My Father was a Farmer Robert Burns

My Father was a Farmer
Sung to the tune of “The Weaver and his Shuttle, O.”

1My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O,
And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;
He bade me act a manly part, though I had never a farthing, O;
For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.

2Then out into the world my course I did determine, O;
Tho’ to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, O:
My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my education, O;
Resolved was I, at least to try, to mend my situation, O.

3In many a way, and vain essay, I courted fortune’s favour, O;
Some cause unseen still stept between to frustrate each endeavour, O:
Sometimes by foes I was overpowered, sometimes by friends forsaken, O,
And when my hope was at the top, I still was worst mistaken, O.

4Then sore harassed, and tired at last, with fortune’s vain delusion, O,
I dropped my schemes, like idle dreams, and came to this conclusion, O:
The past was bad, and the future hid; its good or ill untried, O;
But the present hour, was in my power, and so I would enjoy it, O.

5No help, nor hope, nor view had I, nor person to befriend me, O;
So I must toil, and sweat and broil, and labour to sustain me, O:
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, my father bred me early, O;
For one, he said, to labour bred, was a match for fortune fairly, O.

6Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro’ life I’m doomed to wander, O,
Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber, O.
No view nor care, but shun whatever might breed me pain or sorrow, O:
I live to-day as well’s I may regardless of to-morrow, O.

7But cheerful still, I am as well, as a monarch in a palace, O,
Tho’ Fortune’s frown still hunts me down with all her wonted malice, O:
I make indeed my daily bread, but never can make it farther, O;
But, as daily bread is all I need, I do not much regard her, O.

8When sometimes by my labour I earn a little money, O,
Some unforeseen misfortune comes generally upon me, O:
Mischance, mistake, or by neglect, or my good-natured folly, O;
But come what will, I’ve sworn it still, I’ll never be melancholy, O.

9All you who follow wealth and power, with unremitting ardour, O,
The more in this you look for bliss, you leave your view the farther, O:
Had you the wealth Potosi boasts, or nations to adorn you, O,
A cheerful honest-hearted clown I will prefer before you, O.

What is the MOST LIKELY reason the author uses a first-person narrator in the passage?
A)He wanted to conclude a surprise ending
B)The poem is about his personal feelings
C)The poem is about relationships family
D)He wanted to conclude his father's perspective