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January 25, 2015

Happy Birthday, Rabbie Burns

My Heart’s in the Highlands
My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.

Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth ;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains, high-cover’d with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.

Robert Burns, 1789

January 25th marks Burns Night, the annual celebration of Scotland’s national poet Robert Burns. Celebrated on, or about, the Bard’s birthday, celebrations include the famous Burns Suppers, which range from formal gatherings of aesthetes and scholars to uproariously informal rave-ups of drunkards and louts. Most Burns Suppers fall in the middle of this range, and adhere, more or less, to some sort of time honoured forms which include the eating of a traditional Scottish meal, the drinking of Scotch whisky, and the recitation of works by, about, and in the spirit of the Bard. It would be a strange Burns Supper indeed that did not include at least some lines from Auld Lang Syne.

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak’ a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

Robert Burns was born on 25 January 1759 in the village of Alloway, two miles south of Ayr. His parents, Willian Burnes and Agnes Broun, were tenant farmers but they ensured their son received a good education and he was an avid reader.

Hard physical labour on the family farm took its toll on the young Burns, who increasingly indulged in his passions of poetry, nature, drink and women.

Burns fathered twins with the woman who was to become his wife, Jean Armour, but a rift in their relationship almost led to him emigrating to the West Indies with lover Mary Campbell (his Highland Mary). Mary’s sudden death and the sensational success of his first published collection of verse kept him in Scotland. At just 27, Burns had already become famous across the country with poems such as To a Louse, To a Mouse and The Cotter’s Saturday Night.
Newly hailed as the Ploughman Poet because his poems complemented the growing literary taste for romanticism and pastoral pleasures, Burns arrived in Edinburgh, where he was welcomed by a circle of wealthy and important friends.

Illicit relationships and the fathering of illegitimate children ran parallel to a productive period in his working life. His correspondence with Agnes ‘Nancy’ McLehose resulted in the classic Ae Fond Kiss. A collaboration with James Johnson led to a long-term involvement in The Scots Musical Museum, which included the poems including Auld Lang Syne.

In just 18 short months, Burns had spent most of the wealth from his published poetry, and in 1789 he began work as an Excise Officer in Dumfries and resumed his relationship with his wife Jean. His increasingly radical political views influenced many of the phenomenal number of poems, songs and letters he continued to pen.

The hard work this new job entailed, combined with the toil of his earlier life and dissolute lifestyle began to take their toll on Burns’s health. He died on 21 July 1796 aged just 37 and was buried with full civil and military honours on the very day his son Maxwell was born. A memorial edition of his poems was published to raise money for his wife and children.

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