The Poetry of Robert Burns Edited by William Ernest Henley and Thomas F. Henderson |
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ON JOHN RANKINE |
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 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
ON JOHN RANKINE
Ae day, as Death, that gruesome carl,Was driving to the tither warl'
A mixtie-maxtie, motley squad
And monie a guilt-bespotted lad:
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And thieves of every rank and station,
From him that wears the star and garter
To him that wintles in a halter:
Asham'd himself to see the wretches,
He mutters, glow'ring at the bitches:—
‘By God I'll not be seen behint them,
Nor 'mang the sp'ritual core present them,
Without at least ae honest man
To grace this damn'd infernal clan!’
By Adamhill a glance he threw,
‘Lord God!’ quoth he, ‘I have it now,
There's just the man I want, i' faith!’
And quickly stoppit Rankine's breath.
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |