Now, Kennedy, if foot orhorse
E’erbring you in by Mauchlin corse,
(Lord, man, there’s lasses there wadforce
A hermit’s fancy;
An’ down the gatein faith they’re worse,
An’ mairunchancy).
But as I’m sayin, please step to Dow’s,
An’ taste sicgearas Johnie brews,
Tillsome bitcallanbring me news
That ye are there;
An’ if we dinnahaea bouze,
I’sene’er drink mair.
It’s noI like to sit an’ swallow,
Then like a swine to puke an’ wallow;
But gieme just a true good fallow,
Wi’ right ingine,
And spunkieanceto makus mellow,
An’ then we’ll shine.
Now if ye’re aneo’warl’s folk,
Wharate the wearer bythe cloak,
An’ sklenton poverty their joke,
Wi’ bitter sneer,
Wi’ you naefriendship I will troke,
Nor cheap nor dear.
Butif, as I’m informed weel,
Ye hate as ill’s the very deil
The flinty heart that cannafeel-
Come, sir, here’s to you!
Hae, there’s my haun’, I wissyou weel,
An’gudebe wi’you.
Robt. Burness.
Mossgiel