THE KING'S BIRTH-DAY IN EDINBURGH. If baudrons slip but to the door, I fear, I fear, She'll no lang shank upon all four Next day each hero tells his news And deeds that here forbid the Muse Her theme to swell,, Or time mair precious abuse Their crimes to tell. She'll rather to the fields resort, Whare music gars the day seem short, On gowany braes, you al Whare peerless Fancy hauds her court,+ And tunes her lays CALLER OYSTERS. Happy the man, who, free from care and strife In silken or in leathern purse retains A splendid shilling. He nor hears with pain New oyster's cry'd, nor sighs for cheerful ale. PHILLIPS. O' a' the waters that can hobble, And can reward the fisher's trouble, Or south or north, There's nane sae spacious and sae noble, As Firth of Forth. In her the skate and codlin sail; The eel, fu' supple, wags her tail; Wi' herrin, fleuk, and mackarel, And whytens dainty: ་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་ CALLER OYSTERS. Their spindleshanks the labsters trail, Auld Reikie's sons blithe faces wear; That brings in Neptune's caller cheer, New oysters fresh ; The halesomest and nicest gear O' fish or flesh. O! then we needna gie a plack Wha o' their drogs sae bauldly crack, As An' spread sic notions, Their stinking potions. gar their feckless patients tak Come, prie, frail man! for gin thou'rt sick, The oyster is a rare cathartic, |