Tam Samsons Elegy（2 / 4）

  or up the rink like jehu roar,
  in time o' need;
  but now he lags on death's hog-score—
  tam samson's dead!
  now safe the stately sawmont sail,
  and trouts bedropp'd wi' crimson hail,
  and eels, weel-ken'd for souple tail,
  and geds for greed,
  since, dark in death's fish-creel, we wail
  tam samson's dead!
  rejoice, ye birring paitricks a';
  ye cootie muircocks, crousely craw;
  ye maukins, cock your fud fu' braw
  withouten dread;
  your mortal fae is now awa;
  tam samson's dead!
  that woefu' morn be ever mourn'd,
  saw him in shooting graith adorn'd,
  while pointers round impatient burn'd,
  frae couples free'd;
  but och! he gaed and ne'er return'd!
  tam samson's dead!
  in vain auld age his body batters,
  in vain the gout his ancles fetters,
  in vain the burns cam down like waters,
  an acre braid!
  now ev'ry auld wife, greetin, clatters
  “tam samson's dead!”
  owre mony a weary hag he limpit,
  an' aye the tither shot he thumpit, ↑返回顶部↑