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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506414" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Dedication</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Expect na, sir, in this narration, <br>A fleechin, fleth'rin Dedication, <br>To roose you up, an' ca' you guid, <br>An' sprung o' great an' noble bluid, <br>Because ye're surnam'd like His Grace- <br>Perhaps related to the race: <br>Then, when I'm tir'd-and sae are ye, <br>Wi' mony a fulsome, sinfu' lie, <br>Set up a face how I stop short, <br>For fear your modesty be hurt. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">This may do-maun do, sir, wi' them wha <br>Maun please the great folk for a wamefou; <br>For me! sae laigh I need na bow, <br>For, Lord be thankit, I can plough; <br>And when I downa yoke a naig, <br>Then, Lord be thankit, I can beg; <br>Sae I shall say-an' that's nae flatt'rin- <br>It's just sic Poet an' sic Patron. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Poet, some guid angel help him, <br>Or else, I fear, some ill ane skelp him! <br>He may do weel for a' he's done yet, <br>But only-he's no just begun yet. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Patron (sir, ye maun forgie me; <br>I winna lie, come what will o' me), <br>On ev'ry hand it will allow'd be, <br>He's just-nae better than he should be. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I readily and freely grant, <br>He downa see a poor man want; <br>What's no his ain, he winna tak it; <br>What ance he says, he winna break it; <br>Ought he can lend he'll no refus't, <br>Till aft his guidness is abus'd; <br>And rascals whiles that do him wrang, <br>Ev'n that, he does na mind it lang; <br>As master, landlord, husband, father, <br>He does na fail his part in either. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But then, nae thanks to him for a'that; <br>Nae godly symptom ye can ca' that; <br>It's naething but a milder feature <br>Of our poor, sinfu' corrupt nature: <br>Ye'll get the best o' moral works, <br>'Mang black Gentoos, and pagan Turks, <br>Or hunters wild on Ponotaxi, <br>Wha never heard of orthodoxy. <br>That he's the poor man's friend in need, <br>The gentleman in word and deed, <br>It's no thro' terror of damnation; <br>It's just a carnal inclination. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Morality, thou deadly bane, <br>Thy tens o' thousands thou hast slain! <br>Vain is his hope, whase stay an' trust is <br>In moral mercy, truth, and justice! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No-stretch a point to catch a plack: <br>Abuse a brother to his back; <br>Steal through the winnock frae a whore, <br>But point the rake that taks the door; <br>Be to the poor like ony whunstane, <br>And haud their noses to the grunstane; <br>Ply ev'ry art o' legal thieving; <br>No matter-stick to sound believing. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces, <br>Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang, wry faces; <br>Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan, <br>And damn a' parties but your own; <br>I'll warrant they ye're nae deceiver, <br>A steady, sturdy, staunch believer. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O ye wha leave the springs o' Calvin, <br>For gumlie dubs of your ain delvin! <br>Ye sons of Heresy and Error, <br>Ye'll some day squeel in quaking terror, <br>When Vengeance draws the sword in wrath. <br>And in the fire throws the sheath; <br>When Ruin, with his sweeping besom, <br>Just frets till Heav'n commission gies him; <br>While o'er the harp pale Misery moans, <br>And strikes the ever-deep'ning tones, <br>Still louder shrieks, and heavier groans! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your pardon, sir, for this digression: <br>I maist forgat my Dedication; <br>But when divinity comes 'cross me, <br>My readers still are sure to lose me. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, sir, you see 'twas nae daft vapour; <br>But I maturely thought it proper, <br>When a' my works I did review, <br>To dedicate them, sir, to you: <br>Because (ye need na tak it ill), <br>I thought them something like yoursel'. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then patronize them wi' your favor, <br>And your petitioner shall ever- <br>I had amaist said, ever pray, <br>But that's a word I need na say; <br>For prayin, I hae little skill o't, <br>I'm baith dead-sweer, an' wretched ill o't; <br>But I'se repeat each poor man's pray'r, <br>That kens or hears about you, sir- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;May ne'er Misfortune's gowling bark, <br>Howl thro' the dwelling o' the clerk! <br>May ne'er his genrous, honest heart, <br>For that same gen'rous spirit smart! <br>May Kennedy's far-honour'd name <br>Lang beet his hymeneal flame, <br>Till Hamiltons, at least a dizzen, <br>Are frae their nuptial labours risen: <br>Five bonie lasses round their table, <br>And sev'n braw fellows, stout an' able, <br>To serve their king an' country weel, <br>By word, or pen, or pointed steel! <br>May health and peace, with mutual rays, <br>Shine on the ev'ning o' his days; <br>Till his wee, curlie John's ier-oe, <br>When ebbing life nae mair shall flow, <br>The last, sad, mournful rites bestow!&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not wind a lang conclusion, <br>With complimentary effusion; <br>But, whilst your wishes and endeavours <br>Are blest with Fortune's smiles and favours, <br>I am, dear sir, with zeal most fervent, <br>Your much indebted, humble servant. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But if (which Pow'rs above prevent) <br>That iron-hearted carl, Want, <br>Attended, in his grim advances, <br>By sad mistakes, and black mischances, <br>While hopes, and joys, and pleasures fly him, <br>Make you as poor a dog as I am, <br>Your humble servant then no more; <br>For who would humbly serve the poor? <br>But, by a poor man's hopes in Heav'n! <br>While recollection's pow'r is giv'n- <br>If, in the vale of humble life, <br>The victim sad of fortune's strife, <br>I, thro' the tender-gushing tear, <br>Should recognise my master dear; <br>If friendless, low, we meet together, <br>Then, sir, your hand-my Friend and Brother!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Burns">Robert Burns</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506414" data-title="A Dedication de Robert Burns" data-description="Expect na, sir, in this narration, 
A fleechin, fleth'rin Dedication, 
To roose you up, an' ca' you guid, 
An' sprung o' great an' noble bluid, 
Because ye're surnam'd like His Grace- 
Perhaps related to the race: 
Then, when I'm tir'd-and sae are..."></div>
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