Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet（4 / 6）

  and, even should misfortunes come,
  i, here wha sit, hae met wi' some—
  an's thankfu' for them yet.
  they gie the wit of age to youth;
  they let us ken oursel';
  they make us see the naked truth,
  the real guid and ill:
  tho' losses an' crosses
  be lessons right severe,
  there's wit there, ye'll get there,
  ye'll find nae other where.
  but tent me, davie, ace o' hearts!
  (to say aught less wad wrang the cartes,
  and flatt'ry i detest)
  this life has joys for you and i;
  an' joys that riches ne'er could buy,
  an' joys the very best.
  there's a' the pleasures o' the heart,
  the lover an' the frien';
  ye hae your meg, your dearest part,
  and i my darling jean!
  it warms me, it charms me,
  to mention but her name:
  it heats me, it beets me,
  an' sets me a' on flame!
  o all ye pow'rs who rule above!
  o thou whose very self art love!
  thou know'st my words sincere!
  the life-blood streaming thro' my heart,
  or my more dear immortal part, ↑返回顶部↑