字体:大 中 小
护眼
关灯
上一页
目录
下一章
The Authors Earnest Cry And Prayer (第4/4页)
s, a' your days, wi' sowps o' kail and brats o' claise, in spite o' a' the thievish kaes, that haunt st. jamie's! your humble poet sings an' prays, while rab his name is. postscript let half-starv'd slaves in warmer skies see future wines, rich-clust'ring, rise; their lot auld scotland ne're envies, but, blythe and frisky, she eyes her freeborn, martial boys tak aff their whisky. what tho' their phoebus kinder warms, while fragrance blooms ay charms, wheches range, in famish'd swarms, the sted groves; or, hounded forth, dishonour arms in hungry droves! their gun's a burden on their shouther; they downa bide the stink o' powther; their bauldest thought's a hank'ring swither to stan' or rin, till skelp—a shot—they're aff, a'throw'ther, to save their skin. but bring a san frae his hill, clap in his cheek a highland gill, say, such is royal gee's will, an' there's the foe! he has hought but how to kill twa at a blow. nae cauld, faied doubtings tease him; death es, wi' fearless eye he sees him; wi'bluidy hand a wele gies him; an' when he fa's, his latest draught o' breathin lea'es him in faint huzzas. sages their solemn een may steek, an' raise a philosophic reek, an' physically causes seek, in clime an' season; but tell me whisky's name in greek i'll tell the reason. scotland, my auld, respected mither! tho' whiles ye moistify your leather, till, whare ye sit on craps o' heather, ye tine your dam; freedom an' whisky gang thegither! take aff your dram!
上一页
目录
下一章