Poem Addressed to Mr. Mitchell (Poem by Robert Burns)

Old Poem

Poem Addressed to Mr. Mitchell
Collector of Excise, Dumfries, 1796
By Robert Burns

Friend of the Poet, tried and leal,
Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal;
Alake, alake, the meikle deil
                Wi’ a’ his witches
Are at it, skelpin’ jig and reel,
                In my poor pouches!

I modestly fu’ fain wad hint it,
That one pound one, I sairly want it,
If wi’ the hizzie down ye sent it,
                It would be kind;
And while my heart wi’ life-blood dunted
                I’d bear’t in mind.

So may the auld year gang out moaning
To see the new come laden, groaning,
Wi’ double plenty o’er the loanin
                To thee and thine;
Domestic peace and comforts crowning
                The hale design.


Ye’ve heard this while how I’ve been licket,
And by felt death was nearly nicket;
Grim loon! he got me by the fecket,
                And sair me sheuk;
But by guid luck I lap a wicket,
                And turn’d a neuk.

But by that health, I’ve got a share o’t,
And by that life, I’m promised mair o’t,
My hale and weel I’ll tak a care o’t,
                A tentier way:
Then farewell folly, hide and hair o’t,
                For ance and aye!


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