“Rapiamus, amici,
Occasionem de die, dumque virent genua.” – CAR. V., 13.
AN angry tempest, roarin’ lood,
Is broken lowse an’ ragin’ free;
The knock-wud groans wi’ anguish boo’d,
An’ rocks an’ writhes the moanin’ sea.
See whaur in whirlin’ shooers they flee,
The sprays o’ ocean, owre the main!
See whaur the leaves o’ buss an’ tree
Gang streamin’, streamin’ owre the plain!
–
Let’s tak occasion fra the day
To triumph owre a thrawart fate,
An’, ere auld age forbids we may,
Assert oor independent state.
The wun’s that at the wundie beat
May tame the tod an’ cowe the craw;
But we, wha rank a higher rate,
Will lauch at Winter’s wildest blaw!
–
Bring oot the jorum! there’s a drap
That should be gurglin’ i’ the wime o’t;
An’, while the storm flees owre oor tap,
We’ll toom the cog, an’ hae a time o’t!
A cheerfu’ quaich – an’ whaur’s the crime o’t?
Or mebbe twa – we’ll no’ get fou!
Droon Daddy Care, an’ mak’ a rhyme o’t,
An’ face the warl’ the morn anew!
