Epistle To J. Lapraik, An Old Scottish Bard
wha think that havins, sense, an' grace,
ev'n love an' friendship should give pce
to catch—the—pck!
i dinna like to see your face,
nor hear your crack.
but ye whom social pleasure charms
whose hearts the tide of kindness warms,
who hold your being oerms,
“each aid the others,”
e to my bowl, e to my arms,
my friends, my brothers!
but, to clude my le,
as my auld pen's worn to the gristle,
twa lines frae you wad gar me fissle,
who am, most fervent,
while i either sing or whistle,
your friend and servant.