POETRT. 



THE kino's birth DAT AT AVON PR.INTFIELD, I792. 



Far the Bee. 



1-iiKE ither bards right fain I'd sing 

 The great birth day o' Britain's kingj 

 But that it will me right sair ding 



I've cause to rear ; 

 For book-lear'd chaps wi high flown winj 



Sings't ilka year. 



When Musie kend o' the afFiir, 

 She grew as mad as a March hare; 

 Quo' ihe ye art haft' daft an' mair, 



Ye scnselefs coof; 

 That subject's worn, just as thread bare 



'S a body's loot. 



Gle o'er your sang, continued (he. 



An dinna ye affront me sae j 



Gleg Burns, an twa three bardies mae, 



The theme wad hit; 

 But you, ye hardly ken a B 



Bi a bull's fit! 



It to my heart gade wi' a dunt. 

 To think the cuttie had the strunt; 

 Says I, ye crabbit mislear'd runt, 



Gif I draw breath. 

 This day ye sail Pegasus munt, 



As fhure as death. 



When that /he heard me crack sae crouse. 

 She grew as caum as ony mouse ; 

 Syne look'd sae pleasant and sae douse, 



An' nae mair snarl'd; 

 That now I diana car? a louse 



For a' the warld. 



Come then, my winsome, dautit lamjb! 

 An' I'ie gie you a,gude Scots dram 

 O' aqjavilae ", just the sam 



I tak mysell ; 

 Whether it inc:id your milk or dam. 



Ye need na tell. 



Sing on this morn, before the sun 

 To s "jel the lift has y-et begun, 

 Wi h-arts sae overjoy'd wi' fun, 



We canna sleep j 

 But u,) an' to the fields we run, 



By day light peep. 

 VOL xi. • + 



