Old Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferr'd, What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know;...
Whose is that noble dauntless brow? And whose that eye of fire? And whose that generous princely mien, E'en rooted foes admire? Stranger! to justly show that brow, And mark that eye of fire,...
Thou, who thy honour as thy God rever'st, Who, save thy mind's reproach, nought earthly fear'st, To thee this votive offering I impart, The tearful tribute of a broken heart....
Wae worth thy power, thou cursed leaf, Fell source o' a' my woe an' grief; For lack o' thee I've lost my lass, For lack o' thee I scrimp my glass. I see the children of affliction...
A' ye wha live by sowps o' drink, A' ye wha live by crambo-clink, A' ye wha live and never think, Come, mourn wi' me! Our billie's gien us a' a jink, An' owre the sea. ...