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Thae curs'd loch-leeches o' the Excise,
Wha mak the whisky-stells their prize,
Haud up thy han', deil, ance, twice, thrice!
Their seize the blinkers
And bake them up in brunstane pies,
For puir d—n'd drinken.
Wha mak the whisky-stells their prize,
Haud up thy han', deil, ance, twice, thrice!
Their seize the blinkers
And bake them up in brunstane pies,
For puir d—n'd drinken.
Fortune, if thou'lt but gie me still
Hale breeks, a scene, a whisky-gill
And rowthe o' rhyme to rove at will,
Tak' a' the rest,
And deal't about as thy blind skill
Directs thee best.
Burns.
Hale breeks, a scene, a whisky-gill
And rowthe o' rhyme to rove at will,
Tak' a' the rest,
And deal't about as thy blind skill
Directs thee best.
Burns.
THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.
It was a summer evening
Old Kaspar's work was done;
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun.
And, by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
Old Kaspar's work was done;
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun.
And, by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.
She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet,
In playing there had found.
He came to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round.
Roll something large and round,
Which he beside the rivulet,
In playing there had found.
He came to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round.
Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh,
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
And with a natural sigh,
