Longfellow wrote a poem in praise of Robbie Burns, about whom he says “He sings of love, whose flame illumes the darkness of lone cottage rooms”. He regrets “and then to die so young and leave unfinished what he might achieve!”; but thinks it better than to become “An old man in a country town, infirm and poor”. He bids him “Welcome! this vacant chair is thine, dear guest and ghost!”.

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