The robin came to the wren's nest, And keekit in, and keekit in.
The following lines were the characteristic result:
O, wert thou in the cauld blast, [cold] On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, [direction] I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee, Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, [shelter] To share it a', to share it a'.
Or were I in the wildest waste, Sae black and bare, sae black and bare, The desert were a paradise, If thou wert there, if thou wert there. Or were I monarch o' the globe, Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
This group may well close with his great hymn of general allegiance to the sex.
Green grow the rashes, O, Green grow the rashes, O; The sweetest hours that e'er I spend, Are spent amang the lasses, O!
There's nought but care on ev'ry han', In ev'ry hour that passes, O; What signifies the life o' man, An' 'twere na for the lasses, O.
The warly race may riches chase, [worldly] An' riches still may fly them, O; An' tho' at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
But gie me a canny hour at e'en, [quiet] My arms about my dearie, O; An' warly cares, an' warly men, May a' gae tapsalteerie, O! [upside-down]
For you sae douce, ye sneer at this, [sedate] Ye're nought but senseless asses, O: The wisest man the warl' e'er saw, He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O; Her prentice han' she tried on man, An' then she made the lasses, O.
Equally personal, but not connected with love, are a few autobiographical poems of which the following are typical. The third of these, though prosaic enough, is interesting as perhaps Burns's most elaborate summing up of the philosophy of his own career.
There was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o' whatna style [what] I doubt it's hardly worth the while To be sae nice wi' Robin.
Robin was a rovin' boy, [roystering] Rantin' rovin', rantin' rovin'; Robin was a rovin' boy, Rantin' rovin' Robin.
Our monarch's hindmost year but ane [one] Was five-and-twenty days begun, 'Twas then a blast o' Janwar win' Blew hansel in on Robin. [his first gift]