broke

X

For you, young Potentate o' Wales,
I tell your Highness fairly,
Down Pleasure's stream, wi' swelling sails,
I'm tauld ye're driving rarely;
But some day ye may gnaw your nails,
An' curse your folly sairly,

That e'er ye brak Diana's pales,

Or rattl'd dice wi' Charlie

By night or day.

colt

old horse

sedately gossip

XI

Yet aft a ragged cowte's been known,

To mak a noble aiver;

So, ye may doucely fill a throne,

For a' their clish-ma-claver:
There, him at Agincourt wha shone,
Few better were or braver ;

And yet, wi' funny, queer Sir John,

He was an unco shaver

For monie a day.

becomes

ear

XII

For you, right rev'rend Osnaburg,

Nane sets the lawn-sleeve sweeter,
Altho' a ribban at your lug

Wad been a dress completer:

As ye disown yon paughty dog,
That bears the keys of Peter,
Then swith! an' get a wife to hug,
Or trowth, ye 'll stain the mitre
Some luckless day!

haughty

haste!

XIII

Young, royal Tarry-breeks, I learn,
Ye've lately come athwart her-
A glorious galley, stem an' stern

Weel rigg'd for Venus' barter;
But first hang out that she 'll discern
Your hymeneal charter;

Then heave aboard your grapple-airn,

An', large upon her quarter,

Come full that day.

XIV

Ye, lastly, bonie blossoms a',

Ye royal lasses dainty,

Heav'n mak you guid as weel as braw,

An' gie you lads a-plenty !
But sneer na British boys awa!
For kings are unco scant ay,

An' German gentles are but sma' :
They're better just than want ay
On onie day.

grappling.

iron

ceased hare kitchengardens each

I

THE sun had clos'd the winter day,
The curlers quat their roaring play,
And hunger'd maukin taen her way,
To kail-yards green,
While faithless snaws ilk step betray
Whare she has been.

flail

live-long

II

The thresher's weary flingin-tree,
The lee-lang day had tired me;

There, lanely by the ingle-cheek,

I sat and ey'd the spewing reek,
That fill'd, wi' hoast-provoking smeek,
The auld clay biggin ;

An' heard the restless rattons squeak

About the riggin.

-side

volleying

cough-; drift

structure

rats

rooftree

IV

All in this mottie, misty clime,

I backward mus'd on wasted time:
How I had spent my youthfu' prime,
An' done naething,

But stringing blethers up in rhyme,
For fools to sing.

Had I to guid advice but herkit,
I might, by this, hae led a market,
Or strutted in a bank and clarkit

My cash-account:

While here, half-mad, half-fed, half-sarkit,

Is a' th' amount.

dusty

nonsense

-shirted

weakling

horny palm

VI

I started, mutt'ring Blockhead! coof!'
An' heav'd on high my waukit loof,
To swear by a' yon starry roof,

Or some rash aith,

That I henceforth would be rhyme-proof

Till my last breath

latch

-flame

young woman

VII

When click! the string the snick did draw;
And jee! the door gaed to the wa';
And by my ingle-lowe I saw,

Now bleezin bright,

Come full in sight.

A tight, outlandish hizzie, braw,

VIII

peace

stared; touched

inside

Ye need na doubt, I held my whisht;
The infant aith, half-form'd, was crusht;
I glowr'd as eerie's I'd been dusht,

In some wild glen;

When sweet, like modest Worth, she blusht,
And stepped ben.

IX

Green, slender, leaf-clad holly-boughs

Were twisted, gracefu', round her brows;