TO ROBERT BURNS—(1759-1796)

The Database of Ornament

                                    WHILE Southern lands are trembling in the
                                    throes
                                    Of Earthquake that, with subterraneous
                                    sound
                                    Of hollow thunders, humbles to the
                                    ground
                                    Church, Forum, and Palace,—’neath its frozen snows,
                                    In Arctic isle, a fierce volcano glows
                                    Fretting for ever ‘gainst its iron bound,
                                    Leaps suddenly aloft and flares around,
                                    Flushing a pallid land to fiery rose.

                                    So ‘neath our norland natures—stern and strong—
                                    Sleep seething passions, molten ores of Love—
                                    The themes that fire, the burning thoughts that move,
                                    The Patriot flame, the fiery hate of Wrong;
                                    All these, that pedant Custom would reprove,
                                    Thy fiery soul outflings in rosy flames of Song.

                                                                                                H. BELLYSE BAILDON.