Just a final thought ...

Our national bard Rabbie Burns had memories of a wood when he penned the poem Craigieburn Wood. Apparently Craigieburn Wood was near to where the Craigieburn ran into the river Moffat not far from the town of Moffat and was the birthplace of Jean Lorimer, a family friend. Perhaps it was a wooing poem written on behalf of one of Burns’ fellow excisemen. Apparently, if it was, it failed as the lady in question went off and married another man who ended up in the debtors prison in Carlisle.

Craigieburn Wood

Sweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn,

And blythe awakes the morrow;

But a' the pride o' Spring's return

Can yield me nocht but sorrow.

I see the flowers and spreading trees,

I hear the wild birds singing;

But what a weary wight can please,

And Care his bosom wringing!

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,

Yet dare na for your anger;

But secret love will break my heart,

If I conceal it langer.

If thou refuse to pity me,

If thou shalt love another,

When yon green leaves fade frae the tree,

Around my grave they'll wither.

Robert Burns

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