Page:The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima Edition, Volume 8, 1922.djvu/563

NEW POEMS But, freend, ye ken how me an' you,

The ling-lang lanely winter through,

Keep'd a guid speerit up, an' true

To lore Horatian,

We aye the ither bottle drew

To inclination.

Sae let us in the comin' days

Stand sicker on our auncient ways—

The strauchtest road in a' the maze

Since Eve ate apples;

An' let the winter weet our cla'es—

We'll weet oor thrapples.

CLXXVII

AD MARTIALEM

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