Elegy on Capt.n Matthew Henderson. ----
A gentleman who held the Patent for his Honors
immediately from Almighty God. ----
But now his radiant course is run,
For Matthew's course was bright;
His soul was like the glorious Sun,
A matchless Heavenly Light. ----
O Death! thou tyrant fell & bloody!
The meikle devil wi' a woodie
Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie,
O'er hurcheon hides,
And like stock-fish come o'er his studdie
Wi' thy auld sides!
He's gane! He's gane! he's frae us torn,
The ae best fellow e'er was born!
Thee, Matthew, woods & wilds shall mourn,
With a' their birth;
For whensane Man to grieve wad scorn,
For poor, plain Worth.
-- Ye
Ye hills, near neebors o' the starns,
That proudly cock your cresting cairns;
Ye cliffs, the haunts of sailing yearns,
Where Echo slumbers;
Come join, ye Nature's sturdiest bairns,
My wailing numbers. --
Mourn, ilka grove the cushat kens;
Ye hazelly shaws, & breerie dens;
Ye burnies, wimplin down the glens
Wi' toddlin din;
Or foaming, strang, wi' hasty stens
Frae lin to lin. ----
Mourn, little harebells o'er the lea;
Ye stately foxgloves fair to see;
Ye woodbines hanging bonnilie
In scented bowers;
Ye roses on your thorny tree,
The first o' flowers. --
At dawn, when every grassy blade
Droops with a diamond at his head;
At
At even, when beans their fragrance shed,
I' th' rustling gale; Ye maukins whiddin thro' the glade, Come join my wail. –
Mourn, ye wee sangsters o' the wood;
Ye grous that crap the heather bud;
Ye curlews skirlin thro' a clud; Ye whistling pliver;
And mourn, ye birrin paitrick brood, He's gane for ever.
-- Mourn, sooty coots, & speckled teals;
Ye fisher herons, watching eels;
Ye deuk and drake, wi' airy wheels Circling the lake:
Ye bitterns, till the quagmire reels, Rowt for his sake.
-- Mourn, clamouring craiks at close o' day,
'Mang fields o' flowering claver gay;
And when ye wing your annual way Frae our cauld shore,
;And when ye wing your annual way Frae our cauld shore,
Tell thae far worlds, wha lies in clay,
Whom we deplore. ----
Ye houlets, frae your ivy bower,
In some auld tree, or aulder tower,
What time the moon wi' silent glowr
Sets up her horn,
Wail thro' the dreary midnight hour,
Till waukrife morn. ----
O rivers, forests, hills & plains!
Oft have ye heard my rustic strains:
But now, what else for me remains
But tales of woe;
And frae my een the drapping rains
Mast ever flow!
Mourn, Spring, thou darling of the year,
Ilk cowslip-cup shall kep a tear:
Thou, Simmer, while each corny spear
Shoots up its head,
Thy gay, green, flowery tresses shear,
For him that's dead.
Thou
Thou, Autumn, wi' thy yellow hair,
In grief thy sallow mantle tear:
Thou, Winter, hurling thro' the air
The roaring blast,
Wide o'er the naked world declare
The worth we've lost. --
Mourn him thou Sun, great source of light:
Mourn, Empress of the silent night;
And you ye twinkling starnies bright,
My Matthew mourn;
For thro' your orbs he's taen his flight,
Ne'er to return. ----
O Henderson! the Man! the Brother!
And art thou gone, & gone for ever!
And hast thou crost that unknown river,
Life's dreary bound!
Like thee where shall I find another,
The world around!
Go to your sculptur'd tombs, ye Great,
In a' the tinsel trash of state!
But
;
But by thy honest turf I'll wait,
Thou Man of Worth;
And weep the ae best fellow's fate,
E'er lay in earth!
The Epitaph
Stop, Passenger! my story's brief,
And truth I shall relate, man;
I tell nae common tale o' grief,
For Matthew was a Great Man. --
If thou uncommon merit hast,
Yet spurn'd at Fortune's door, man;
A look of pity hither cast,
For Matthew was a poor man. -
If thou a noble Sodger art,
That passest by this grave, man;
There moulders here a gallant heart,
For Matthew
If thou on men, their warks & ways,
Canst throw uncommon light, man;
Here lies wha weel had won thy praise,
For Matthew was a bright man. ----
If thou at Friendship's sacred ca'
Wad life itself resign, man;
Thy sympathetic tear maun fa',
For Matthew was a kind man. --
If thou art staunch, without a stain,
Like the unchanging blue, man;
This was a kinsman o' thy ain,
For Matthew was a true man. ----
If thou hast wit, & fun, & fire,
And ne'er gude wine did fear, man;
This was thy billie, dam & sire,
For Matthew was a queer man. --
If
If ony whiggish, whingin sot,
To blame poor Matthew dare, man;
May dool & sorrow be his lot,
For Matthew was a rare man! --
_____
![](https://ciim-data.nts.org.uk/media/iiif/3/pf%2F2%2F1%2F40%2F422%2FNTSBRNp06365.ptif/full/!640,640/0/default.jpg)
Key details
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/02/162
- Alt. number
- 3.6215.c
- Date
- 1791
- On display
- Yes
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
- Recipient
- Henderson, Captain Matthew
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/02/162
- Alt. number
- 3.6215.c
- Date
- 1791
- On display
- Yes
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
- Recipient
- Henderson, Captain Matthew
Description
Elegy on Capt. Matthew Henderson, part of the Afton manuscript collection.
This elegy, or poem written in memory of the dead, was written by Burns on his friend Matthew Henderson, who died in 1788. Burns uses an old elegiac tradition of calling upon all animals and natural bodies, such as the sun and moon, to mourn his friend. The poem continues with an epitaph, describing Henderson's many virtues.
Burns continues to paint a beautiful picture of the world that mourns Henderson - hills, cliffs, woods, streams and flowers. He then starts in times of day with dawn.
Burns continues his list of things that will mourn Henderson, continuing with the evening, then cataloguing the mourning birds, their activities and settings.
The migrating birds should carry word of Henderson's death to the world, while the owls wail the news all night. The land has often heard Burns' country tunes, but now will only get sad tales and tears. Spring and summer should mourn for his dead friend.
Burns will wait by the plain grave of his friends and weep for the best man ever laid in earth. The second part of the poem, the Epitaph, now begins, describing Burns' friend. The form of the poem also changes. Matthew was a great, poor, brave man.
Burns continues to describe the virtues of his friend - he was bright, kind, true and queer. By queer, Burns means roguish.
Burns rounds off the Epitaph with one verse casting sorrow on anyone who speaks ill of Matthew, who was a rare man. "Whig" refers to the political party then in power (the Liberals), to whom the radical politics of Burns and Matthew were often opposed.
Captain Matthew Henderson was part of "a genteel profligate society" in Edinburgh, who had inherited property from his father but been forced to sell due to his spending. Henderson had much in common with Burns - he enjoyed convivial company, was a Mason, an antiquarian and had radical politics.
Archive information
Themes
Hierarchy
-
Robert Burns, collection of poems and songs
(
a sub-fonds is a subdivision in the archival material)
- Elegy on Capt. Matthew Henderson
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