“And wear thou this”—­she solemn said,
     And bound the holly round my head: 
     The polish’d leaves and berries red
     Did rustling play;
     And, like a passing thought, she fled
     In light away.

[To Mrs. Stewart of Stair, Burns presented a manuscript copy of the Vision.  That copy embraces about twenty stanzas at the end of Duan First, which he cancelled when he came to print the price in his Kilmarnock volume.  Seven of these he restored in printing his second edition, as noted on p. 174.  The following are the verses which he left unpublished.]

Suppressed Stanza’s Of “The Vision”

     After 18th stanza of the text (at “His native land"):—­

     With secret throes I marked that earth,
     That cottage, witness of my birth;
     And near I saw, bold issuing forth
     In youthful pride,
     A Lindsay race of noble worth,
     Famed far and wide.

     Where, hid behind a spreading wood,
     An ancient Pict-built mansion stood,
     I spied, among an angel brood,
     A female pair;
     Sweet shone their high maternal blood,
     And father’s air.^1

     An ancient tower^2 to memory brought
     How Dettingen’s bold hero fought;
     Still, far from sinking into nought,
     It owns a lord
     Who far in western climates fought,
     With trusty sword.

     [Footnote 1:  Sundrum.—­R.B.]

     [Footnote 2:  Stair.—­R.B.]

     Among the rest I well could spy
     One gallant, graceful, martial boy,
     The soldier sparkled in his eye,
     A diamond water. 
     I blest that noble badge with joy,
     That owned me frater.^3

     After 20th stanza of the text (at “Dispensing good"):—­

     Near by arose a mansion fine^4
     The seat of many a muse divine;
     Not rustic muses such as mine,
     With holly crown’d,
     But th’ ancient, tuneful, laurell’d Nine,
     From classic ground.

     I mourn’d the card that Fortune dealt,
     To see where bonie Whitefoords dwelt;^5
     But other prospects made me melt,
     That village near;^6
     There Nature, Friendship, Love, I felt,
     Fond-mingling, dear!

     Hail!  Nature’s pang, more strong than death! 
     Warm Friendship’s glow, like kindling wrath! 
     Love, dearer than the parting breath
     Of dying friend! 
     Not ev’n with life’s wild devious path,
     Your force shall end!

     The Power that gave the soft alarms
     In blooming Whitefoord’s rosy charms,
     Still threats the tiny, feather’d arms,
     The barbed dart,
     While lovely Wilhelmina warms
     The coldest heart.^7

     After 21st stanza of the text (at “That, to adore"):—­

     Where Lugar leaves his moorland plaid,^8
     Where lately Want was idly laid,