Epistle To Major Logan（1 / 3）
epistle to major logan
hail, thairm-inspirin', rattlin' willie!
tho' fortune's road be rough an' hilly
to every fiddling, rhyming billie,
we never heed,
but take it like the unback'd filly,
proud o' her speed.
when, idly goavin', whiles we saunter,
yirr! fancy barks, awa we canter,
up hill, down brae, till some mischanter,
some black bog-hole,
arrests us; then the scathe an' banter
we're forced to thole.
hale be your heart! hale be your fiddle!
lang may your elbuck jink and diddle,
to cheer you through the weary widdle
o' this wild warl'.
until you on a crummock driddle,
a grey hair'd carl.
come wealth, come poortith, late or soon,
heaven send your heart-strings aye in tune,
and screw your temper-pins aboon
a fifth or mair
the melancholious, lazy croon
o' cankrie care.
may still your life from day to day,
nae “lente largo” in the play,
but “allegretto forte” gay,
harmonious flow,
a sweeping, kindling, bauld strathspey— ↑返回顶部↑
hail, thairm-inspirin', rattlin' willie!
tho' fortune's road be rough an' hilly
to every fiddling, rhyming billie,
we never heed,
but take it like the unback'd filly,
proud o' her speed.
when, idly goavin', whiles we saunter,
yirr! fancy barks, awa we canter,
up hill, down brae, till some mischanter,
some black bog-hole,
arrests us; then the scathe an' banter
we're forced to thole.
hale be your heart! hale be your fiddle!
lang may your elbuck jink and diddle,
to cheer you through the weary widdle
o' this wild warl'.
until you on a crummock driddle,
a grey hair'd carl.
come wealth, come poortith, late or soon,
heaven send your heart-strings aye in tune,
and screw your temper-pins aboon
a fifth or mair
the melancholious, lazy croon
o' cankrie care.
may still your life from day to day,
nae “lente largo” in the play,
but “allegretto forte” gay,
harmonious flow,
a sweeping, kindling, bauld strathspey— ↑返回顶部↑