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The works of Allan Ramsay

edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law]

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To R--- H--- B---, an ODE.
  
  
  
  
  
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231

To R--- H--- B---, an ODE.

Nullam Vare sacra vite prius severis arborem,
Circa mite solum Tiburis & mænia Catili.
Hor.

O B---, cou'd these Fields of thine
Bear as in Gaul the juicy Vine,
How sweet the bonny Grape wou'd shine
On Wau's where now,
Your Apricocks and Peaches fine
Their Branches bow.
Since humane Life is but a Blink,
Why should we its short Joys sink;
He disna live that canna link
The Glass about,
When warm'd with Wine, like Men we think,
And grow mair stout.
The cauldrife Carlies clog'd wi' Care,
Wha gathering Gear gang hyt and gare,
If ramn'd we red, they rant and rair
Like mirthfu' Men,
It soothly shaws them they can spare,
A rowth to spend.
What Soger when with Wine he's bung
Did e'er complain he had been dung,
Or of his Toil, or empty Spung,
Na, o'er his Glass,
Nought but braw Deeds imploy his Tongue,
Or some sweet Lass.

232

Yet Trouth, 'tis proper we should stint
Our sells to a fresh mod'rate Pint,
Why should we (the blyth Blessing) mint
To waist or spill,
Since, aften, when our Reason's tint
We may do ill.
Let's set these Hair-brain'd Fowk in View,
That when they're stupid, mad and fow
Do brutal Deeds, which aft they rue
For a' their Days,
Which frequently prove very few
To such as these.
Then let us grip our Bliss mair sicker,
And tape our Heal, and sprightly Liquor,
Which sober tane makes Wit the quicker,
And Sense mair keen,
While graver Heads that's muckle thicker
Grane wi' the Spleen.
May ne'er sic wicked Fumes arise
In me shall break a' sacred Ties,
And gar me like a Fool despise
With Stifness rude,
What ever my best Friends advise
Tho ne'er so good.
'Tis best then to evite the Sin
Of bending till our Sauls gae blin,
Lest like our Glass our Breasts grow thin,
And let Fowk peep,
At ilka secret hid within
That we should keep.