o have been John Davidson, a shoemaker, who lies buried
in the same place. Yet, from Burns's poem we would gather that this
latter lived in Ayr. But these things matter little. From his
experience of the smuggling farmers of Kirkoswald, among whom "he
first became acquainted with scenes of swaggering and riot," and his
remembrance of the tales that haunted the spot where he passed his
childhood, combined with his knowledge of the peasantry, their habits
and superstitions, Burns's imagination wove the inimitable tale.

After this, the best poetic offspring of the Ellisland period, Burns
composed only a few short pieces during his tenancy of that farm. (p. 123)
Among these, however, was one which cannot be passed over. In January,
1791, the Earl of Glencairn, who had been his first, and, it may be
almost said, his only real friend and patron among the Scottish
peerage, died at the early age of forty-two, just as he returned to
Falmouth after a vain search for health abroad. Burns had always loved
and honoured Lord Glencairn, as well he might,--although his
lordship's gentleness had not always missed giving offence to the
poet's sensitive and proud spirit. Yet on the whole he was the best
patron whom Burns had found, or was ever to find among his countrymen.
When then he heard of the earl's death, he mourned his loss as that of
a true friend, and poured forth a fine lament, which concludes with
the following well-known lines:--

The bridegroom may forget the bride,
Was made his wedded wife yestreen;
The monarch may forget the crown,
That on his head an hour has been;
The mother may forget the child,
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,
And a' that thou hast done for me.

Burns's elegies, except when they are comical, are not among his
happiest efforts. Some of them are frigid and affected. But this was
the genuine language of sincere grief. He afterwards showed the
permanence of his affection by calling one of his boys James
Glencairn.

A few songs make up the roll of the Ellisland productions during 1791.
One only of these is noteworthy--that most popular song, _The Banks o'
Doon_. His own words in sending it to a friend are these:--"March,
1791. While here I sit, sad and solitary, by the side of a fire, (p. 124)
in a little country inn, and drying my wet clothes, in pops a po