Scotch Drink（2 / 2）

then burnewin comes on like death

at every chap.

nae mercy then, for airn or steel;

the brawnie, banie, ploughman chiel,

brings hard owrehip, wi' sturdy wheel,

the strong forehammer,

till block an' studdie ring an reel,

wi' dinsome clamour.

when skirling weanies see the light,

though maks the gossips clatter bright,

how fumblin' cuiffs their dearies slight;

wae worth the name!

nae howdie gets a social night,

or plack frae them.

when neibors anger at a plea,

an' just as wud as wud can be,

how easy can the barley brie

cement the quarrel!

it's aye the cheapest lawyer's fee,

to taste the barrel.

alake! that e'er my muse has reason,

to wyte her countrymen wi' treason!

but mony daily weet their weason

wi' liquors nice,

an' hardly, in a winter season,

e'er spier her price.

wae worth that brandy, burnin trash!

fell source o' mony a pain an' brash!

twins mony a poor, doylt, drucken hash,

o' half his days;

an' sends, beside, auld scotland's cash

to her warst faes.

ye scots, wha wish auld scotland well!

ye chief, to you my tale i tell,

poor, plackless devils like mysel'!

it sets you ill,

wi' bitter, dearthfu' wines to mell,

or foreign gill.

may gravels round his blather wrench,

an' gouts torment him, inch by inch,

what twists his gruntle wi' a glunch

o' sour disdain,

out owre a glass o' whisky-punch

wi' honest men!

o whisky! soul o' plays and pranks!

accept a bardie's gratfu' thanks!

when wanting thee, what tuneless cranks

are my poor verses!

thou comes—they rattle in their ranks,

at ither's a-s!

thee, ferintosh! o sadly lost!

scotland lament frae coast to coast!

now colic grips, an' barkin hoast

may kill us a';

for loyal forbes' charter'd boast

is ta'en awa?

thae curst horse-leeches o' the' excise,

wha mak the whisky stells their prize!

haud up thy han', deil! ance, twice, thrice!

there, seize the blinkers!

an' bake them up in brunstane pies

for poor damn'd drinkers.

fortune! if thou'll but gie me still

hale breeks, a scone, an' whisky gill,

an' rowth o' rhyme to rave at will,

tak a' the rest,

an' deal't about as thy blind skill

directs thee best.