The Poetry of Robert Burns Edited by William Ernest Henley and Thomas F. Henderson |
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EXTEMPORE TO GAVIN HAMILTON
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The Poetry of Robert Burns | ||
EXTEMPORE TO GAVIN HAMILTON
STANZAS ON NAETHING
I
To you, Sir, this summons I've sent(Pray, whip till the pownie is fraething!);
But if you demand what I want,
I honestly answer you—naething.
II
Ne'er scorn a poor Poet like meFor idly just living and breathing,
While people of every degree
Are busy employed about—naething.
III
Poor Centum-per-Centum may fast,And grumble his hurdies their claithing;
He'll find, when the balance is cast,
He's gane to the Devil for—naething.
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IV
The courtier cringes and bows;Ambition has likewise its plaything—
A coronet beams on his brows;
And what is a coronet?—Naething.
V
Some quarrel the Presbyter gown,Some quarrel Episcopal graithing;
But every good fellow will own
The quarrel is a' about—naething.
VI
The lover may sparkle and glow,Approaching his bonie bit gay thing;
But marriage will soon let him know
He's gotten—a buskit-up naething.
VII
The Poet may jingle and rhymeIn hopes of a laureate wreathing,
And when he has wasted his time,
He's kindly rewarded with—naething.
VIII
The thundering bully may rage,And swagger and swear like a heathen;
But collar him fast, I'll engage,
You'll find that his courage is—naething.
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IX
Last night with a feminine Whig—A poet she couldna put faith in!
But soon we grew lovingly big,
I taught her, her terrors were—naething.
X
Her Whigship was wonderful pleased,But charmingly tickled wi' ae thing;
Her fingers I lovingly squeezed,
And kissed her, and promised her—naething.
XI
The priest anathèmas may threat—Predicament, sir, that we're baith in;
But when Honor's reveillé is beat,
The holy artillery's—naething.
XII
And now I must mount on the wave:My voyage perhaps there is death in;
But what is a watery grave?
The drowning a Poet is—naething.
XIII
And now, as grim Death's in my thought,To you, Sir, I make this bequeathing:
My service as long as ye've ought,
And my friendship, by God, when ye've—naething.
The Poetry of Robert Burns | ||