Poems & songs . perplex them,They mak enow themsels to vex them;And aye the less they hae to sturt them,In like proportion less will hurt them. A country fellow at the pleugh,His acres tilld, hes right eneugh;A country girl at her wheel,Her dizzens done, shes unco weel:But Gentlemen, and Ladies warst,Wi evndown want o wark are loiter, lounging, lank, and lazy;Tho deil haet ails them, yet uneasy;Their days insipid, dull, and tasteless ;Their nights unquiet, lang, and restless ;And een their sports, their balls and races,Their gallopin thro public places,Theres sic parade, sic pomp, a
Poems & songs . perplex them,They mak enow themsels to vex them;And aye the less they hae to sturt them,In like proportion less will hurt them. A country fellow at the pleugh,His acres tilld, hes right eneugh;A country girl at her wheel,Her dizzens done, shes unco weel:But Gentlemen, and Ladies warst,Wi evndown want o wark are loiter, lounging, lank, and lazy;Tho deil haet ails them, yet uneasy;Their days insipid, dull, and tasteless ;Their nights unquiet, lang, and restless ;And een their sports, their balls and races,Their gallopin thro public places,Theres sic parade, sic pomp, and art,The joy can scarcely reach the heart. The men cast out in party matches,Then sowther a in deep debauches;Ae night theyre mad wi drink and whoring,Neist day their life is past enduring. The ladies arm-in-arm in clusters,As great and gracious a as sisters ;But hear their absent thoughts o ither,Theyre a run deils and jads owre the wee bit cup and platie,They sip the scandal potion pretty :. +6 POEMS BY ROBERT BURNS. By this, the sun was out o sight,And darker gloaming brought the night:The bum-clock hummd wi lazy drone ;The kye stood rowtin i the loan :When up they gat and shook their lugs,Rejoicd they werena men, but dogs 3And each took aff his several way,Resolvd to meet some ither day. ELEGY ON CAPTAIN MATTHEW HENDERSON,5 A GENTLEMAN WHO HELD THE PATENT FOR HIS HONOURS IMMEDIATELYFROM ALMIGHTY GOD. Should the poor be flattered?—Shakespeare. But now his radiant course is run, For Matthews course was bright:His soul was like the glorious sun, A matchless heavnly light! O Death ! thou tyrant fell and bloody! The meikle devil wi a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie, Oer hurcheon hides,And like stock-fish come oer his studdie Wi thy auld sides ! Hes gane ! hes gane ! hes frae us torn ! The ae best fellow eer was born! Thee, Matthew, Natures sel shall mourn By wood and wild,Where, haply, Pity strays forlorn, Frae man exild ! Ye hills ! near neebors
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Keywords: ., bookauthorburnsrob, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1875
