Page:Four excellent songs (10).pdf/5

 The sneeshin’ mill—the cap gaed round,
 * The joke, the crack an’ a’, man,

’Bout markets, trade, and politics,
 * To wear the time awa, man.

Ye never saw a blither set O’ queer auld-fashion’d bodies met. For fient a grain o’ pride ner pet, Nor eating care got foeting there; But friendship rare, aye found sincere,
 * And hearts without a flaw, man.

To cringing courtiers kings may blaw
 * How rich they are and great, man.

But we outstrip their kingships far
 * Wi’ a’ their regal state, man.

For Lucky’s swats sae brisk and fell, An’ T——’s snuff sae sharp and snell, Garr’d ilk ane quite forget himsel’; Made young the auld, inflam’d the cauld. And fir’d the saul with projects bauld,
 * That dar’d the power o’ fate, man.

But what are a’ sic mighty schemes
 * When ance the spell is broke, man,

A set o’ maut inspired whims
 * That end in perfect smoke, man.

An’ what like some disaster keen Can chase the glamour frae our een, And bring us to eursel’s again; As was the fate o’ this auld pate, When that night late I took the gate
 * As crouse as ony cock, man.