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Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?
How I so found it full of pleasing charms?
Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between:
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing storms:
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms?
Or Death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode?
For guilt, for guilt, my terrors are in arms;
I tremble to approach an angry God,
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging rod.
Fain would I say, "Forgive my foul offence!"
Fain promise never more to disobey;
But, should my Author health again dispense,
Again I might desert fair virtue's way:
Again in folly's path might go astray;
Again exalt the brute and sink the man;
Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray,
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's plan?
Who sin so oft have mourn'd, yet to temptation ran?
O Thou, great Governor of all below!
If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee,
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow,
Or still the tumult of the raging sea:
With that controlling pow'r assist ev'n me
Those headlong furious passions to confine;
For all unfit I feel my pow'rs to be,
To rule their torrent in th' allowed line;
O, aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine!
Robert Burns, Scotland’s national bard, is celebrated for his lyrical genius, his keen observation of human nature, and his ability to articulate profound emotional and philosophical dilemmas. His poem “Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?” is a striking meditation on mortality, guilt, divine judgment, and human frailty. Though less famous than “To a Mouse” or “Auld Lang Syne,” this poem encapsulates Burns’ characteristic blend of existential questioning, religious anxiety, and raw emotional honesty.
This essay will explore the poem’s historical and cultural context, its literary devices, its central themes, and its emotional resonance. Additionally, we will consider Burns’ personal struggles, the theological influences shaping his thought, and how this poem fits within the broader tradition of confessional and penitential poetry.
Burns wrote during the late 18th century, a period marked by the Enlightenment’s rationalist optimism but also by lingering religious fervor, particularly in Scotland. Calvinism, with its doctrines of predestination and innate human depravity, deeply influenced Burns’ upbringing. The tension between Enlightenment skepticism and traditional piety is palpable in much of his work, including this poem.
Here, Burns grapples with the fear of divine retribution—a theme common in Puritan and Calvinist literature. The speaker’s terror of an “angry God” reflects the Scottish Presbyterian emphasis on sin and judgment, yet his reluctance to leave “this earthly scene” suggests a more humanist attachment to life’s fleeting pleasures. This duality mirrors Burns’ own conflicted relationship with religion: he often critiqued religious hypocrisy but remained haunted by the specter of damnation.
Burns is often considered a precursor to Romanticism, and this poem exemplifies Romantic preoccupations with emotional intensity and the sublime. The imagery of “renewing storms” and the “raging sea” evokes the sublime’s awe-inspiring terror, reinforcing the speaker’s spiritual turmoil. The poem’s introspective tone aligns with Romanticism’s focus on individual experience, yet its theological concerns root it in an earlier, more penitential tradition.
The poem’s diction is elevated yet deeply personal, blending the formal language of religious supplication with raw confessional honesty. Words like “loth,” “dreary,” “tumult,” and “torrent” convey emotional turbulence, while phrases such as “sin-avenging rod” and “Omnipotence Divine” invoke biblical severity. The tone shifts from despairing self-reproach to desperate supplication, mirroring the speaker’s internal struggle.
Burns employs vivid natural imagery to symbolize spiritual states:
“Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between”—Life is a mingled cup, echoing Ecclesiastes’ “vanity of vanities.”
“Some gleams of sunshine ’mid renewing storms”—The transient beauty of earthly life amidst suffering.
“The tempest” and “the raging sea”—Traditional metaphors for divine power and human passions.
These images reinforce the poem’s central tension: the speaker’s attachment to life’s fleeting joys despite his fear of divine punishment.
The poem opens with a rhetorical question: “Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?” This self-interrogation continues throughout, as the speaker examines his own moral failings. The repetition of “For guilt, for guilt” and “Again… Again…” underscores his cyclical sinfulness, evoking St. Paul’s lament in Romans 7:15 (“For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do”).
The poem’s language is steeped in biblical allusion:
“Sin-avenging rod” recalls Psalm 2:9 (“Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron”).
“Furious passions” evokes James 4:1 (“What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you?”).
The plea for divine aid mirrors the Lord’s Prayer (“Lead us not into temptation”).
These references situate the poem within a tradition of penitential literature, akin to John Donne’s Holy Sonnets or George Herbert’s The Temple.
The speaker acknowledges his repeated moral failures:
“Again I might desert fair virtue’s way… / Again exalt the brute and sink the man.”
This admission reflects Burns’ own struggles—his notorious womanizing, financial instability, and bouts of drunkenness. The poem’s despair arises not just from fear of punishment but from the inability to reform, a theme resonant in Augustine’s Confessions and later in Romantic works like Coleridge’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.”
The speaker’s dread of “Death’s unlovely, dreary, dark abode” is compounded by his terror of facing an “angry God.” This reflects the Calvinist doctrine of eternal election and reprobation—Burns, like many of his time, feared he might be among the damned. Yet his reluctance to leave earthly life suggests a tension between fear of the afterlife and love of the world.
The poem captures a fundamental human paradox: the simultaneous longing for transcendence and attachment to earthly pleasures. The speaker acknowledges life’s suffering (“draughts of ill”) yet clings to its “pleasing charms.” This duality aligns with Burns’ broader poetic vision, which celebrates life’s joys while lamenting its transience.
The poem’s emotional power lies in its raw vulnerability. Unlike the defiant sinners of Byron or the serene penitents of Herbert, Burns’ speaker is trapped in a cycle of guilt, fear, and helplessness. His final plea—“O, aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine!”—is both desperate and resigned, echoing the existential helplessness later explored in works like Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment.
Philosophically, the poem raises questions about free will and moral responsibility. If the speaker is powerless against his “headlong furious passions,” can he truly be blamed? This tension between divine sovereignty and human agency was central to Calvinist theology and remains a perennial philosophical dilemma.
Burns’ poem shares affinities with:
John Donne’s Holy Sonnets (e.g., “Batter my heart, three-person’d God”)—both depict sinners begging for divine intervention.
George Herbert’s “The Collar”—a similar struggle between rebellion and submission.
Samuel Johnson’s “The Vanity of Human Wishes”—a meditation on human folly and divine justice.
However, Burns’ voice is more personal and less formally doctrinal, blending piety with a distinctly humanist sensibility.
Burns anticipates:
William Blake’s Songs of Experience—particularly “The Tyger” in its awe of divine power.
Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey”—though more optimistic, it similarly reflects on memory and moral struggle.
Yet Burns’ poem lacks Wordsworth’s pantheistic consolation, remaining firmly within a framework of sin and judgment.
Burns’ own life illuminates the poem’s anguish. Despite his fame, he was plagued by financial woes, ill health, and guilt over his affairs. His letters reveal a man torn between hedonism and remorse, much like his speaker. In 1796, the year of his death, Burns wrote in despair to a friend: “I am a good deal inclined to think with Rousseau that mankind are by nature evil.” This aligns with the poem’s bleak view of human nature.
“Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?” is a profound exploration of guilt, fear, and the human condition. Through its rich imagery, theological allusions, and emotional intensity, Burns crafts a poem that is both a personal lament and a universal meditation on morality and mortality. Situated between Calvinist severity and Romantic individualism, the poem captures the enduring struggle between earthly attachment and spiritual yearning.
Burns’ genius lies in his ability to articulate this struggle with such raw honesty that it transcends its historical moment, speaking to readers across centuries. In this poem, as in his best work, he reminds us that poetry’s greatest power is not in providing answers, but in giving voice to our deepest, most unanswerable questions.
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