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ANSWER TO BRUCE.
THERE was a Clerk, i' the neist door,
Cam' to our town; had lear gilore;
And tauk'd about ane Pythagore,
Wha had a thought,
His saul wad tak, when life was o'er,
An ither bught;
Cam' to our town; had lear gilore;
And tauk'd about ane Pythagore,
Wha had a thought,
His saul wad tak, when life was o'er,
An ither bught;
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And lowp into the bodie o' ane,
Now in the shape o' a wee wean;
And after shaw the self-same vein,
O' wit and sense,
He had, before death wi' a stane
Dang out his brains.
Now in the shape o' a wee wean;
And after shaw the self-same vein,
O' wit and sense,
He had, before death wi' a stane
Dang out his brains.
I leught and ca'd him a daft chiel,
And thought his head in a peat creel;
But now I b'lieve him verra weel,
And gie him faith;
Ye'r Allan Ramsey or the Deil.
Upo' my aith.
And thought his head in a peat creel;
But now I b'lieve him verra weel,
And gie him faith;
Ye'r Allan Ramsey or the Deil.
Upo' my aith.
His saul has soomit o'er the burn,
To tak in you an ither turn,
And be a while in life's sojourn
Sic as he was,
Near Frith of Forth where he was born,
And liv'd his days.
To tak in you an ither turn,
And be a while in life's sojourn
Sic as he was,
Near Frith of Forth where he was born,
And liv'd his days.
I ken ye Allan verra weel,
Though you may hardly ken your-sel'.
But ah! your sang is nae sae shill,
Nor pipe sae soft;
The voice ye had, as clear's a bell,
'S a weething dowff'd.
Though you may hardly ken your-sel'.
But ah! your sang is nae sae shill,
Nor pipe sae soft;
The voice ye had, as clear's a bell,
'S a weething dowff'd.
But's nae your fau't, my canty Callan,
That ye fa' short o' the Auld Allan;
There's neither Highland man, nor Lallan',
That's here the same;
But finds him scrimpit o' the talen'
He had at hame.
That ye fa' short o' the Auld Allan;
There's neither Highland man, nor Lallan',
That's here the same;
But finds him scrimpit o' the talen'
He had at hame.
What's mair expect'd here i' the west,
Sae near where night taks off his vest
And his grey breeks, and gaes to rest,
And the lang day
Is dock'd o' several hours at best,
Sic as on Tay.
Sae near where night taks off his vest
And his grey breeks, and gaes to rest,
And the lang day
Is dock'd o' several hours at best,
Sic as on Tay.
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I find mysel' degenerate,
And nae sic Aqua as ye gat;
In Clachan horns wi' comrades met,
To tak a gill;
And though come stacherin hame fu' late;
Yet did nae ill.
And nae sic Aqua as ye gat;
In Clachan horns wi' comrades met,
To tak a gill;
And though come stacherin hame fu' late;
Yet did nae ill.
The lads got gumption by their drink;
And Carls could better speak and think;
Tak aff a bonnet wi' a clink,
And say a grace;
And lug out scripture verra distinc',
Frae ony place.
And Carls could better speak and think;
Tak aff a bonnet wi' a clink,
And say a grace;
And lug out scripture verra distinc',
Frae ony place.
But here the drappie that ye need,
Maun ay some wicked brulzie breed;
Gie ane anither's claes a screed,
An' aften seen,
To gash wi' teeth, or tak in head,
To stap the cen.
Maun ay some wicked brulzie breed;
Gie ane anither's claes a screed,
An' aften seen,
To gash wi' teeth, or tak in head,
To stap the cen.
Unless it be as folks o' lear,
Say a' things gradually impair,
And human nature wears thread-bare,
And turns;—Gude help's;
Ae year auld, and twa year war',
Like the tod's whelps.
Say a' things gradually impair,
And human nature wears thread-bare,
And turns;—Gude help's;
Ae year auld, and twa year war',
Like the tod's whelps.
Be this as 't may, it does me guid,
To meet wi' ane o' my ane bluid,
I was sae glad a' maist ran wud
To be thegither;
But I maun now, gae chew my cud,
And had my blether.
To meet wi' ane o' my ane bluid,
I was sae glad a' maist ran wud
To be thegither;
But I maun now, gae chew my cud,
And had my blether.
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