On a Scotch Bard, Gone to the West Indies
A’ ye wha live by sowps o’ drink,A’ ye wha live by crambo-clink,A’ ye wha live and never think,Come, mourn wi’ me!Our billie ’s gien us a’ a jink,An’ owre the sea!
Lament him a’ ye rantin core,Wha dearly like a random splore;Nae mair he’ll join the merry roar;In social key;For now he’s taen anither shore.An’ owre the sea!
The bonie lasses weel may wiss him,And in their dear petitions place him:The widows, wives, an’ a’ may bless himWi’ tearfu’ e’e;For weel I wat they’ll sairly miss himThat’s owre the sea!
O Fortune, they hae room to grumble!Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle,Wha can do nought but fyke an’ fumble,’Twad been nae plea;But he was gleg as ony wumble,That’s owre the sea!
Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers wear,An’ stain them wi’ the saut, saut tear;’Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,In flinders flee:He was her Laureat mony a year,That’s owre the sea!
He saw Misfortune’s cauld nor-westLang mustering up a bitter blast;A jillet brak his heart at last,Ill may she be!So, took a berth afore the mast,An’ owre the sea.
To tremble under Fortune’s cummock,On a scarce a bellyfu’ o’ drummock,Wi’ his proud, independent stomach,Could ill agree;So, row’t his hurdies in a hammock,An’ owre the sea.
He ne’er was gien to great misguidin,Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in;Wi’ him it ne’er was under hiding;He dealt it free:The Muse was a’ that he took pride in,That’s owre the sea.
Jamaica bodies, use him weel,An’ hap him in cozie biel:Ye’ll find him aye a dainty chiel,An’ fou o’ glee:He wad na wrang’d the vera deil,That’s owre the sea.
Farewell, my rhyme-composing billie!Your native soil was right ill-willie;But may ye flourish like a lily,Now bonilie!I’ll toast you in my hindmost gillie,Tho’ owre the sea!
Words in this poem 20
- clink v. t.
- To cause to give out a slight, sharp, tinkling, sound, as by striking metallic or other sonorous bodies together. [OE. clinken; akin to G. klingen, D. klinken, SW. klinga, Dan. klinge; prob. of imitative origin. Cf. Clank, Clench, Click, v. i.]
- jink v. i.
- To move quickly, esp. with a sudden turn; hence, to dodge; to escape by a quick turn; --obs. or dial., except as a hunting term in pig-sticking.
- weel
- A kind of trap or snare for fish, made of twigs. Carew. [Prov. E. weel, weal, a wicker basket to catch eels; prob. akin to willow, and so called as made of willow twigs.]
- wiss adv.
- Certainly; really; indeed. [Aphetic form of iwis, ywis; or fr. Icel. viss certain. See Ywis.]
- grumble v. i.
- To murmur or mutter with discontent; to make ill-natured complaints in a low voice and a surly manner. [Cf. LG. grummeln, grumman, D. grommelen, grommen, and F. grommeler, of German origin; cf. W. grwm, murmur, grumble, surly. sq. root35. Cf. Grum, Grim.]
- fyke n.
- A long bag net distended by hoops, into which fish can pass easily, without being able to return; -- called also fyke net. [D. fuik a bow net.]
- fumble v. i.
- To feel or grope about; to make awkward attempts to do or find something. [Akin to D. fommelen to crumple, fumble, Sw. fumla to fusuble, famla to grope, Dan. famle to grope, fumble, Icel. falme, AS. folm palm of the hand. See Feel, and]
- gleg a.
- Quick of perception; alert; sharp. Jamieson. [Icel. glöggr.]
- auld a.
- Old; as, Auld Reekie (old smoky), i. e., Edinburgh. [See Old.]
- twill v. i.
- To weave, as cloth, so as to produce the appearance of diagonal lines or ribs on the surface. [Scotch tweel; probably from LG. twillen to make double, from twi- two; akin to AS. twi-, E. twi- in twilight. See Twice, and cf. Tweed, Tweel.]
- flinders n.
- Small pieces or splinters; fragments. [Scot. flenders, flendris; perh. akin to E. flutter; cf. D. flenters rags, broken pieces.]
- berth v. t.
- To give an anchorage to, or a place to lie at; to place in a berth; as, she was berthed stem to stern with the Adelaide.
- afore prep.
- Before (in all its senses).
- scarce a.
- Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
- hammock n.
- A swinging couch or bed, usually made of netting or canvas about six feet wide, suspended by clews or cords at the ends. [A word of Indian origin: cf. Sp. hamaca. Columbus, in the Narrative of his first voyage, says: "A great many Indians in canoes came to the ship to-day for the p]
- bide v. i.
- To dwell; to inhabit; to abide; to stay. [OE. biden, AS. bidan; akin to OHG. bitan, Goth. beidan, Icel. bi; perh. orig., to wait with trust, and akin to bid. See Bid, v. t., and cf. Abide.]
- dainty n.
- Value; estimation; the gratification or pleasure taken in anything. [OE. deinie, dainte, deintie, deyntee, OF. deintié delicacy, orig., dignity, honor, fr. L. dignitas, fr. dignus worthy. See Deign, and cf. Dignity.]
- glee n.
- Music; minstrelsy; entertainment.
- deil n.
- Devil; -- spelt also deel. Deil's buckie. See under Buckie.
- gillie n.
- A boy or young man; a manservant; a male attendant, in the Scottish Highlands. [Gael. gille, giolla, boy, lad.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
On a Scotch Bard, Gone to the West Indies is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, Project Gutenberg ebook #1279; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Burns, On a Scotch Bard, Gone to the West Indies, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/on-a-scotch-bard-gone-to-the-west-indies.html, id L03032.
Form and metre
On a Scotch Bard, Gone to the West Indies is 60 lines in 10 stanzas of 6 lines each. The commonest rhyme scheme is AAABAB, in 3 of the 10 stanzas; the rest vary or could not be confirmed. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%). 100% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.0 syllables. 9 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 5% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AAABAB drinkA · clinkA · thinkA · meB · jinkA · seaB
- 2 AAABAB coreA · sploreA · roarA · keyB · shoreA · seaB
- 3 AAABAB himA · himA · himA · e'eB · himA · seaB
- 4 A-ABAB grumbleA · bummle · fumbleA · pleaB · wumbleA · seaB
- 5 AABCBC wearA · tearA · fearB · fleeC · yearB · seaC
- 6 -AABAB west · blastA · lastA · beB · mastA · seaB
- 7 AA-BAB cummockA · drummockA · stomach · agreeB · hammockA · seaB
- 8 -A-BAB misguidin · inA · hiding · freeB · inA · seaB
- 9 AAAB-B weelA · bielA · chielA · gleeB · deil · seaB
- 10 AAA-A- billieA · willieA · lilyA · bonilie · gillieA · sea
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| A’ ye wha live by sowps o’ drink, | 8 | ········ |
| A’ ye wha live by crambo-clink, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| A’ ye wha live and never think, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Come, mourn wi’ me! | 4 | ···· |
| Our billie ’s gien us a’ a jink, | 9 | //˘······ |
| An’ owre the sea! | 4 | ···· |
| Lament him a’ ye rantin core, | 8 | ˘/······ |
| Wha dearly like a random splore; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Nae mair he’ll join the merry roar; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| In social key; | 4 | ·/˘· |
| For now he’s taen anither shore. | 8 | ········ |
| An’ owre the sea! | 4 | ···· |
| The bonie lasses weel may wiss him, | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| And in their dear petitions place him: | 9 | ····˘/˘·· |
| The widows, wives, an’ a’ may bless him | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| Wi’ tearfu’ e’e; | 4 | ···· |
| For weel I wat they’ll sairly miss him | 9 | ········· |
| That’s owre the sea! | 4 | ···· |
| O Fortune, they hae room to grumble! | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Wha can do nought but fyke an’ fumble, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| ’Twad been nae plea; | 4 | ···· |
| But he was gleg as ony wumble, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| That’s owre the sea! | 4 | ···· |
| Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers wear, | 8 | ········ |
| An’ stain them wi’ the saut, saut tear; | 8 | ········ |
| ’Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear, | 8 | ········ |
| In flinders flee: | 4 | ·/˘· |
| He was her Laureat mony a year, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| That’s owre the sea! | 4 | ···· |
| He saw Misfortune’s cauld nor-west | 8 | ··˘/˘··· |
| Lang mustering up a bitter blast; | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| A jillet brak his heart at last, | 8 | ········ |
| Ill may she be! | 4 | ···· |
| So, took a berth afore the mast, | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| An’ owre the sea. | 4 | ···· |
| To tremble under Fortune’s cummock, | 9 | ·/˘··/˘·· |
| On a scarce a bellyfu’ o’ drummock, | 10 | ·········· |
| Wi’ his proud, independent stomach, | 9 | ····˘/˘/˘ |
| Could ill agree; | 4 | ··˘/ |
| So, row’t his hurdies in a hammock, | 8 | ······/˘ |
| An’ owre the sea. | 4 | ···· |
| He ne’er was gien to great misguidin, | 9 | ········· |
| Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in; | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Wi’ him it ne’er was under hiding; | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| He dealt it free: | 4 | ···· |
| The Muse was a’ that he took pride in, | 9 | ········· |
| That’s owre the sea. | 4 | ···· |
| Jamaica bodies, use him weel, | 8 | ˘/˘/˘··· |
| An’ hap him in cozie biel: | 7 | ······· |
| Ye’ll find him aye a dainty chiel, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| An’ fou o’ glee: | 4 | ···· |
| He wad na wrang’d the vera deil, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| That’s owre the sea. | 4 | ···· |
| Farewell, my rhyme-composing billie! | 9 | ·/··˘/˘/˘ |
| Your native soil was right ill-willie; | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| But may ye flourish like a lily, | 9 | ···/˘··/˘ |
| Now bonilie! | 4 | ···· |
| I’ll toast you in my hindmost gillie, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Tho’ owre the sea! | 4 | ···· |
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