Many other poems of Burns's have a dramatic element. The failure to recognize some of his poems as monologues has possibly been the cause of some of the adverse criticism upon him. He was not insincere in "Afton Water." It is not a personal love poem. In fact, it expresses admiration for nature more than any other emotion. The Mary in this poem is an imaginary being. Dr. Currie was no doubt correct when he said the poem was written in honor of Mrs. Stewart of Stair. It may also be in honor of Highland Mary, as the poet's brother, Gilbert, thought. The two views will not seem inconsistent to one who knows Burns's custom in writing his poems.
Burns frequently used this indirect or dramatic method. In situations calling only for the expression of simple friendship, he adopted the manner of a lover pouring out his feelings to his beloved, and many poems which are nothing more than celebrations of friendly and kindly relations are yet conceived as uttered by a lover.
One of his last poems, written, in fact, when he was on his death-bed, was addressed to Jessie Lewars, the sister of a brother exciseman, a young girl who took care of the poet and of his sick wife and family during his last illness, and without whose kindness the dying poet would have lacked many comforts. In writing this poem, however, his manner still clung to him, and he expresses his gratitude in the tone of a lover.
"Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee: Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'.
"Or were I in the wildest waste, Of earth and air, of earth and air, The desert were a paradise If thou wert there, if thou wert there. Or were I monarch o' the globe, Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen."
Of course, this is lyric. Though not the lover of Jessie, in imagination he became such, and hence the lover's feeling, though the result of an imaginary situation, completely predominates. The point, however, here is that it has a monologue form, and that we make a mistake in conceiving that every poem which Burns wrote is purely personal.