VI.
And now I have lived—I know not how long,
And still I can join in a cup and a song:
But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,
Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.
Sing, Lal de dal, &c.
RECITATIVO.
Poor Merry Andrew in the neuk
Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler hizzie;
They mind't na wha the chorus teuk,
Between themsels they were sae busy.
At length wi' drink and courting dizzy,
He stoiter'd up an' made a face;
Then turn'd an' laid a smack on Grizzy,
Syne tun'd his pipes wi' grave grimace.
AIR.
Tune—Auld Sir Simon.
Sir Wisdom's a fool when he's fou,
Sir Knave is a fool in a session;
He's there but a prentice, I trow,
But I am a fool by profession.
My Grannie she bought me a beuk,
An' I held awa to the school;
I fear I my talent misteuk,
But what will ye hae of a fool.
For drink I would venture my neck;
A hizzie's the half of my craft;
But what could ye other expect
Of ane that's avowedly daft.
I ance was ty'd up like a stirk,
For civilly swearing and quaffing;
I ance was abus'd i' the Kirk,
For towzing a lass i' my daffin.