AYE! we may busk wi' rosie wreath The bitter cup o' care; An' we may gar the drink aneath To skinkle bricht an' fair. An' we may busk the face wi' smiles To hide the woundit heart; An' fleech on mirth wi' flatterin' wiles To pu' awa' the dart. An' we may jilt the suithfast frien' That snibs us when we sin, And ilka hour in daffin' spen' To droon the voice within. But yet the flow'rs -- wi a' their pride The drink they canna sweeten; An' yet the smirks -- they canna hide The heart wi' canker eaten. And conscience, tho' we've held her lang Hush't in a doverin' sleep, Will rise belyve, refresh'd an' strang, An' gar us ruefu' weep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON HUNTINGDON'S 'MIRANDA' by SIDNEY LANIER A FOREIGN RULER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR FRED ENGLEHARDT'S BABY by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS THE SICK KING IN BOKHARA by MATTHEW ARNOLD TAKE YOUR CHOICE: ACCORDING TO FRANKLIN P. ADAMS by BERTON BRALEY |