lent,
still higher may they heeze ye
in bliss, till fate some day is sent
for ever to release ye
frae care that day.
for you, young potentate o'wales,
i tell yhness fairly,
down pleasure's stream, wi' swelling sails,
i'm tauld ye're driving rarely;
but some day ye may gnaw your nails,
an' curse your folly sairly,
that e'er ye brak diana's pales,
or rattl'd dice wi' charlie
by night or day.
yet aft a ragged cowt's been known,
to mak a noble aiver;
so, ye may doucely fill the throne,
A Dream(6/9)