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The Poetry of Robert Burns

Edited by William Ernest Henley and Thomas F. Henderson
  
  

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TO SYMON GRAY
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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TO SYMON GRAY

I

Symon Gray, you're dull to-day!
Dullness with redoubled sway
Has seized the wits of Symon Gray.

II

Dear Symon Gray, the other day
When you sent me some rhyme,
I could not then just ascertain
Its worth for want of time;

III

But now to-day, good Mr. Gray,
I've read it o'er and o'er:
Tried all my skill, but find I'm still
Just where I was before.

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IV

We auld wives' minions gie our opinions,
Solicited or no;
Then of its fauts my honest thoughts
I'll give—and here they go:

V

Such damn'd bombást no age that's past
Can show, nor time to come;
So, Symon dear, your song I'll tear,
And with it wipe my bum.