Robert Burns pokes fun at conventional heroes here. Instead of praising soldiers with their scars and guns, he raises a glass to the man who simply follows “Nature’s law” of desire and fathers children. The speaker’s tone is warm, earthy, and openly cheeky. Where others sing of war, he celebrates a “lowly bard” (very likely himself) who felt a sacred fire of passion, found a willing partner, and was rewarded with twins. There is a genuine, joyful pride in passing on a poetic legacy — the poem imagines future little Burnses growing up to sing of their homeland, Coila. The mood stays light and life-affirming throughout, treating love and procreation as a far worthier, funnier, and more hopeful calling than the grim “plagues of human life” that other poets glorify. It’s a merry toast to fertility, domestic happiness, and the quiet abundance of a peaceful life.
130. Nature’s Law: A Poem — Summary
LET other heroes boast their scars, The marks of sturt and strife: And other poets sing of wars, The plagues of human life: Shame fa’ the fun, wi’ sword and gun To slap mankind like lumber! I sing his name, and nobler fame, Wha multiplies our number.
Great Nature spoke, with air benign, “Go on, ye human race; This lower world I you resign; Be fruitful and increase. The liquid fire of strong desire I’ve pour’d it in each bosom; Here, on this had, does Mankind stand, And there is Beauty’s blossom.”
The Hero of these artless strains, A lowly bard was he, Who sung his rhymes in Coila’s plains, With meikle mirth an’glee; Kind Nature’s care had given his share Large, of the flaming current; And, all devout, he never sought To stem the sacred torrent.
He felt the powerful, high behest Thrill, vital, thro’ and thro’; And sought a correspondent breast, To give obedience due: Propitious Powers screen’d the young flow’rs, From mildews of abortion; And low! the bard—a great reward— Has got a double portion!
Auld cantie Coil may count the day, As annual it returns, The third of Libra’s equal sway, That gave another Burns, With future rhymes, an’ other times, To emulate his sire: To sing auld Coil in nobler style With more poetic fire.
Ye Powers of peace, and peaceful song, Look down with gracious eyes; And bless auld Coila, large and long, With multiplying joys; Lang may she stand to prop the land, The flow’r of ancient nations; And Burnses spring, her fame to sing, To endless generations!