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See the smoking bowl before us!
Mark our jovial ragged ring! Round and round take up the chorus, And in raptures let us sing.
A fig for those by law protected !
Liberty's a glorious feast !
Churches built to please the priest.
What is title? what is treasure ?
What is reputation's care? If we lead a life of pleasure,
'Tis no matter how or where.
With the ready trick and fable,
Round we wander all the day? And at night, in barn or stable,
Hug our doxies on the hay.
Does the train-attended carriage
Through the country lighter rove? Does the sober bed of marriage
Witness brighter scenes of love ?
Life is all a variorum,
We regard not how it goes; Let them cant about decorum
Who have characters to lose.
Here's to budgets, bags, and wallets!
Here's to all the wandering train! Here's our ragged brats and callets!
One and all cry out-Amen!
A WINTER NIGHT. WHEN biting Boreas, fell and doure, Sharp shivers through the leafless bower; When Phoebus gi’es a short-lived glower
Far south the lift,
Or whirling drift:
Down headlong hurl.
O' winter war,
Beneath a scar.
Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing,
What comes othee?
An' close thy ee?
E’en you on murdering errands toiled,
My heart forgets,
Sore on you beats.
Now Phæbe, in her midnight reign,
Rose in my soul,
Slow, solemn, stole :
Vengeful malice unrepenting,
See stern Oppression's iron grip,
Truth, weeping, tells the mournful tale,
The parasite empoisoning her ear,
With all the servile wretches in the rear,
And eyes the simple rustic hind,
Some coarser substance, unrefined,
Where, where is Love's fond, tender throe,
Mark maiden innocence a prey
Shunning soft Pity's rising sway,
Perhaps, this hour, in Misery's squalid nest,
She strains your infant to her joyless breast, And with a mother's fears shrinks at the rocking blast!
Oh, ye, who, sunk in beds of down,
I heard nae mair, for Chanticleer
Shook off the pouthery snaw,
A cottage-rousing craw.
But deep this truth impressed my mind
Through all his works abroad,
The most resembles God.
TO A LOUSE,
HA! whare ye gaur, ye crowlin' ferlie'
Owre gauze and lace;
On sic a place.
Sae fine a lady!
On some poor body.
In shoals and nations;
Your thick plantations.
Till ye've got on it,
O' Miss's bonnet.
Or fell, red smeddum,
Wad dress your droddum!