How wisdom and Folly meet, mix, and unite, How Virtue and Vice blend their black and their white, How Genius, th' illustrious father of fiction, Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction, I sing: If these mortals, the critics, should bustle, I care not, not I-let the Critics go whistle! But now for a Patron whose
My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come len', To anger them a'is a pity, But what will I do wi' Tam Glen? I'm thinking, wi'sica brawfellow, In poortithI might maka fen; What care I in riches to wallow, If I maunnamarry Tam Glen! There's Lowrie the Lairdo' Dumeller- "Gude day to
The Thames flows proudly to the sea, Where royal cities stately stand; Butsweeter flows the Nith to me, Where Comyns ancehad high command. When shall I see that honour'd land, That winding stream I love so dear! Must wayward Fortune's adverse hand For ever, ever keep me here! How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales, Where
Hear, Land o' Cakes, and britherScots, FraeMaidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;- If there's a hole in a'your coats, I redeyou tentit: A chield's amangyou takin notes, And, faith, he'll prentit: If in your bounds ye chance to light Upon a fine, fat fodgelwight, O' stature short, but genius bright, That's he, markweel; And wow! he has