The works of Allan Ramsay edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law] |
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The Ass and Brock.
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 | The works of Allan Ramsay |  |
The Ass and Brock.
Upon a time a solemn Ass
Was dand'ring throw a narrow Pass,
Where he forgether'd with a Brock,
Wha him saluted frae a Rock;
Speer'd how he did,—how Markets gade,—
What's a' ye'r News,—and how is Trade,—
How does Jock Stot and Lucky Yad,
Tam Tup, and Bucky honest Lad?
Reply'd the Ass, and made a Heel,
E'en a' the better that ye'r weel.
But Jackanapes and snarling Fitty
Are grown sae wicked, (some ca's't witty)
That we wha solid are and grave,
Nae Peace on our ain Howms can have;
While we are bisy gathering Gear,
Upon a Brae they'll sit and sneer.
If ane shou'd chance to breathe behin',
Or ha'e some Slaver at his Chin,
Or 'gainst a Tree shou'd rub his Arse;
That's Subject for a winsome Farce:
There draw they me, as void of thinking,
And you, my Dear, famous for stinking;
And the bauld birsy Bair your Frien',
A Glutton dirty to the Een,
By laughing Dogs and Apes abus'd,
Wha is't can thole to be sae us'd!
Was dand'ring throw a narrow Pass,
Where he forgether'd with a Brock,
Wha him saluted frae a Rock;
Speer'd how he did,—how Markets gade,—
What's a' ye'r News,—and how is Trade,—
How does Jock Stot and Lucky Yad,
Tam Tup, and Bucky honest Lad?
Reply'd the Ass, and made a Heel,
E'en a' the better that ye'r weel.
But Jackanapes and snarling Fitty
Are grown sae wicked, (some ca's't witty)
That we wha solid are and grave,
Nae Peace on our ain Howms can have;
While we are bisy gathering Gear,
Upon a Brae they'll sit and sneer.
If ane shou'd chance to breathe behin',
Or ha'e some Slaver at his Chin,
Or 'gainst a Tree shou'd rub his Arse;
That's Subject for a winsome Farce:
42
And you, my Dear, famous for stinking;
And the bauld birsy Bair your Frien',
A Glutton dirty to the Een,
By laughing Dogs and Apes abus'd,
Wha is't can thole to be sae us'd!
Dear me! heh! wow!—and say ye sae,—
Return'd the Brock,—I'm unko wae
To see this Flood of Wit break in,
O scour about, and ca't a Sin;
Stout are your Lungs, your Voice is loud;
And ought will pass upon the Crowd.
Return'd the Brock,—I'm unko wae
To see this Flood of Wit break in,
O scour about, and ca't a Sin;
Stout are your Lungs, your Voice is loud;
And ought will pass upon the Crowd.
The
Ass thought this Advice was right,
And bang'd away with a' his Might;
Stood on a Know amang the Cattle,
And furiously 'gainst Wit did rattle:
Pour'd out a Deluge of dull Phrases,
While Dogs and Apes leugh, and made Faces.
Thus a' the angry Ass held forth,
Serv'd only to augment their Mirth.
And bang'd away with a' his Might;
Stood on a Know amang the Cattle,
And furiously 'gainst Wit did rattle:
Pour'd out a Deluge of dull Phrases,
While Dogs and Apes leugh, and made Faces.
Thus a' the angry Ass held forth,
Serv'd only to augment their Mirth.
| The works of Allan Ramsay | |