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156 TONE-POETRY OF ROBERT BURNS |
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No. 174. Wi' braw new branks in meikle pride.
(Tune unknown.)
Wi' braw new branks in meikle pride,
And eke a braw new brechan, My Pegasus I'm got astride,
And up Parnassus pechin ; Whiles owre a bush wi' downward crush
The doited beastie stammers; Then up he gets, and off he sets
For sake o' Willie Chalmers.
I doubt na, lass, that weel-kenn'd name
May cost a pair o' blushes; I am nae stranger to your fame,
Nor his warm-urged wishes : Your bonie face, sae mild and sweet,
His honest heart enamours; And faith ! ye'll no be lost a whit,
Tho' wair'd on Willie Chalmers.
Auld Truth hersel might swear ye're fair,
And Honor safely back her ; And Modesty assume your air,
And ne'er a ane mistak her : And sic twa love-inspiring een
Might fire even holy palmers; Nae wonder then they've fatal been
To honest Willie Chalmers.
I doubt na Fortune may you shore
Some mim-mou'd, pouther'd priestie, Fu' lifted up wi' Hebrew lore,
And band upon his breastie : But O, what signifies to you
His lexicons and grammars? The feeling heart's the royal blue,
And that's wi' Willie Chalmers.
Some gapin, glowrin countra laird
May warsle for your favour ; May claw his lug, and straik his beard,
And hoast up some palaver. My bonie maid, before ye wed
Sic clumsy-witted hammers, Seek Heaven for help, and barefit skelp
Awa' wi' Willie Chalmers.
Forgive the Bard! my fond regard
For ane that shares my bosom Inspires my Muse to gie'm his dues,
For deil a hair I roose him. |
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