On ev'ry new Birth-day ye fee, A humble Poet wishes ! My Bardship here, at your Levee, Is fure an uncouth fight to fee, Amang thae Birth-day dreffes I fee ye're complimented thrang, 'God fave the King !''s a cuckoo fang That's unco easy said ay; The Poets, too, a venal gang, Wi' rhymes weel-turn'd and ready, Wad gar you trow ye ne'er do wrang, But ay unerring fteady, On fic a day. III. For me! before a Monarch's face, For neither Penfion, Poft, nor Place, There's monie waur, been o' the Race, And aiblins ane been better Than You this day. IV. 'Tis very true, my fov'reign King, My skill may weel be doubted: But Facts are cheels that winna ding, An' downa be difputed: VOL. I. I Your Your Royal Neft, beneath Your wing, Is e'en right reft an' clouted, And now the third part of the string, Than did ae day. V. Far be't frae me that I aspire But, faith! I muckle doubt, my Sire, Ye've trufted Miniftration To chaps, wha, in a barn or byre, Wad better fill'd their ftation Than courts yon day. VI. VI. And now ye've gien auld Britain peace, Your fair taxation does her fleece, Till fhe has fcarce a tefter For me, thank God, my life's a leafe, Or, faith! I fear, that, wi' the geese, I fhortly boost to pafture I' the craft fome day. VII. I'm no miftrufting Willie Pitt, When taxes he enlarges, (An' Will's a true guid fallow's Get, A Name not Envy fpairges), That he intends to pay your debt, Abridge your bonie Barges An' Boats this day. VIII. Adieu, my Liege! may Freedom geck An' may Ye rax Corruption's neck, And gie her for diffection! But fince I'm here, I'll no neglect, In loyal, true affection, To pay your Queen, with due refpect, My fealty an' fubjection This great Birth-day. |