send epistle to davie
a brother poet
auld neibour,
i&039; three tis doubly o&039;er your debtor,
for your auld-farrant, frien&039;ly letter;
tho&039; i aun say&039;t i doubt ye ftter,
ye speak sae fair;
for y puir, silly, rhy ctter
less aun sair
hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle,
ng ay your elbuck jk diddle,
to cheer you thro&039; the weary widdle
o&039; war&039;ly cares;
till bars&039; bars kdly cuddle
your auld grey hairs
but davie, d, i&039; red ye&039;re gikit;
i&039; tauld the e ye hae negleckit;
an, gif it&039;s sae, ye sud by lickit
until ye fyke;
sic haun&039;s as you sud ne&039;er be faikit,
be ha&039;t wha like
for , i&039; on parnass&039; brk,
riv the words to gar the clk;
whiles dazed wi&039; love, whiles dazed wi&039; drk,
wi&039; jads or ans;
an&039; whiles, but aye owre te, i thk
braw ber lesns
of a&039; the thoughtless ns o&039; an,
n&039; to the bardie cn;
except it be idle pn
o&039; rhy clk,
the devil haet,—that i sud ban—
they ever thk
nae thought, nae view, nae sche o&039; liv,
nae cares to gie joy or griev,
but jt the pouchie put the neive ,
an&039; while ought&039;s there,
then, hiltie, skiltie, we gae scriev&039;,
an&039; fash nae air
leeze on rhy! it&039;s aye a treasure,
y chief, aaist y only pleasure;
at ha, a-fiel&039;, at wark, or leisure,
the e, poor hizzie!
tho&039; rough an&039; raploch be her asure,
she&039;s seldo zy
haud to the e, y datie davie:
the warl&039; ay py you ony a shavie;
but for the e, she&039;ll never leave ye,
tho&039; e&039;er sae puir,
na, even tho&039; lip wi&039; the spavie
frae door tae door
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