174. The Bard at Inverary
WHOE’ER he be that sojourns here,
I pity much his case,
Unless he comes to wait upon
The Lord their God, His Grace.
There’s naething here but Highland pride,
And Highland scab and hunger:
If Providence has sent me here,
’Twas surely in his anger.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
More Poems by Robert Burns
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on 174. The Bard at Inverary
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem 174. The Bard at Inverary here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.