e to gie the jads a clearin
in fair py yet.
my loss i mourn, but not repent it;
i'll seek my pursie whare i tint it;
ao the indies i were wonted,
some traip hour
by some sweet elf i'll yet be dinted;
then vive l'amour!
faites mes baissemains respectueuses,
to seal sister susie,
and ho lucky; no to roose you,
ye may be proud,
that sic a couple fate allows ye,
to grace your blood.
nae mair at present i measure,
an' trowth my rhymin ware's reasure;
but when in ayr, some half-hour's leisure,
be't light,
Epistle To Major Logan(5/6)