Friend of the Poet, tried and leal,
Wha, wanting thee, might beg orsteal;
Alake, alake, the meikledeil
Wi’ a’his witches
Are at it skelpin jig and reel,
In my poor pouches?
I modestly fu’fainwadhint it,
That One-pound-one, I sairlywant it;
If wi’ the hizziedown ye sent it,
It would be kind;
And while my heart wi’ life-blood dunted,
I’d bear’t in mind.
So may the Auldyear gangout moanin’
To see the New come laden, groanin’,
Wi’double plenty o’er the loanin’,
To thee and thine:
Domestic peace and comforts crownin’
The hale design.
Ye’ve heard this while how I’ve been lickit,
And by fellDeath was nearly nickit;
Grim loon! he got me by the fecket,
And sairme sheuk;
But by gudeluck I lapa wicket,
And turn’d a neuk.
But by that health, I’ve got a share o’t,
Butbythat life, I’m promis’d mairo’t,
My haleand wee, I’ll taka care o’t,
Then farewell folly, hide and hair o’t,
For anceand aye!