 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
174
SCOTCH DRINK.
Let ither bards exhaust their stock
Of heav'nly names, on heav'nly folk,
And god and goddesses invoke
To guide the pen,
While, just as well, a barber's block
Would ser' their en'.
Of heav'nly names, on heav'nly folk,
And god and goddesses invoke
To guide the pen,
While, just as well, a barber's block
Would ser' their en'.
Nae muse ha'e I, like guide Scotch drink,
It mak's the dormant saul to think,
Gars wit and rhyme thegither clink
In canty measure,
And, even though half fou we wink,
Inspires wi' pleasure.
It mak's the dormant saul to think,
Gars wit and rhyme thegither clink
In canty measure,
And, even though half fou we wink,
Inspires wi' pleasure.
Whiles dulness stands for modest merit,
And impudence for manly spirit;
To ken what worth each does inherit,
Just try the bottle,
Send round the glass, and dinna spare it,
Ye 'll see their mettle.
And impudence for manly spirit;
To ken what worth each does inherit,
Just try the bottle,
Send round the glass, and dinna spare it,
Ye 'll see their mettle.
O would the gods but grant my wish!
My constant prayer would be for this:
That love sincere, with health and peace,
My lot they 'd clink in,
With now and then the social joys
Of friendly drinkin'.
My constant prayer would be for this:
That love sincere, with health and peace,
My lot they 'd clink in,
With now and then the social joys
Of friendly drinkin'.
And when youth's rattlin' days are done,
And age brings on life's afternoon,
Then, like a simmer's setting sun,
Brightly serene,
Smiling, look back, and slidder down
To rise again.
And age brings on life's afternoon,
Then, like a simmer's setting sun,
Brightly serene,
Smiling, look back, and slidder down
To rise again.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |