Epistle To Dr. Blacklock
ye ken yoursels my heart right proud is—
i need na vaunt
but i'll sned besoms, thraw saugh woodies,
before they want.
lord help me thro' this warld o' care!
i'm weary sick o't te and air!
not but i hae a richer share
than mony ithers;
but why should ae maer fare,
and a' men brithers?
e, firm resolve, take thou the van,
thou stalk o' carl-hemp in man!
a us mind, fai ne'er wan
a dy fair:
wha does the utmost that he ,
will whiles do mair.
but to clude my silly rhyme
(i'm st o' verse
Epistle To Dr. Blacklock(3/4)