Epistle To William Simson(4/8)
gs;
while irwin, lugar, ayr, an' doon
naebody sings.
th' illissus, tiber, thames, an' seine,
glide sweet in mounefu' line:
but willie, set your fit to mine,
an' cock your crest;
we'll gar our streams an' burnies shine
up wi' the best!
we'll sing auld coi's pins an' fells,
her moors red-brown wi' heather bells,
her banks an' braes, her dens and dells,
whare glorious walce
aft bure the gree, as story tells,
frae suthron billies.
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