Death and Doctor Hornbook（4 / 7）

  has made them baith no worth a f-t,
  damn'd haet they'll kill!
  “'twas but yestreen, nae farther gane,
  i threw a noble throw at ane;
  wi' less, i'm sure, i've hundreds slain;
  but deil-ma-care,
  it just play'd dirl on the bane,
  but did nae mair.
  “hornbook was by, wi' ready art,
  an' had sae fortify'd the part,
  that when i looked to my dart,
  it was sae blunt,
  fient haet o't wad hae pierc'd the heart
  of a kail-runt.
  “i drew my scythe in sic a fury,
  i near-hand cowpit wi' my hurry,
  but yet the bauld apothecary
  withstood the shock;
  i might as weel hae tried a quarry
  o' hard whin rock.
  “ev'n them he canna get attended,
  altho' their face he ne'er had kend it,
  just—in a kail-blade, an' sent it,
  as soon's he smells 't,
  baith their disease, and what will mend it,
  at once he tells 't.
  “and then, a' doctor's saws an' whittles,
  of a' dimensions, shapes, an' mettles,
  a' kind o' boxes, mugs, an' bottles,
  he's sure to hae; ↑返回顶部↑