Classic Poem

I TELL a tale o' burnin' love,
A love they seldom tine
Wha ance ha'e nursed it in their hearts:
It's no a love divine;
It's no a tale o' human love,
Whaur ane may lo'e anither;
It's no a mither's for a bairn,
A sister's for her brither:

Nae love o' science or o' art,
Or nature's bonny face;
It's no a love o' warl's gear,
Nor a love o' power and place;
It's no a love o' ocht that's gude,
Or ocht that's fine or fair;
It's no a love o' priest or kirk—
It's unco seldom there.

This burnin' love dries up the sap
O' mony a plant an' flower.
O' human growth; the levin fires
Ha'e nae sic deadly power.
It drains the life-bluid frae the he'rt
O' mony a wretched wife,
An' robs the waefu' parent's mind
O' ilka joy in life.

It strips the bairnie o' its duds
An' robs it o' its bread,
An' taks, though it should dee wi' cauld,
The blanket aff the bed;
“It sets the mouth against the heavens”
Wi' cursin' an' blasphemin',
Sic mixture o' the fiend and brute
There's little hope o' tamin'.

Nae thocht for body or for saul,
Nae care for name or fame—
This burnin' love consumes them a',
And glories in its shame.
Oh! frae this base an' burnin' love
Let man an' woman shrink:
This deadly an' degradin' thing—
The burnin' love o' drink.

The burnin' love o' burnin' drink
Sune burnin' ruin brings,
An' burnin' plagues on every han'
Aroun' the lan' it flings.
Oh! ye wha thole this burnin' love,
I rede ye o' the fate
That bides ye: tear it frae your heart
Wi' bitter, burnin' hate.