and beauteously behave.
“Ah!” cry’d the moon, “too much for him ye deck;
“My aking een cannot this glory bear;
“This sun pretends nane in the sky
“Can shine but him, then where am I?
“Soon I the contrary shall clear:
“By ae bauld strake,
“With him I’ll make
“My equal empire in the heaven appear.”

“’Tis me that gives a lustre to the night;
“Then should not I my proper right display,
“And now, even now dart down my silver light?
“I give enough, this sun gives too much day.”
The project fram’d, pale Cynthia now to shaw
Her shining power, right daftly run
Directly ’tween the earth and Sun.
Unwise design! the warld then saw,
Instead of light, the Moon
Brought darkness in at noon,
And without borrowing, had no light at a’.

Thus many empty and imprudent men,
Wha to their ain infirmities are blind,
Rax yont their reach, and this way let us ken
A jealous, weak and insufficient mind.

ALT

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41d

“You will have heard that I am going to commence Poet in print; and to-morrow my works go to the press. I expect it will be a volume of about two hundred pages. It is just the last foolish action I intend to do—and then turn a wise man as fast as possible.”

The “Kilmarnock Edition” of Robert Burns’s Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect was published #OTD, 31 July, 1786.

https://digital.nls.uk/poems-chiefly-in-the-scottish-dialect/archive/74464614#?c=0&m=0&s=0&cv=0&xywh=-9336%2C-785%2C21170%2C15693

#Scottish #literature #poetry #18thcentury #RobertBurns #romanticism #BookHistory

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40d

It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonie,
Beneath the moon’s unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie…

—Robert Burns, “Corn Rigs”
pages from Robert Burns: Selected Poems & Songs (OUP, 2013)

Today, 1 August, is Lammas Day

https://global.oup.com/academic/product/selected-poems-and-songs-9780199682324?cc=gb&lang=en&

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #song #18thcentury #folksong #RobertBurns #Lammas #LammasDay #romanticism #Scots #Scotslanguage

SONG
Tune-Corn Rigs are bonie

It was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie:®
The time flew by, wi' tentless heed,
Till 'tween the late and early;
Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed,
To see me thro' the barley.

The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly;
I set her down, wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:
I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kiss'd her ore and owre again,
Amang the rigs o' barley.

I lock'd her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely:
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs o' barley!
But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She ay shall bless that happy night,
Amang the rigs o' barley.

ALT

I hae been blythe wi' Comrades dear;
I hae been merry drinking;
I hae been joyfu gath'rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking:
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,
Tho' three times doubl'd fairly,
That happy night was worth them a',
Amang the rigs o' barley.

CHORUS
Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,
An' corn rigs are bonie:
I'll ne'er forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi' Annie.

ALT

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25d

The Laird o’ Cockpen, he’s proud an’ he’s great,
His mind is ta’en up wi’ the things o’ the State…

Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne (1766–1845) was born #OTD, 16 Aug. Oliphant wrote over 100 popular songs to traditional Scottish tunes. Although she shunned publicity & never acknowledged her authorship, along with Robert Burns she is one of the most significant figures in Scottish folksong

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#Scottish #literature #song #folksong #18thcentury #19thcentury #womenwriters #Scots #Scotslanguage

Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne
“The Laird o’ Cockpen”

The Laird o’ Cockpen, he’s proud an’ he’s great,
His mind is ta’en up wi’ the things o’ the State;
He wanted a wife, his braw house to keep,
But favour wi’ wooin’ was fashious to seek.

Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table head he thocht she’d look well,
M’Leish’s ae dochter o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea,
A penniless lass wi’ a lang pedigree.

His wig was weel pouther’d and as gude as new,
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, and cock’d hat,
And wha could refuse the Laird wi’ a’ that?

He took the grey mare, and rade cannily,
And rapp’d at the yett o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea;
‘Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben, –
She’s wanted to speak to the Laird o’ Cockpen.’

Mistress Jean she was makin’ the elderflower wine;
‘An’ what brings the Laird at sic a like time?’
She put aff her apron, and on her silk goun,
Her mutch wi’ red ribbons, and gaed awa’ doun.

An’ when she cam’ ben, he bowed fu’ low,
An’ what was his errand he soon let her know;
Amazed was the Laird when the lady said ‘Na’,
And wi’ a laigh curtsie she turned awa’.

Dumfounder’d was he, nae sigh did he gie,
He mounted his mare – he rade cannily;
An’ aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
She’s daft to refuse the laird o’ Cockpen.

ALT

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24d

Henry Raeburn’s portrait of Robert Burns had been missing for more than 200 years until it was discovered during a house clearance & sold at auction in 2025. It is on display in the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum in Alloway until 1 November – free, no booking required

https://www.nts.org.uk/stories/burns-portrait-returns-to-poets-birthplace

#Scottish #literature #RobertBurns #romanticism #portrait #painting #visualart #18thcentury #19thcentury #Raeburn #HenryRaeburn

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15d

Lines etched on a window at Wingate’s Inn, Stirling, 26 August 1787

Here Stewarts once in triumph reign’d,
And laws for Scotland’s weal ordain’ d;
But now unroof’d their Palace stands,
Their Sceptre’s fall’n to other hands…

#OTD, 26 August, 1787, Robert Burns wrote this poem with a diamond-tipped pen on a window in Stirling

https://burnsmuseum.wordpress.com/2018/08/24/graffiti-artist/

#Scottish #literature #18thcentury #Jacobites #Hanoverian #republicanism #monarchy #RobertBurns #graffiti

Lines etched on a window at Wingate’s Inn, Stirling, 26 August 1787
Robert Burns

Here Stewarts once in triumph reign’d,
And laws for Scotland’s weal ordain’d;
But now unroof’d their Palace stands,
Their Sceptre’s fall’n to other hands;
Fall’n indeed, and to the Earth
Whence grovelling reptiles take their birth.
The injur’d STEWART-line are gone,
A Race outlandish fills their throne:
An idiot race, to honour lost—
Who know them best despise them most.

ALT

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10d

40 Years On: Aberdeen, Enlightenment, & Global Legacies
15 Oct, in-person & online – free

A landmark 1986 gathering placed Aberdeen at the centre of Scottish Enlightenment studies. This event revisits that scholarship & explores new perspectives on Aberdeen’s intellectual, cultural, & global impact

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/40-years-on-aberdeen-enlightenment-and-global-legacies-online-tickets-1992760674822

#Scottish #literature #culture #culturalstudies #Enlightenment #ScottishEnlightenment #18thcentury #Aberdeen

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5d

Daft gowk, in macaroni dress,
Are ye come here to shaw your face,
Bowden wi’ pride o’ simmer gloss,
To cast a dash at Reikie’s cross…

—“On Seeing a Butterfly in the Street”, by Robert Fergusson (1750–1774) – born #OTD, 5 Sept. In his short life he reinvigorated #poetry in Scots. A 🎂🧵

1/10

#Scottish #literature #poem #poetry #18thcentury #Edinburgh #RobertFergusson

On Seeing a Butterfly in the Street
Robert Fergusson

Daft gowk, in macaroni dress,
Are ye come here to shaw your face,
Bowden wi’ pride o’ simmer gloss,
To cast a dash at Reikie’s cross;
And glowr at mony a twa-legg’d creature,
Flees, braw by art, tho’ worms by nature?

Like country laird in city cleeding,
Ye’re come to town to lear’ good breeding;
To bring ilk darling toast and fashion
In vogue amang the flee creation,
That they, like buskit belles and beaux,
May crook their mou’ fu’ sour at those
Whase weird is still to creep, alas!
Unnotic’d ʼmang the humble grass;
While you, wi’ wings new buskit trim,
Can far frae yird and reptiles skim;
Newfangle grown wi’ new-got form,
You soar aboon your mither worm.

Kind Nature lent but for a day
Her wings to mak ye sprush and gay;
In her habuliments a while
Ye may your former sell beguile,
And ding awa’ the vexing thought
O’ hourly dwinin’ into nought,
By beengin’ to your foppish brithers,
Black corbies dress’d in peacock’s feathers;
Like thee they dander here and there,
Whan Simmer’s blinks are warm and fair,
And lo’e to snuff the healthy balm,
Whan E’enin’ spreads her wing sae calm;
But whan she girns and glow’rs sae dour
Frae Borean houff in angry show’r,
Like thee they scour frae street or field,
And hap them in a lyther bield;
For they were never made to dree
The adverse gloom o’ Fortune’s e’e,
Nor ever pried life’s pinin’ woes,
Nor pu’d the prickles wi’ the rose.

ALT

Poor Butterfly! thy case I mourn,
To green kail-yard and fruits return:
How could you troke the mavis’ note
For “penny pies all-pipin’ hot?”
Can lintie’s music be compar’d
Wi’ gruntles frae the City Guard?
Or can our flow’rs, at ten hour’s bell,
The gowan or the spink excel?

Now shou’d our sclates wi’ hailstanes ring,
What cabbage-fauld wad screen your wing;
Say, fluttering fairy! wert thy hap
To light beneath braw Nanny’s cap,
Wad she, proud butterfly of May!
In pity let you skaithless gae?
The furies glancing frae her een
Wad rug your wings o’ siller sheen,
That, wae for thee! far, far outvy
Her Paris artist’s finest dye;
Then a’ your bonny spraings wad fall,
And you a worm be left to crawl.

To sic mishanter rins the laird
Wha quits his ha’-house and kail-yard,
Grows politician, scours to court,
Whare he’s the laughing-stock and sport
O’ Ministers, wha jeer and jibe,
And heeze his hopes wi’ thought o’ bribe,
Till in the end they flae him bare,
Leave him to poortith, and to care.
Their fleetchin’ words owre late he sees,
He trudges hame, repines, and dies.

Sic be their fa’ wha dirk their ben
In blackest business nae their ain;
And may they scad their lips fu’ leal,
That dip their spoons in ither’s kail.

ALT

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3d

Susan Ferrier (1782–1854) was born #OTD, 7 Sept. Her 3 novels – 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, & 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 – are vivid & humorous accounts of Scottish society. Often compared to her contemporary Jane Austen, Ferrier’s satires are much more vicious…

A 🎂🧵

1/10

https://www.nls.uk/collections/stories/literature-and-poetry/susan-ferrier-and-her-contemporaries/

#Scottish #literature #Regency #18thcentury #19thCentury #romanticism #WomenWriters #SusanFerrier #JaneAusten #humour #satire

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