2 L-UATH. THEY'RE nae sae wretched's ane wad think; Then chance an' fortune are sae guided; The dearest comfort o'their lives, Their grushie weans an' faithfu? wives ;. The prattling things are just their pride, That sweetens a' their fire-fide. An' whyles twalpennie worth o' nappy Can mak the bodies unco happy ; They They lay aside their private cares, An ferlie at the folk in Lon'on. As bleak-fac'd Hollowmas returns, They get the jovial, ranting kirns, That merry day the year begins, They bar the door on frosty winds; The nappy reeks wi' mantling ream, An' leds a heart-inspiring steam ; The . The luntin pipe, an' sneefhin mill, heart has been fo fain to see them, My That I for joy hae barkit'wi' them. STILL is't owre. true that ye hae said, Sic game is now owre aften play'l.. There's monie a creditable stock O'decent, honest fawfont folk, Are riven out baith root and branch; Some rascal's pridefu' greed to quench, Wha thinks to knit himsel the faster. In favour wi? some gentle Master, CÆSAR CÆSAR. HAITH, Lad, ye little ken about it: For Britain's guid! guid faith! I doubt it. To mak a tour; an' tak a whirl, To learn bon ton an' see the world, THERE, at Vienna or Versailles, He rives his father's auld entails; Or by Madrid he takes the rout, Wh-rea Wh-re-hunting among groves o' myrtles; L U A T H. Hech man ! dear firs! is that the gate They waste fae mony a braw estate! O WOULD they stay aback frae courts, An' please themsels wi' countra Sports, For |