To Mrs Frances Anna Dunlop of Dunlop

 

                                           Edinburgh, 12th February 1788

The much respected Patroness of my early Muse certainly deserved a better return fro me than to let her excellent, her kind letter remain so long unanswered.- Your elegant epistle, delivered, struck me so much, that I immediately made a private vow to give you a few verses on the subject: or at least, write you such a Post-sheet as would be a pennyworth at sixpence.- I have failed in both.- Some important business respecting my future days, and the miserable dunning and plaguing of Creech, has busied me till I am good for nothing.-Your criticisms and observations on the President’s Elegy are just.- Tell me what you think of the following? Therte the bosom was perhaps a little interested.-

                             Clarinda, Mistress of my soul,

Mr Schetky, the celebrated Musician, has done these line the honor of setting them to music.- The following is a jue d’esprit of t’other day, on a despairing Lover carrying me to see his Dulcinea-

                             Anna, thy charms my bosom fire

T don’t know whether I have not, sometime or other, sent you my Epigram on Elphinstone’s translation, of and commentaries on Martial, the famous Latin Poet-

                   To Mr E-
          O thou, whom Poesy abhors;
          Whom Prose has turned out of doors!
          Heardst thou yon groan – proceed no further
          ‘Twas laurell’d Martial calling Murther!

I leave Edinburgh on Saturday morning.- If my horse meet me at Glasgow, I will probably do myself the honor of calling at Dunlop House.-

Some things, my revered Patroness, in your late letters hurt me; not that you say them, but that you mistake me.- Religion, my honoured Madam has not only been all my life my Chief dependance, but my dearest enjoyment.- I have indeed been the luckless victim of wayward Follies; but, alas! I have ever been “More fool than knave.” – A Mathematician without Religion, is a probable character; an irreligious Poet, is a Monster.- I have been lately at Lady Wallace’s and was delighted to find Miss Dunlop a daughter of the Mother; I shall call there again ere I leave town.-

I have the honor to be, Madam your oblidged humble servant
                                                                   Robt Burns