Lord Nevil039s Advice

“Friend,” quoth Lord Nevil, “thou art young

To face the world, and thou art blind

To subtle ways of womankind;

The meshes thou wilt fall among.

“Take an old married man’s advice;

Use the experience I have earned;

Watch well where women are concerned,-

They’re not all birds of paradise!

“Be circumspect, or thou mayst fall;

Abjure a blind faith-nay, trust none-

Till thou hast chosen, proven one;

Then trust her truly-trust in all.

“Keep a calm brain and quiet eye,

And watch. The doll of powder and paint,

The flirt, the artificial saint,

The loud man-woman pass them by.

“The innocent one, who craves thy cares

To shield her from life’s fret and fray;

Lad, watch her-maybe she’ll betray

Some doubtful knowledge, unawares.

“The pensive one, who droops and sighs-

Wait till her dreaming comes to test;

Be gentle, yet be wary, lest

‘Tis but a graceful grey disguise.

“The world-wise husband-hunter-she

Who knows no love but love of gold,

And lands and titles-empty, cold,-

Pity her, lad, and let her be.

“And the rich heiress-let her pass.

Belike she’s stupid, drugged with wealth,

And just enjoys her life and health

As some fat cow in clover grass.

“Or insolent with prosperity,

Unsharpened, shallow, unrefined;-

And thou art poor, and thou wilt mind

That proud blood cometh down to thee.

“The gushing gossip-she who rains

Incessant chatter in thine ears;-

She may be worth thy keenest fears,

She may be simply lacking brains,

“And lacking grace and modesty.

She will make mischief, at the best;

She may be wily, like the rest;

Keep thy tongue still when she is by.

“They that would master thee, if they could,

In brain and muscle-flaring lights-

The clamorous for false woman’s rights;-

Snub them, my friend-it does them good-

“And do not think of them for wives.

Fit mates for such seem somewhat rare;

But when two odd ones make a pair,

They spoil at least four precious lives.

“But shouldst thou chance to meet a girl

With brave, bright eyes, that front thee straight,

A kindly tongue that does not prate,

And quiet lips that cannot curl;

“With fine sense, quick to understand,

With dignity that is not cold,

Sweet, sunny mirth that is not bold,

A ready ear, a willing hand;

“One skilled in household arts, and skilled

In little courteous, graceful ways,

That make no show and win no praise-

Wherewith discordant jars are stilled:

“One who will never touch a sore;

One who sheds sunshine round about,

And draws life’s hidden comfort out;

One whom the boys and babes adore:

“One with an intellect to reach

The highest range that thou canst rise;

Who will aye help thee, woman-wise,

And yet not set herself to teach:

“One of whom women love to speak,

In honest kindness, and whose name

Men let alone; whose chiefest fame

Lies hidden where men may not seek;-

“Friend, woo her, as a good knight can,

And win her. Lay thou at her feet

Faith, love, and honour, true and sweet;

And count thyself a happy man.”

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Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: Epitaph For James Smith: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epitaph On John Dove, Innkeeper: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Farewell To Ballochmyle: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Young Peggy Blooms: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Second Epistle to Davie: A Brother Poet by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Masonic Song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Lines On Meeting With Lord Daer: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To The Toothache: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Farewell Song To The Banks Of Ayr: “I composed this song as I conveyed my chest so far on my road to Greenock, where I was to embark in a few days for Jamaica. I meant it as my farewell dirge to my native land.”-R. B. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: O Thou Dread Power: Lying at a reverend friend’s house one night, the author left the following verses in the room where he slept:- by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epigram On Rough Roads: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Fragment Of Song: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Brigs Of Ayr: Inscribed to John Ballantine, Esq., Ayr. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Reply To A Trimming Epistle Received From A Tailor: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Willie Chalmers: Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:- by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Nature’s Law – A Poem: Humbly inscribed to Gavin Hamilton, Esq. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Calf: To the Rev. James Steven, on his text, Malachi, ch. iv. vers. 2. “And ye shall go forth, and grow up, as Calves of the stall.” by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Thomson’s Edward and Eleanora.: by Robert Burns

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