Epistle To William Simson（4 / 4）

  o sweet to stray, an' pensive ponder
  a heart-felt sang!
  the war'ly race may drudge an' drive,
  hog-shouther, jundie, stretch, an' strive;
  let me fair nature's face descrive,
  and i, wi' pleasure,
  shall let the busy, grumbling hive
  bum owre their treasure.
  fareweel, “my rhyme-composing” brither!
  we've been owre lang unkenn'd to ither:
  now let us lay our heads thegither,
  in love fraternal:
  may envy wallop in a tether,
  black fiend, infernal!
  while highlandmen hate tools an' taxes;
  while moorlan's herds like guid, fat braxies;
  while terra firma, on her axis,
  diurnal turns;
  count on a friend, in faith an' practice,
  in robert burns. ↑返回顶部↑