English poem
To Alex. Cunningham, ESQ., Writer
by Robert Burns
Ellisland, Nithsdale, July 27th, 1788.
My godlike friend—nay, do not stare, You think the phrase is odd-like; But God is love, the saints declare, Then surely thou art god-like.
And is thy ardour still the same? And kindled still at Anna? Others may boast a partial flame, But thou art a volcano!
Ev’n Wedlock asks not love beyond Death’s tie-dissolving portal; But thou, omnipotently fond, May’st promise love immortal!
Thy wounds such healing powers defy, Such symptoms dire attend them, That last great antihectic try— Marriage perhaps may mend them.
Sweet Anna has an air—a grace, Divine, magnetic, touching: She talks, she charms—but who can trace The process of bewitching?
More by Robert Burns
- To A Lady, With A Present Of A Pair Of Drinking-Glasses.
- To A Louse, On Seeing One In A Lady's Bonnet, At Church
- To A Mountain Daisy, On Turning One Down With The Plough In April, 1786.
- To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough, November, 1785.
- To Captain Riddel, Of Glenriddel. Extempore Lines On Returning A Newspaper.
- To Chloris.
- To Clarinda.
- To Dr. Blacklock, In Answer To A Letter.