we father;
an&039; hae a s o&039; rhy-ware
wi&039; ane anither
the four-gill chap, we&039;se gar hi ctter,
an&039; kirsen hi wi&039; reek water;
syne we&039;ll sit down an&039; tak our whitter,
to cheer our heart;
an&039; faith, we&039;se be acated better
before we part
awa ye selfish, war&039;ly race,
wha thk that havs, sense, an&039; grace,
ev&039;n love an&039; friendship should give pce
to catch—the—pck!
i dna like to see your face,
nor hear your crack
but ye who cial pleasure chars
whose hearts the tide of kdness wars,
who hold your beg on the ters,
“each aid the others,”
e to y bowl, e to y ars,
y friends, y brothers!
but, to ncde y ng epistle,
as y auld pen&039;s worn to the gristle,
a les frae you wad gar fissle,
who a, ost fervent,
while i can either sg or whistle,
your friend and servant
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