| |
| SIR, o’er a gill I gat your card, | |
| I trow it made me proud; | |
| “See wha taks notice o’ the bard!” | |
| I lap and cried fu’ loud. | |
| |
| Now deil-ma-care about their jaw, | 5 |
| The senseless, gawky million; | |
| I’ll cock my nose abune them a’, | |
| I’m roos’d by Craigen-Gillan! | |
| |
| ’Twas noble, sir; ’twas like yourself’, | |
| To grant your high protection: | 10 |
| A great man’s smile ye ken fu’ well | |
| Is aye a blest infection. | |
| |
| Tho’, by his banes wha in a tub | |
| Match’d Macedonian Sandy! | |
| On my ain legs thro’ dirt and dub, | 15 |
| I independent stand aye,— | |
| |
| And when those legs to gude, warm kail, | |
| Wi’ welcome canna bear me, | |
| A lee dyke-side, a sybow-tail, | |
| An’ barley-scone shall cheer me. | 20 |
| |
| Heaven spare you lang to kiss the breath | |
| O’ mony flow’ry simmers! | |
| An’ bless your bonie lasses baith, | |
| I’m tauld they’re loosome kimmers! | |
| |
| An’ God bless young Dunaskin’s laird, | 25 |
| The blossom of our gentry! | |
| An’ may he wear and auld man’s beard, | |
| A credit to his country. | |
| |
