elegy on the year 1788
for lords or kgs i dna ourn,
e&039;en let the die—for that they&039;re born:
but oh! prodigio to reflec&039;!
a towont, sirs, is gane to wreck!
o eighty-eight, thy sa&039; space,
what dire events hae taken pce!
of what enjoynts thou hast reft !
what a pickle thou has left !
the spanish epire&039;s tt a head,
and y auld teethless, bawtie&039;s dead:
the tulyie&039;s teugh &039;een pitt and fox,
and &039;een our aggie&039;s a wee cks;
the tane is ga, a bidy devil,
but to the hen-birds un civil;
the tither&039;s thg dour o&039; tread,
but better stuff ne&039;er cw&039;d a idd
ye isters, e ount the poupit,
an&039; cry till ye be hearse an&039; roupit,
for eighty-eight, he wished you weel,
an&039; gied ye a&039; baith ar an&039; al;
e&039;en onc a pck, and ony a peck,
ye ken yoursels, for little feck!
ye bonie sses, dight your e&039;en,
for o&039; you hae tt a frien&039;;
eighty-eight, ye ken, was taen,
what ye&039;ll ne&039;er hae to gie aga
observe the very nowt an&039; sheep,
how dowff an&039; daviely they creep;
nay, even the yirth itsel&039; does cry,
for e&039;nburgh wells are grutten dry
o eighty-ne, thou&039;s but a bairn,
an&039; no owre auld, i hope, to learn!
thou beardless boy, i pray tak care,
thou now hast got thy daddy&039;s chair;
nae handcuff&039;d, izl&039;d, hap-shackl&039;d rent,
but, like hisel, a full free ant,
be sure ye follow out the pn
nae waur than he did, honest an!
as uckle better as you can
january, 1, 1789
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