 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
AWAY, GLOOMY CARE.
Away, gloomy care, there 's no place for thee here,Where so many good fellows are met;
Thou wouldst dun the poor bard every day in the year,
Yet I 'm sure I am none in thy debt.
Go, soak thy old skin in the miser's small beer,
And keep watch in his cell all the night;
And if in the morning thou dar'st to appear,
By Jove, I shall drown thee outright.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |