On A Scotch Bard, Gone To The West Indies
him weel,
an' hap him in cozie biel:
ye'll find him aye a dainty chiel,
an' fou o' glee:
he wad na wrang'd the vera deil,
that's owre the sea.
farewell, my rhyme-posing billie!
your native soil was right ill-willie;
but may ye flourish like a lily,
now bonilie!
i'll toast you in my hindmost gillie,
tho' owre the sea!