« ElőzőTovább »
To the PRINCIPAL and PROFESSORS of the University of St. Andrews, on their superb Treat to DR SAMUEL JOHNSON.
ST ANDREW's town may look right gawsy,
Regents! my winsome billy boys!
'Bout him you've made an unco noise; Nae doubt, for him your bells wad clink, To find him upon Eden's brink;
And a' things nicely set in order,
Wad keep him on the Fifan border.
I'se warrant, now, frae France and Spain
Baith cooks and scullions mony ane,
To fleg frae a' your craigs the roup,
But hear, my lads! gin I'd been there,
To cow and horse, and sicken beast;
While, in Scots ground, this growth was common
To gust the gab o' man and woman.
Tak tent, ye Regents! then, and hear
My list o' gudely hameil gear ;
Sic as hae aften rax'd the wyme
O' blyther fallows mony a time;
Imprimis, then, a haggis fat,
Weel tottled in a seything pat,
Secundo, then, a gude sheep's head, Whase hide was singit, never flea'd, And four black trotters clad wi' girsle, Bedown his throat had learn'd to hirsle. What think ye, niest o' gude fat brose, To clag his ribs, a dainty dese? And white and bluidy puddings routh, Το
gar the Doctor skirl, "O Drouth!"
Whan he could never houp to merit
But thraw his nose, and birze, and pegh,
Then, let his wisdom girn and snarl
And learn, that, maugre o' his wyme,
Drummond, lang syne, o' Hawthornden,
The wyliest and best o' men,
Has gien you dishes ane or mae,
That wad hae gar'd his grinders play,
Not to "Roast Beef (4)," old England's life! But to the Auld "East nook o' Fife (5)," Where Craillian crafts cou'd weel hae gien Skate-rumples to hae clear'd his een ;
Then, niest, whan Samy's heart was faintin, He lang'd for skate to mak him wanton,
Ah, willawins for Scotland now!
Wha thro' the week, till sunday's speal,
Devall then, Sirs, and never send For daintiths to regale a friend;
Or, like a torch at baith ends burnin,
Your house will soon grow mirk and mournin !
What's this I hear some cynic say (6) ?—
Robin, ye loun! its nae fair play;
Is their nae ither subject rifə
To clap your thumb upon but Fife?
Gie owre, young man! you'll meet your cornin Than caption waur, or charge o' hornin;