Epistle To John Rankine（3 / 3）

  the game shall pay, o'er muir an' dale,
  for this, niest year.
  as soon's the clockin-time is by,
  an' the wee pouts begun to cry,
  lord, i'se hae sporting by an' by
  for my gowd guinea,
  tho' i should herd the buckskin kye
  for't in virginia.
  trowth, they had muckle for to blame!
  'twas neither broken wing nor limb,
  but twa-three draps about the wame,
  scarce thro' the feathers;
  an' baith a yellow george to claim,
  an' thole their blethers!
  it pits me aye as mad's a hare;
  so i can rhyme nor write nae mair;
  but pennyworths again is fair,
  when time's expedient:
  meanwhile i am, respected sir,
  your most obedient. ↑返回顶部↑