But though of clay he was (a fate Each child of earth must share), As well as being a child of earth, He was a child of _Ayr_. VII. And though he could not vaunt his _house_, Nor boast his birth's gentility, Nature upon the boy bestow'd Her patent of nobility. VIII. It needed not for him his race In heralds' books should shine; What pride of ancestry compares With his illustrious _line_. IX. So he, with heaven-ennobled soul, All heralds held in scorn, Save one, the oldest of them all,-- "The herald of the morn." X. Call'd by _his_ clarion, up rose he, True liege of Nature's throne, _Fields_ to invest, and mountain _crest_ With _blazon_ of his own. XI. His _Vert_, the morning's dewy green, His _Purpure_, evening's close, His _Azure_, the unclouded sky, His _Gules_, "the red, red rose." XII. His _Argent_ sparkled in the streams That flash'd through birken bowers; His _Or_ was in the autumn leaves That fell in golden showers. XIII. Silver and gold of other sort The poet had but little; But he had more of rarer store,-- His heart's undaunted mettle. XIV. And yet his heart was gentle, too,-- Sweet woman could enslave him; And from the shafts of Cupid's bow Even Armour[6] could not save him. XV. And if that Armour could not save From shafts that chance might wield, What wonder that the poet wise Cared little for a _shield_. XVI. And _Sable_, too, and _Argent_ (which For colours heralds write) In BURNS' uncompromising hands Were honest _black and white_. XVII. And in that honest black and white He wrote his verses bold; And though he sent them far _abroad_, Home truths they always told. XVIII. And so for "honest poverty" He sent a brilliant page down; And, to do battle for the poor, The gauger threw his _gauge_ down. XIX. For him the garb of "hodden gray" Than tabards had more charms; He took the part of _sleeveless coats_ Against the _Coats of Arms_. XX. And although they of Oxford may Sneer at his want of knowledge, He had enough of wit at least, To beat the Heralds' College. XXI. The growing brotherhood of his kind He clearly, proudly saw that, When launching from his lustrous mind, "A man's a man for a' that!" _Rival Rhymes, in honour of Burns;_ by Ben Trovato (Routledge), London, 1859. * * * * * THE HAUNTED LIMBO. _A May-Night Vision, after a Visit to the Grosvenor Gallery._ (_With acknowledgment of a hint from_ HOOD.) I. A world of whim I wandered in of late, A limbo all unknown to common mortals; But in the drear night-watches 'twas my fate To pass within its portals.