The Vision, Duan First and Duan Second
The sun had clos'd the winter day,
The curless quat their roarin play,
And hunger'd maukin taen her way,
To kail-yards green,
While faithless snaws ilk step betray
Where she has been.
The Thresher's weary flingin-tree,
The lee-lang day had tir'd me;
And when the Day had clos'd its e'e,
Far i' th' west,
But i' the Spence, right pensivelie,
I gaed to rest.
There, lanely, by the ingle-cheek,
I sat and ey'd the spewing reek,
That fill'd, wi' hoast-provoking smeek,
The auld clay biggin;
And heard the restless rattons squeak
About the riggin.
All in this mottie, misty clime,
I backward mus'd on wasted time,
How I had spent my youthfu' prime,
And done nae-thing,
But stringing blethers up in rhyme,
For fools to sing.
Had I to guid advice but harket,
I might, by this, hae led a market,
My cash-account;
While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarket.
Is a' th' amount.
I started, mutt'ring, blockhead! coof!
And heav'd on high my wauket loof,
To swear by a' yon starry roof,
Or some rash aith,
That I henceforth would be rhyme-proof
Till my last breath -
When klick! the string the snick did draw;
And jee! the door gaed to the wa';
And by my ingle-lowe I saw,
Now bleezin bright,
A tight, outlandish Hizzie, braw,
Come full in sight.
I trow I instant held my whisht;
The infant-aith, half-form'd, was crush'd;
I glowr'd as eerie's I'd been dusht,
In some wild glen;
When sweet, like Modest Worth, she blush'd,
And stepped ben.
Green, slender, leaf-clad Holly-boughs
Were twisted, gracefu', round her brows,
I took her for some Scottish Muse,
By that same token;
And come to stop those reckless vows,
Would soon been broken.
Was strongly marked in her face;
A wildly-witty, rustic grace
Shone full upon her;
Her eye, ev'n turn'd on empty space,
Beam'd keen with honor.
Down flow'd her robe, a tartan sheen,
Till half a leg was scrimply seen;
And such a leg! my Bess, I ween,
Could only peer it;
Sae straught, sae taper, tight and clean,
Nane else came near it.
Her Mantle large, of greenish hue,
My gazing wonder chiefly drew:
Deep lights and shades, bold-mingling, threw
A lustre grand;
And seem'd, to my astonish'd view,
A well-known land.
Here rivers in the sea were lost;
There mountains to the skies were tost:
Here tumbling billows mark'd the coast,
With surging foam;
There distant shone Art's lofty boast,
The lordly dome.
Here Doon pour'd down his far-fetch'd floods;
There well-fed Irwine stately thuds:
On to the shore;
And many a lesser torrent scuds,
With seeming roar.
Low, in a sandy valley spread,
Ayr } An ancient Borough rear'd her head;
Still, as in Scottish story read,
She boasts a race.
To ev'ry nobler virtue bred,
And polish'd grace.
By stately tow'r, or Mansion fair,
Or ruins pendent in the air,
Bold stems of Heroes, here and there,
I could discern;
Some seem'd to muse, some seem'd to dare,
With feature stern.
My heart did glowing transport feel,
Wallaces} To see a race heroic wheel,
And brandish round the deep-dyed steel,
In sturdy blows;
While back-recoiling, seem'd to reel
Their Suthron foes.
His Country’s saviour, mark him well!
Bold + Richardton’s heroic swell!
The Great Wallace-
+ Adam Wallace of Richardton cousin to the great
Wallace, the Deliverer of Scotland.
Key details
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/02/179
- Alt. number
- 3.6275.a
- Date
- September 1786
- On display
- No
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
- Archive number
- NTS/02/25/BRN/02/179
- Alt. number
- 3.6275.a
- Date
- September 1786
- On display
- No
- Creator
- Burns, Robert (Author)
Description
The Vision, Duan First and Duan Second, part of the Stair manuscript collection, page 1 of 9; 7& 8 missing.
The first part or 'Duan' of the poem starts after the close of a hard days' threshing for Burns. Contemplating the winter outside and his situation, he sits, looking back on time wasted with only worthless rhymes to show for it. He regrets the good advice he didn't take, that might have led him to prosperity.
Burns continues his roll call of the noble families of Ayrshire, many of whom were well known to him - the Montgomeries of Coilsfield march past, with, here, an additional verse on Hugh Montgomerie. The 'aged Judge' is Sir Thomas Miller of Barskimming, Lord Justice Clerk. The poem continues with verses found only in this manuscript, referring to Auchinleck, home of Alexander Boswell and the home of the Whitefords, Ballochmyle. Continuing the same theme, the final two pages of Duan first are missing, containing nine verses, seven of which do not exist in any other manuscript.
Here Burns includes only two verses of Duan Second, as, he writes, the rest can be found in print. In this second section of the poem the Muse, Coila, speaks to Burns, describing the inspiration of muses to all men of Scotland. She has watched over him with hope from his earliest days, inspired by the land, love and passion, and guided him. He may never equal his poetic heroes, but should strive to shine in his humble sphere and be true to poetry, bringing a rustic bard greater bliss than riches or a king's favour.
Burns worked hard and long throughout his life, producing his huge output of poems and songs between farming and later excise duties. 'The Vision' evokes this contrast between the hardship of his life and the breadth of his inspiration.
Archive information
Themes
Hierarchy
-
Robert Burns, collection of poems and songs
(
a sub-fonds is a subdivision in the archival material)
- The Vision, Duan First and Duan Second