Page:Humorous poems.pdf/19

19

Food fills the wame, and keeps us livin,
Though life's a gift no worth receivin,
When heavy dragg'd wi' pine and grievin:
But oil'd by thee,
The wheels o' life gae down-hill scrievin,
Wi' rattlin glee.

Thou clears the head o' doited Lair;
Thou cheers the heart o' drooping Care;
Thou strings the nerves o' Labour sair,
At's weary toil;
Thou even brightens dark Despair
Wi' gloomy smile.

⟨Aft⟩, clad in massy siller weed;
Wi' Gentles thou erects thy head;
Yet humbly kind, in time of need,
The poor man's wine;
His wee drap parritch, or his bread,
Thou kitchens fine.

Thou art the life o' public haunts;
But thee, what were our fairs and rants
Even godly meetings o' the saints,
By thee inspir'd,
When gaping, they besiege the tents,
Are doubly fir'd.

That merry night we get the corn in,
⟨O⟩ sweetly then thou reams the horn in!
⟨Or⟩ reekin on a New-year's mornin
In cog or bicker,
And just a wee drap spiritual burn in,
And gusty sucker.