« AnteriorContinuar »
Forjesket fair, with weary legs, Rattlin the corn out-owre the rigs, Or dealing thro' amang the naigs
Their ten hours bite, My awkart Muse fair pleads and begs,
I wou'd na write.
The tapetless ramfeezl'd hizzie,
This month an' mair, • That trouth my head is grown right dizzie,
An' something fair.'
Her dowff excuses pat me mad; • Conscience,' says I, ye thowless jad! • I'll write, an' that a hearty bląud,
• This vera night; So dinna ye affront your trade,
t'u • But rhyme it right.
Shall bauld L*****k, the king o' hearts, · Tho' mankind were a pack o' cartes, • Roose you fae weel for your deserts,
• In terms sae friendly, • Yet ye'll neglect to shaw your parts,
• An' thank him kindly !'
Sae I gat paper in a blink,
• I vow I'll close it; • An' if ye winna mak it clink,
• By Jove I'll prose it!
Sae I've begun to scrawl, but whether
Let time mak proof;
My worthy friend, ne'er grudge an' carp, Tho' Fortune use you hard an' sharp ; Come, kittle up your moorland barp
Wi' gleesome touch! Ne'er mind how Fortune waft an' warp;
She's but a b-tch.
She's gien me monie a jirt an' fleg,
Wi' lyart pow,
As lang's I dow!
Now comes the fax an' twentieth limmer,
Frae year to year ;
Do ye envy the city Gent,
And muckle wame,
A Bailie's name?
Or is't the paughty, feudal Thane,
But lordly stalks,
As by he walks ?
• Thou wha gies us each guid gift! • Gie me o' wit an' sense a lift, • Then turn me, if Thou please, adrift,
· Thro' Scotland wide ; • Wi' cits nor lairds I wadna shift, • In a' their pride!'
Were this the charter of our state,
We learn our creed.
For thus the royal Mandate ran, When first the human race began, • The social, friendly, honest man,
• Whate'er he be, “ 'Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan,
An none but be!
O Mandate glorious and divine !
In glorious light,
Are dark as night. Vol. II.