careless

X

I'll wander on, wi' tentless heed
How never-halting moments speed,
Till Fate shall snap the brittle thread;
Then, all unknown,

I'll lay me with th' inglorious dead,

Forgot and gone!

well

XI

But why o' death begin a tale?
Just now we're living sound an' hale;
Then top and maintop crowd the sail,

Heave Care o'er-side!

And large, before Enjoyment's gale,

Let's tak the tide.

XII

This life, sae far's I understand,

Is a' enchanted fairy-land,

Where Pleasure is the magic-wand,

That, wielded right,

Maks hours like minutes, hand in hand,

Dance by fu' light.

climbed

XII

The magic-wand then let us wield;
For, ance that five-an'-forty's speel'd,

When ance life's day draws near the gloamin, twilight

Then fareweel vacant, careless roamin;

An' fareweel chearfu' tankards foamin,

An' social noise :

An' fareweel dear, deluding Woman,

The joy of joys!

XV

O Life! how pleasant, in thy morning,
Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning!
Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning,
We frisk away,

Like school-boys, at th' expected warning,
To joy an' play.

sweated

Without

XVII

Some, lucky, find a flow'ry spot,
For which they never toil'd nor swat;
They drink the sweet and eat the fat,
But care or pain;

And haply eye the barren hut

With high disdain.

(

XVIII

With steady aim, some Fortune chase;
Keen Hope does ev'ry sinew brace;
Thro' fair, thro' foul, they urge the race,

And seize the prey:

quiet; snug

Then cannie, in some cozie place,

They close the day.

XIX

And others, like your humble servan',

Poor wights! nae rules nor roads observin,

To right or left eternal swervin,

They zig-zag on;

Till, curst with age, obscure an' starvin,

They aften groan.

XX

Alas! what bitter toil an' straining

But truce with peevish, poor complaining!

Is Fortune's fickle Luna waning?

E'en let her gang!

Beneath what light she has remaining,
Let's sing our sang.

XXI

My pen I here fling to the door,

And kneel, ye Pow'rs! and warm implore,

'Tho' I should wander Terra o'er,

In all her climes,

Grant me but this, I ask no more,

Ay rowth o' rhymes.

XXII

'Gie dreeping roasts to countra lairds,
Till icicles hing frae their beards;
Gie fine braw claes to fine life-guards

And maids of honor;

plenty

dripping

clothes

ale; tinkers

sicken

meal and water; beefless broth

XXIV

While ye are pleas'd to keep me hale, I'll sit down o'er my scanty meal,

Be't water-brose or muslin-kail,

Wi' cheerfu' face,

As lang's the Muses dinna fail

To say the grace.'

XXV

ear

duck

An anxious e'e I never throws
Behint my lug, or by my nose;
I jouk beneath Misfortune's blows
As weel's I may;

Sworn foe to sorrow, care, and prose,

I rhyme away.

sedate

wall

XXVI

ye douce folk that live by rule, Grave, tideless-blooded, calm an' cool, Compar'd wi' you-O fool! fool! fool!

How much unlike!

Your hearts are just a standing pool,

Your lives a dyke!