TO HIS CRONIES. WHAT gars ye yoke in drucken tuilzies? And ape camstairy Irish bruilzies? Scotch drink was made to mak' ye happy; But ye sook skaith e'en frae the nappie! Fy, quat your splores! hoo daur ye thump Young Bacchus, couthie, quate an' plump? The rude sheleilah's no a sicht For peacefu' punch and cawnle-licht! Whist, billies; cease your angry yabble, And doucely lean you o'er the table. Noo wad ye gar me drink my skair? For ae propyne I'se birl richt fair -- Come, tell me, lad, an' dinna swither, An' prove yoursel' a true-blue brither, Tell me the lass has stown your heart; And show the mark o' Cupid's dart. What, winna ye the lassie name? Then, here's guid e'en, I'se haud me hame. But yet ye needna be sae sweir; You twa, I'm sure, are feir for feir. For ne'er your joe, nor ae-fauld flame, Brocht you yet either skaith or shame. Come tell her name, and be na sweir, You'll lippen to a faithfu' ear. What, sae ye sae! can that be true? Wanweirdy wicht, sair, sair, ye'll rue; The brawest leddie in the land Wad at your biddin' gie her hand. But what a vile wanwordy wooin'! Ye're lairin' in the blackest ruin. Nae witch that wakes at deid o' nicht, Nae warlock in his cantrip-slicht, Nae Gude that leeves aboon the lift, Can raise you frae this eerie tift! Tho' ye should mount the muse's naig, You, elf-shot to the benmost core! Fame couldna harl you up the craig: Nae pow'r frae folly can restore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE BLACK BOY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE STANZAS TO A LADY, WITH THE POEMS OF CAMOENS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 8 by THOMAS CAMPION SONG OF NATURE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON IRELAND (1847) by DENIS FLORENCE MCCARTHY THE MENU by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE FOUR SEASONS by PHILIP AYRES THE PRAYERS by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND AND INGENIOUS FRIEND, THE AUTHOR by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |