My worthy friend, ne'er grudge an' carp, Tho' Fortune ufe you hard an' fharp; Come, kittle up your moorland harp Wi' gleefome touch! Ne'er mind how Fortune waft an' warp; She's gien me monie a jirt an' fleg, Sin I could ftriddle owre a rig; But, by the L-d, tho' I should beg Wi' lyart pow, I'll laugh, an' fing, an' shake my leg, As lang's I dow! Now comes the fax an' twentieth fimmer, I've feen the bud upo' the timmer, Still perfecuted by the limmer Frae year to year; But yet, despite the kittle kimmer, I, Rob, am here. Do Do ye envy the city Gent, Behint a kift to lie and fklent, Or purfe-proud, big wi' cent. per cent. And muckle wame, In fome bit Brugh to reprefent A Bailie's name? Or is't the paughty, feudal Thane, While caps and bonnets aff are taen, Then turn me, if Thou please, adrift, Thro' Scotland wide; Wi' cits nor lairds I wadna fhift, In a' their pride!' Were Were this the charter of our state, 'On pain o' hell be rich an' great,' Damnation then would be our fate, Beyond remead; But, thanks to Heav'n, that's no the gate For thus the royal Mandate ran, When firft the human race began, The focial, friendly, honeft man, Whate'er he be, 'Tis he fulfils great Nature's plan, And none but he! O Mandate glorious and divine! The followers of the ragged Nine, Poor, thoughtless devils! yet may shine In glorious light, While fordid fons of Mammon's line Are dark as night. VOL. II. E Tho Tho' here they fcrape, an' fqueeze, an' growl, Their worthlefs neivefu' of a foul May in fome future carcafe howl, The foreft's fright; Or in fome day-detefting owl May fhun the light. Then may L*****k and B**** arise, To reach their native, kindred fkies, And fing their pleasures, hopes an' joys, In fome mild fphere, Still closer knit in friendship's ties Each paffing year! |