Quote

Burns hath no words today to substitute for mine.
He used but quill to write his lay or diamond on pane to catch a line
That carried thanks or marked a day bringing some message kind
To someone who had sent a flask of wine.
And eke unfortunate he never saw son, his own,
Emerge from boyhood and to manhood grown
Bringing him joy and ease of mind to hand.
Sans quill, sans home made ink, sans dusting sand,
So MIB today must jogging prose invite
From Pegasus descend and plodding write
In homely word and phrase of Southern land
Of this fair gift now held within her hand.
* * *
Please note the paper fair on which ‘tis writ.
T'was brought to me at eve on Christmas day
By one who on a summer's day, with ready wit,
Poured tea and talk for us in rose embraced Oak Bay

Christmas 1955

This is more by my grandmother. Dad and I are trying to figure out who the friend was that gave her the paper.