E T J S h（3 / 4）

hope does ev&039;ry sew brace;

thro&039; fair, thro&039; foul, they ur the race,

an&039; seize the prey:

then cannie, zie pce,

they close the day

and others, like your huble servan&039;,

poor wights! nae rules nor roads observ,

to right or left eternal swerv,

they zig-zag on;

till, curst with a, obscure an&039; starv,

they aften groan

as! what bitter toil an&039; strag—

but truce with peevish, poor pg!

is fortune&039;s fickle na wang?

e&039;n let her gang!

beneath what light she has reag,

let&039;s sg our sang

y pen i here flg to the door,

and kneel, ye pow&039;rs! and war iplore,

“tho&039; i should wander terra o&039;er,

all her clis,

grant but this, i ask no ore,

aye rowth o&039; rhys

“gie dreep roasts to untra irds,

till icicles hg frae their beards;

gie fe braw ces to fe life-guards,

and aids of honour;

an&039; yill an&039; whisky gie to cairds,

until they snner

“a title, depster rits it;

a garter gie to willie pitt;

gie wealth to be-ledr&039;d cit,

cent per cent;

but give real, sterlg wit,

and i&039; ntent

“while ye are pleas&039;d to keep hale,

i&039;ll sit down o&039;er y scanty al,

be&039;t water-brose or l-kail,

wi&039; cheerfu&039; face,

as ng&039;s the es dna fail

to say the grace”

an anxio e&039;e i never throws

beht y g, or by y nose;

i jouk beneath isfortune&039;s blows

as weel&039;s i ay;

sworn foe to rrow, care, and prose,

i rhy away

o ye douce folk that live by rule,

grave, tideless-blooded, cal an&039;ol,

par&039;d wi&039; you—o fool! fool! fool!

how uch unlike!

your hearts are jt a standg pool,

your lives, a dyke!

nae hair-bra&039;d, sentintal traces

your unletter&039;d,