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,
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