A Bard's Epitaph

A Bard’s Epitaph
The political implications of Burns’s code-switching are more obvious in “A Bard’s Epitaph,”
the concluding poem of the Kilmarnock edition. Here Burns makes himself into a national
symbol by writing about himself as one – albeit deceased. Where Burns names himself a
bard it is with the connotations that McGuirk outlines: “a bard is a poet whose insights
convey a national perspective and for whom self-expression simultaneously involves cultural
definition” (106). In the opening stanza, Burns asks any man, any “whim-inspir’d fool, / Owre
fast for thought, owre hot for rule” that passes his grave to pause and shed a tear on his
behalf. The words “inspir’d” and “rule” hint at the political undercurrent in this poem. Yet, it is
in the second stanza where Burns really begins to characterize himself as a fallen hero of
Scotland. He, “the bard of rustic song” who (in a hidden pun) both “steals” a position among
the crowds and “steels” the crowd towards radical sentiment, appeals to the onlookers and
hopes to elicit a “frater-feeling strong” or sense of Scottish fraternity. Burns then makes an
example of himself for others, asking them to avoid his mistakes and wildness (probably his
fondness for whisky and women). He cautions the onlooker, and so too the reader, to
“attend” and learn to steer the course of their lives with similar passionate Scottishness but
with more prudence.
In so doing, Burns switches from a thin Scots at the opening to pure Standard English in the
final stanza – linking “self-control” with an increasingly anglicized voice. This code-switching
implies that the English stanzas are the careful ones, those more officially permissible yet
drained of the passion of the opening Scots. It is the English turned voice that is also linked
to his supposed bardic failure. Of course, as Andrews points out, these lines are highly ironic
“in light of Burns’s project of national identification through the representation of character.
Where Ramsay and Fergusson had been unable to create successful models for national
unification […], Burns’s appealed much more effectively to its national audience because of
the ‘prudent, cautious self-control’ at the heart of its representations of character” (330-1).
Burns’s bardic self allowed Scotsmen to see themselves as flawed yet genuine, as farmers
also capable of philosophical thought, as both able to use English and able to choose Scots
as best suits the moment. This “offered them a national character that could not be
incorporated or dissolved” even in the midst of the English pressures that were so forcefully
present in Scotland the later eighteenth century (Andrews 331).
More about this poem

This solemn meditation on the destruction of a poet through 'life's mad career' is the final
poem of the Kilmarnock Edition of 1786.
In its message of self-control and prudence as the root of wisdom, it is atypical for Burns,
and is arguably inspired by the poet's own self-made image as 'a Bard of rustic song' whose
'thoughtless follies... stained his name!'
After the first stanza in the vernacular, the poem warns us in English of the dangers of
reckless and impulsive living, ultimately revealing that if reputation is to be saved and
wisdom attained, life ought to be lived prudently.
Juliet Linden Bicket

Themes for this poem
death regret poetry
Locations for this poem

Mauchline
Selected for 31 July

It was on the last day of July in 1786 that perhaps the most important book ever published in
Scotland made its debut in print. The Kilmarnock Edition of Burns's poems was to transform
its author's life. No more thoughts of emigration. After the success confirmed and
consolidated by these 'poems chiefly in the Scottish dialect', the local scribbler would
become the national bard and international literary celebrity. All of that from a print run of just
612 copies, sold out within the month. This was the last poem in Robert Burns's first book
and given what was to be the brief span of his life there is a poignant irony in his penning an
epitaph for himself.
13. A BARD’S EPITAPH 1786

Burns imagines himself buried in the grave and invites passers-by to weep for him. Is there a
whim-inspired fool,
Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,
Let him draw near;
And owre this grassy heap sing dool,
And drap a tear.
Is there an idiot who acts on the inspiration of caprice
Who acts before he thinks and is too hot-headed or stubborn to be ruled; who is to
bashful/shy
to seek/inquire or ask others probably and too proud to creep (be obsequious)? Let him draw
near (qu’il approche) and over this grassy heap/mound (often used to describe the burial
place) and sing dolefully (sadly) and drop a tear.
Is there a bard of rustic song,
Who, noteless, steals the crowds among,
That weekly this area throng,
O, pass not by!
Is there a poet who creates rustic songs and who unknown is passing among the crowds
that
usually gather weekly in this area? Do not go by (my grave without stopping)
But, with a frater-feeling strong,
Here, heave a sigh.
But with strong brotherly feeling come and heave a sigh.
Is there a man, whose judgment clear
Can others teach the course to steer,
Yet runs, himself, life's mad career,
Wild as the wave,
Is there a man whose clear judgement can teach other people how to take the right course
but
for himself is unable to do this and instead runs as wild as the waves in his own path in life?
Here pause-and, thro' the starting tear,
Survey this grave.
If you are like that man, then pause and from incipient fear inspect this grave
The poor inhabitant below
Was quick to learn the wise to know,
The poor inhabitant below = Burns himself was very quick to know how to teach wise people
knowledge
And keenly felt the friendly glow,
And softer flame;
And he deeply appreciated the warmth of friendship and the softer flame of love
But thoughtless follies laid him low,
And stain'd his name!
But his own thoughtless madness got him into trouble and stained (tarnir) his reputation
Reader, attend! whether thy soul
Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,
In low pursuit:
Reader listen to me! Whether your soul soars your flights of imagination beyond the North
Pole or whether your soul digs about half-concealed in this hole in the ground looking for
light (inspiration, knowledge)

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A Bard’s Epitaph

More about this poem

Juliet Linden Bicket

Locations for this poem

Selected for 31 July

13. A BARD’S EPITAPH 1786

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