Page:Beauties of Burn's poems.pdf/69

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But, faith, I muckle doubt, my Sire,
 Ye've trusted 'Ministration
To chaps wha in a barn or byre
 —ad better fill their station
Than Courts yon day.

And now ye've gien auld Britain peace,
 Her broken shins to plaister,
Your sair taxation does her fleece,
 Till she has scarce at tester.
For me, thank God! my life's a lease,
 Nae bargain wearing faster,
Or, faith, I fear, that wi' the geese
 I shortly boot to pasture
I the craft some day.

I'm no mistrusting Willie Pitt,
 When taxes he enlarges.
(And Will's a true gude fallow's gett,
 A name not envy spairges),
That he intends to pay your debt,
 And lessen a' your charges:
But, G—d-sake! let nae saving fit
 Abridge your bonny Barges
And Boats this day.

Adieu, my Liegelǃ—my freedom geck
 Beneath your high protection;
And may you rax corruption's neck,
 And gie her for dissection.
But sin I'm here, I'll no neglect,
 In loyal, true affection,
To pay your Queen, with due respect,
 My fealty and subjection
This great Birth-day.