William McGonagall, the Dundonian poet is famous for his "bathetic" poetry, which although hilarious, is also occasionally moving, as we see in this tribute to the greatest of the Scottish poets, Robert Burns.
Contributed to the Ayrshire Post by "Sir William Topaz McGonagall," 24th April 1897
Ye sons of Scotland, my heart often mourns
When I think of the treatment of Robert Burns;
Because, while he was living, . . . .
The people unto him were seldom giving.
Alas, by the people, you were neglected,
Which caused your spirits to be dejected,
And made thee in agony, for to groan
With hunger and sorrow, sad and forlorn.
Oh, pity the sorrows of a poor poet
When in want of bread;
And help him while living,
For he requires no help when he’s dead.
Immortal Robert Burns of Ayr,
There’s but few poets can with you compare;
Some of your poems and songs are very fine –
To Mary in Heaven is most sublime.
And, then again, in your Cottar’s Saturday Night,
Your genius there does shine most bright,
And fills the readers’ hearts with delight,
As pure as the dew drops of night.
Your Tam o’Shanter is very fine,
Funny, racey, and divine; . . . .
And from John O’Groats to Dumfries
All critics consider it to be a masterpiece.
And, also, you have said the same,
Therefore you are not to blame;
And in my own opinion both you and them are right,
For your genius there does sparkle bright,
Like unto the stars of night,
Which I most solemnly declare
To thee, immortal bard of Ayr.
Your Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon
Are sweet and melodious in its tune,
Because the poetry is moral and sublime,
And in my opinion nothing can be more fine.
Your Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled
Is most beautiful to hear sung or read;
For your genius there does shine bright,
And fills Scots hearts with delight.
Immortal bard of Ayr, I must conclude my muse,
And to write in praise of thee my pen does not refuse,
For you were a mighty poet, few could with you compare,
And also an honour to Scotland,
For your genius it is fair.
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