Epistle To Major Logan（2 / 3）
encore! bravo!
a blessing on the cheery gang
wha dearly like a jig or sang,
an' never think o' right an' wrang
by square an' rule,
but, as the clegs o' feeling stang,
are wise or fool.
my hand-waled curse keep hard in chase
the harpy, hoodock, purse-proud race,
wha count on poortith as disgrace;
their tuneless hearts,
may fireside discords jar a base
to a' their parts.
but come, your hand, my careless brither,
i' th' ither warl', if there's anither,
an' that there is, i've little swither
about the matter;
we, cheek for chow, shall jog thegither,
i'se ne'er bid better.
we've faults and failings—granted clearly,
we're frail backsliding mortals merely,
eve's bonie squad, priests wyte them sheerly
for our grand fa';
but still, but still, i like them dearly—
god bless them a'!
ochone for poor castalian drinkers,
when they fa' foul o' earthly jinkers!
the witching, curs'd, delicious blinkers
hae put me hyte,
and gart me weet my waukrife winkers, ↑返回顶部↑
a blessing on the cheery gang
wha dearly like a jig or sang,
an' never think o' right an' wrang
by square an' rule,
but, as the clegs o' feeling stang,
are wise or fool.
my hand-waled curse keep hard in chase
the harpy, hoodock, purse-proud race,
wha count on poortith as disgrace;
their tuneless hearts,
may fireside discords jar a base
to a' their parts.
but come, your hand, my careless brither,
i' th' ither warl', if there's anither,
an' that there is, i've little swither
about the matter;
we, cheek for chow, shall jog thegither,
i'se ne'er bid better.
we've faults and failings—granted clearly,
we're frail backsliding mortals merely,
eve's bonie squad, priests wyte them sheerly
for our grand fa';
but still, but still, i like them dearly—
god bless them a'!
ochone for poor castalian drinkers,
when they fa' foul o' earthly jinkers!
the witching, curs'd, delicious blinkers
hae put me hyte,
and gart me weet my waukrife winkers, ↑返回顶部↑