III. FOR me before a Monarch's face, For neither Penfion, Poft, nor Place, Am I your humble debtor: So, nae reflection on Your Grace, There's monie waur been o' the Race, And aiblins ane been better Than You this day. IV. 'Tis very true, my fov'reign King, But Facts are cheels that winna ding, An' downa be difputed: Your Royal Neft, beneath Your wing, Is e'en right reft an' clouted, And now the third part of the ftring, An' lefs, will gang about it Than did ae day. V. FAR be't frae me that I afpire To blame your Legislation, Or fay, ye wisdom want, or fire, But, faith! I muckle doubt, my Sire, Ye've trufted Miniftration To chaps, wha, in a barn or byre, Wad better fill'd their station Than courts yon day. VI. AND now ye've gien auld Britain peace, Her broken fhins to plaister; Your Your fair taxation does her fleece, Till fhe has scarce a tefter: For me, thank God, my life's a lease, Nae bargain wearing fafter, Or faith! I fear, that, wi the geefe, I fhortly boost to pasture I' the craft fome day.. VII. I'm no mistrusting Willie Pitt, When taxes he enlarges, (An' Will's a true guid fallow's Get, A Name not Envy fpairges) That he intends to pay your debt, An' leffen a' your charges; But G-d fake! let nae saving-fit Abridge your bonie Barges An' Boats this day. VIII. ADIEU my Liege! may Freedom geck An' may Ye rax Corruption's neck, And gie her for diffection! But fince I'm here, I'll no neglect, In loyal, true affection, To pay your Queen, with due respect, My fealty an' fubjection This great Birth-day. IX. HARL, Majesty most Excellent! While Nobles ftrive to please Ye, Will ye accept a Compliment A fimple Bardie gies Ye? Thae bonie Bairntime, Heav'n has lent, Still higher may they heeze Ye In blifs, till Fate fome day is fent, For ever to release Ye Frae Care that day. X. FOR you, young Potentate o' W-, I tell your Highness fairly, Down Pleasure's ftream, wi' fwelling fails, I'm tauld ye're driving rarely; But fome day ye may gnaw your nails, That e'er ye brak Diana's pales, Or rattl'd dice wi' Charlie By night or day. XI. YET aft a ragged Cowle's been known To mak a noble Liver; |