Friday, January 23, 2026

A celebration of Burns Night in my small town!

 


Robert Burns was born in Alloway, Scotland on January 25th in1759. His father was a tenant farmer in Alloway but moved his family around as he purchased larger farms. Robert’s educational upbringing took him to Dalrymple School and was also taught by John Murdoch and his own father.

Burns was a voracious reader and was able to learn about language and vocabulary and thoughts of the day by reading Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden. He loved the Scottish folk tales along with the songs and ballads.  His tutor, Murdoch, introduced him to the poetry of Alexander Pope and he became versed in Latin and French as well. Burns, in turn, became a tenant farmer like his father without having plans to become the national bard of Scotland. However, his love of poetry and his writing of poetry was so strong that he could not stop writing. His first poem, Handsome Nell, was published in 1774.

Times were difficult in Scotland then, and it was hard to make a living. In 1792 he took a job with the Dumfries Port Division making 70 pounds per year.  Even though he had to earn a living for his family, he kept writing. In all, Robert Burns wrote more than 550 poems and ballads within his short life. He died on July 21,1796  in Scotland.

He is known as the national bard of Scotland. Some scholars feel he has preserved the language and dialect. They still love him in Scotland. Once, when I was in Scotland, I took a Robert Burns tour. The tour guide was great as we walked around Edinburgh. As we meandered through the streets, our tour guide would stop and recite poetry of Burns. My favorite was when we walked into a cathedral, and we were treated to the poem, My Luve is Like a Red, Red Rose. I still remember his beautiful red silk lined cape flinging about as he recited this piece. It was a moment I will never forget.

On Thursday evening, at our newly established Cork and Barrel, we will be celebrating Burns Night. The event will begin at 6:00 and conclude at 8:00 with the singing of Auld Lang Syne, which was written by Burns. April, from Cork and Barrel, has made a special whiskey drink in his honor so we may toast the Bard. In other cities, the celebration includes haggis and tatties!  (We will just enjoy the whiskey!) To make the evening even more special, my good friend and piper, Mark Gropp, will be sharing tunes on the pipe. In full regalia, he will fill the corners of Cork and Barrel with traditional Scottish tunes, In between his songs, members of the Steuben County Theatre will be reading his poetry. Jacob McNeal will be emceeing the event. You will be treated to many of his poems and even a place in the evening for you! If you have a favorite Burns poem, please bring it along to read. We welcome you. By the way, there is no cost to this event.

It is anticipated that 9.5 million folks will be celebrating Burns Night across the world. It began on July 21, 1801 to honor the poem on the 5th anniversary of his death. The first event was actually held in his Burns cottage. The celebration eventually moved to celebrate his birth.

As you know, I am a great lover of poetry and song. My bookshelves are full of poetry books and notes and my own scribblings. I love knowing that we can be part of a bigger celebration held around the world. I mean, how many small towns like ours celebrate in such a big way? If you have never attended a Burns Night, you will have a chance to participate and learn something along the way. (As I write the script for Jacob, I learn something new in every sentence!)

Bring your singing voices for the final song of Auld Lang Syne, and if you own a kilt, please wear it. This is your opportunity! Can’t wait to see you on Thursday evening!

And now, let me share some of the words of My Luve is Like a Red, Red Rose.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose

That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

That’s sweetly played in tune.

 

And fare thee weel, my only luve!

And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my luve,

Though it were ten thousand mile.

 

Robert Burns

 


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