On A Scotch Bard, Gone To The West Indie
on a scotch bard, goo the west indies a' ye wha live by sowps o' drink, a' ye wha live by crambo-k, a' ye wha live and hink, e, mourn wi' me! our billie 's gien us a' a jink, an' owre the sea! lament him a' ye rantin core, wha dearly like a random splore; nae mair he'll join the merry roar; in social key; for now he's taen anither shore. an' owre the sea! the bonie lasses weel may wiss him, and in their dear petitions place him: the ives, an' a' may bless him wi' tearfu' e'e; for weel i wat they'll sairly miss him that's owre the sea! o fortuhey hae room to grumble! hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle, wha do nought but fyke an' fumble, 'twad been nae plea; but he was gleg as ony wumble, that's owre the sea! auld, tie kyle may weepers wear, an' stain them wi' the saut, saut tear; 'twill mak her poor auld heart, i fear, in flinders flee: he was her laureat mony a year, that's owre the sea! he saw misfortune's cauld nor-west lang mustering up a bitter blast; a jillet brak his heart at last, ill may she be! so, took a berth afore the mast, an' owre the sea. to tremble under fortune's cummock, on a scarce a bellyfu' o' drummock, wi' his proud, indepe stomach, could ill agree; so, row't his hurdies in a hammock, an' owre the sea. he ne'er was gien to great misguidin, yet his pouches wad na bide in; wi' him it ne'er was under hiding; he dealt it free: the muse was a' that he took pride in, that's owre the sea. jamaica bodies, use him weel, an' hap him in cozie biel: ye'll find him aye a dainty chiel, an' fou o' glee: he wad na wrang'd the vera deil, that's owre the sea. farewell, my rhyme-posing billie! your native soil was right ill-willie; but may ye flourish like a lily, now bonilie! i'll toast you in my hindmost gillie, tho' owre the sea!