“Ne quis modici transiliat munera Liberi.” – CAR. I., 18.
YE’RE leavin’ ‘s Jame! nae langer noo
To rank amon’ the wanters –
By way o’ waddin’ gift fra Hugh
Accepp thir twa decanters.
They’re fill’d wi’ Scotland’s noblest juice –
An’ whaur’s a nobler liquor?
They’ll aiblins help to heat your hoose,
An’ mak’ your union siccar.
–
Ye’ll hae your joys: John Barleycorn
May wi’ advantage share them!
Ye’ll hae your griefs: fill up your horn –
He’ll gie ye hert to bear them!
Tak’ aff your dram an’ crack your joke
Hoo-ever Fortun’ vary;
It’s only aye to watter folk
She’s cauldrife an’ contrairy!
–
Ye’re puir; but, Jamie, tak’ nae thocht, –
The maist o’ folk are born till’t!
Dae weel; syne if ye’re fash’d wi’ ocht,
Lift up a hielant horn till’t!
We’ve a’ oor troubles mair or less,
But to cry oot – it’s weak-like;
Regairdit thro’ a social gless
The warld’s nane sae bleak-like!
–
Yet, when ye at the board unbend
At nae unworthy season,
Be mindfu’ aye to mak’ an end
Conformable to reason.
For aince if owre the boon’s they win,
The passions quickly speak oot,
An’ secrets, that are safer in,
Are likelier then to leak oot.
–
Then self-indulgence, lang alloo’d,
Becomes a second nature
To change the mainner an’ the mood,
An’ e’en the very feature.
There’s Rabbie wi’ the muckle mooth
That married Meg that mantit –
He drank himsel’ into a drooth,
An’ noo he canna want it!
–
An’ then there’s gauger Pate – but he
‘S nae waur than what his wife is;
Ye’ll read it in his blecken’d ee
What his domestic life is.
Tak’ warnin’, Jamie, by their case,
An’ learn fra their example,
While pleasure’s in the mod’rate use,
The mod’rate use is ample.
