EXTEMPORE
PINNED ON A LADY’S COUCH.
[“Printed,” says Sir Harris Nicolas, “from a copy in Burns’s handwriting,” a slight alteration in the last line is made from an oral version.]
If you rattle along like your mistress’s tongue,
Your speed will outrival the dart:
But, a fly for your load, you’ll break down on the road
If your stuff has the rot, like her heart.