just your honest Rab they like, An’ no yoursel’.

p. 134

As at the gowff, some canny play’r Should tee a common ba’ wi’ care— Should flourish and deleever fair His souple shintie— An’ the ba’ rise into the air, A leevin’ lintie:

Sae in the game we writers play, There comes to some a bonny day, When a dear ferlie shall repay Their years o’ strife, An’ like your Rab, their things o’ clay, Spreid wings o’ life.

p. 135Ye scarce deserved it, I’m afraid— You that had never learned the trade, But just some idle mornin’ strayed Into the schüle, An’ picked the fiddle up an’ played Like Neil himsel’.

p. 135

Your e’e was gleg, your fingers dink; Ye didnae fash yoursel’ to think, But wove, as fast as puss can link, Your denty wab:— Ye stapped your pen into the ink, An’ there was Rab!

Sinsyne, whaure’er your fortune lay By dowie den, by canty brae, Simmer an’ winter, nicht an’ day, Rab was aye wi’ ye; An’ a’ the folk on a’ the way Were blithe to see ye.

p. 136O sir, the gods are kind indeed, An’ hauld ye for an honoured heid, That for a wee bit clarkit screed Sae weel reward ye, An’ lend—puir Rabbie bein’ deid—  His ghaist to guard ye.

p. 136

For though, whaure’er yoursel’ may be, We’ve just to turn an’ glisk a wee, An’ Rab at heel we’re shüre to see Wi’ gladsome caper:— The bogle of a bogle, he—  A ghaist o’ paper!

And as the auld-farrand hero sees In Hell a bogle Hercules, Pit there the lesser deid to please, While he himsel’ Dwalls wi’ the muckle gods at ease Far raised frae hell:

p. 137Sae the true Rabbie far has gane On kindlier business o’ his ain Wi’ aulder frien’s; an’ his breist-bane An’ stumpie tailie, He birstles at a new hearth stane By James and Ailie.

p. 137

p. 138XVI

p. 138

It’s an owercome sooth for age an’ youth And it brooks wi’ nae denial, That the dearest friends are the auldest friends And the young are just on trial.

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