My worthy friend, ne'er grudge an' carp, Tho' Fortune ufe you hard an' fharp; Come, kittle up your moorland barp Wi' gleefome touch! Ne'er mind how Fortune waft an' warp; She's gien me monie a jirt an' fleg, Sin I could ftriddle owre a rig; But, by the L-d, tho' I fhould beg Wi' lyart pow, I'll laugh, an' fing, an' fhake my leg, As lang's I dow! Now comes the fax an' twentieth fimmer, I've seen the bud upo' the timmer, Still perfecuted by the limmer Frae year to year; But yet, despite the kittle kimmer, I, Rob, am here. Do Do ye envy the city Gent, Behint a kift to lie and sklent, Or purfe-proud, big wi' cent. per cent. And muckle wame, In fome bit Brugh to reprefent A Bailie's name? Or is't the paughty, feudal Thane, Wi' ruffl'd fark an' glancing cane, Wha thinks himfel nae fheep-fhank bane, But lordly ftalks, While caps and bonnets aff are taen, As by he walks ? • O Thou wha gies us each guid gift! 'Gie me o' wit an' fenfe a lift, Then turn me, if Thou pleafe, adrift, 'Thro' Scotland wide; Wi' cits nor lairds I wadna fhift, In a' their pride!' Were Were this the charter of our ftate, 'On pain o' hell be rich an' great,' Damnation then would be our fate, Beyond remead ; But, thanks to Heav'n, that's no the gate We learn our creed. For thus the royal Mandate ran, When first the human race began, The focial, friendly, honeft man, • Whate'er he be, 'Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan, 'An none but be! O Mandate glorious and divine! The followers of the ragged Nine, Poor, thoughtless devils! yet may shine Tho' here they fcrape, an' squeeze, an' growl, Their worthlefs neivefu' of a foul May in fome future carcafe howl, The foreft's fright; Or in fome day-detefting owl May fhun the light. Then may L****** and B**** arise, To reach their native, kindred skies, And sing their pleasures, hopes, an' joys, In fome mild fphere, Still clofer knit in friendship's ties Each paffing year! ΤΟ |