“Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As thro’ the glen it wimpl’t; Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays Whyles in a wiel it dimpl’t; Whyles glitter’d to the nightly rays, Wi’ bickering, dancing dazzle; Whyles cookit underneath the braes Below the spreading hazel, Unseen that night. “Amang the brachens on the brae, Between her an’ the moon, The Deil, or else an outler Quey, Gat up an’ gae a croon: Poor Leezie’s heart maist lap the hool; Near lav’rock-height she jumpit, But mist a fit, an’ in the pool Out-owre the lugs she plumpit, Wi’ a plunge that night.” Would any one who can feel the force of that description allow that it could be expressed in literary English without losing much of its charm? I have said that Burns’s glances at Nature are almost all incidental, and, by the way, and this enhances their value. There is, however, a passage in an Epistle to William Simpson, in which he addresses Nature directly, and speaks out more consciously the feeling with which she inspired him:— “O, sweet are Coila’s haughs an’ woods, When lintwhites chant amang the buds, And jinkin hares, in amorous whids, Their loves enjoy, While thro’ the braes the cushat croods Wi’ wailfu’ cry! “Ev’n winter bleak has charms to me When winds rave thro’ the naked tree; Or frosts on hills of Ochiltree Are hoary gray; Or blinding drifts wild-furious flee, Dark’ning the day! “O Nature a’ thy shews and forms To feeling, pensive hearts hae charms! Whether the summer kindly warms Wi’ life an’ light, Or winter howls, in gusty storms, The lang, dark night! “The Muse, nae Poet ever fand her, Till by himsel he learn’d to wander, Adown some trottin burn’s meander, An’ no think lang; O sweet, to stray an’ pensive ponder A heart-felt sang!” Three things may be noted as to the influence of Burns on men’s feeling for Nature.