btless, great distress!
yet then tent could make us blest;
ev'n then, sometimes, we'd snatch a taste
of truest happiness.
the ho heart that's free frae a'
intended fraud uile,
however fortune kick the ba',
has aye some cause to smile;
an' mind still, you'll find still,
a fort this nae sma';
nae mair then we'll care then,
nae farther we fa'.
what tho', like oners of air,
we wander out, we know not where,
but either house or hal',
yet nature's charms, the hills and woods,
the swe
Epistle To Davie, A Brother Poet(3/10)