Page:Kail-brose of aula (sic) Scotland.pdf/4

 4 with whisky the full of a large water stand, Where each clever fellow may drink all he‘s able, and toast all his friends with a bumper in hand.

My beard shall be shaven, my hair neat with powder, whilst I sit in state in holiday clothes, With a brave singing topper plac‘d at my left shoulder, a pipe to smock out, and a jug at my nose,

Dull Drawer be quicker, & bring us more liquor, sweet piper come squeeze up our leather and play, And when you are dry, then apply to the pitcher, we‘ll drink and carouse til we see break of day,

We count them but aeses who wait upon glasses, such muddling and fudding is all but a sham, It is only a wasting of time that is precious, commend me to him that would fugle the cann.

When my death bell is toll'd (for life‘s but a fashion) no crocodile tear shall be shed at my wake, Nor counterfeit friends shall walk in procession, Ion y desire no moan they shall make

I could not endure to lie under such beagles, relating a parcel of nonsense ill rhym‘d, And three merry pipers to tune it up briskly, but yet all the time there's no moan to be made.

Early in the morning when day it is dawning, my funeral procession may then walk along,