Epistle To John Rankine(3/6)
l expect,
yon sang ye'll sen't, wi' ie care,
and no .
tho' faith, sma' heart hae i to sing!
my muse dow scarcely spread her wing;
i've py'd mysel a bonie spring,
an' danc'd my fill!
i'd better gaen an' sair't the king,
at bunkjer's hill.
'twas ae night tely, in my fun,
i gaed a rovin' wi' the gun,
an' brought a paitrick to the grun'—
a bonie hen;
and, as the twilight was begun,
thought nane wad ken.
th
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