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IX. MISCELLANEOUS 311 |
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Daddy Auld ! Daddy Auld,
There 's a tod in the fauld, A tod meikle waur than the clerk ;
Though ye do little skaith,
Ye'll be in at the death, And gif ye canna bite, ye may bark, Daddy Auld! And gif ye canna bite, ye may bark.
Holy Will, Holy Will,
There was wit in your skull When ye pilfer'd the alms o' the poor;
The timmer is scant,
When ye're taen for a saunt, Wha should swing in a rape for an hour— Holy Will! Wha should swing in a rape for an hour.
Poet Burns! Poet Burns, Wi' your priest-skelping turns, Why desert ye your auld native shire ? Your Muse is a gipsy— E'en tho' she were tipsy, She could ca' us nae waur than we are,— Poet Burns! Ye could ca' us nae waur than we are.
PRESENTATION VERSES TO CORRESPONDENTS.
Factor John ! Factor John,
Whom the Lord made alone, And ne'er made anither, thy peer,
Thy poor servant, the Bard,
In respectful regard, He presents thee this token sincere, Factor John ! He presents thee this token sincere.
Afton's Laird! Afton's Laird,
When your pen can be spar'd, A copy of this I bequeath,
On the same sicker score
As I mention'd before, To that trusty auld worthy, Clackleith, Afton's Laird ! To that trusty auld worthy, Clackleith.
No. 330. Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare.
Tune : Chevy Chase (see No. 267 or 274).
Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare
As ever trod on aim; But now she's floating down the Nith, And past the mouth o' Cairn. |
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