University of Virginia Library

[Translation of Horace: Book I, Ode V]

What young Raw Muisted Beau Bred at his Glass
now wilt thou on a Rose's Bed Carress
wha niest to thy white Breasts wilt thow intice
with hair unsnooded and without thy Stays
O Bonny Lass wi' thy Sweet Landart Air
how will thy fikle humour gie him care
when e'er thou takes the fling strings, like the wind
that Jaws the Ocean—thou'lt disturb his Mind
when thou looks smirky kind & claps his cheek
to poor friends then he'l hardly look or speak

341

the Coof belivest-na but Right soon he'll find
thee Light as Cork & wavring as the Wind
on that slid place where I 'maist brake my Bains
to be a warning I Set up twa Stains
that nane may venture there as I hae done
unless wi' frosted Nails he Clink his Shoon