Right, sir! your text I'll prove it true, Tho' heretics may laugh; For instance, there's yourself just now, God knows, an unco calf. And should some patron be so kind, As bless you wi' a kirk, I doubt na, sir but then we'll find, Ye're still as great a stirk. But, if the lover's raptur'd hour, Shall ever be your lot, Forbid it, ev'ry heavenly Power, You e'er should be a stot! Tho' when some kind connubial dear Your but-and-ben adorns, The like has been that you may wear A noble head of horns. And, in your lug, most reverend James, To hear you roar and rowt, Few men o' sense will doubt your claims To rank amang the nowt. And when ye're number'd wi' the dead, Below a grassy hillock, With justice they may mark your head -- "Here lies a famous bullock!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SONG OF COURAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE WITCH IN THE GLASS by SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT A QUESTION by JOHN MILLINGTON SYNGE ANCESTRESS by MARGUERITE JANVRIN ADAMS |