Poem#Art
A Prayer in the Prospect of Death
Poem byRobert Burns · 1759–1796
Commonly attributed — not confirmed in an authoritative edition. Text from PoetryDB's public-domain archive; not yet checked against a printed edition.
English (original)
O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause Of all my hope and fear! In whose dread presence, ere an hour, Perhaps I must appear! If I have wander’d in those paths Of life I ought to shun, As something, loudly, in my breast, Remonstrates I have done; Thou know’st that Thou hast formed me With passions wild and strong; And list’ning to their witching voice Has often led me wrong. Where human weakness has come short, Or frailty stept aside, Do Thou, All-Good-for such Thou art— In shades of darkness hide. Where with intention I have err’d, No other plea I have, But, Thou art good; and Goodness still Delighteth to forgive.
— Robert Burns
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THE LAMP of day, with-ill presaging glare, Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the western wave; Th’ inconstant blast howl’d thro’ the dark’ning air, And hollow whistled in the rocky cave.
Suppressed Stanzas of “The Vision”
WITH secret throes I marked that earth, That cottage, witness of my birth; And near I saw, bold issuing forth In youthful pride,
On the late Captain Grose’s Peregrinations
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