The Auld Farmers New-Year-Morning Saluta（4 / 4）
that thou hast nurst:
they drew me thretteen pund an' twa,
the vera warst.
mony a sair daurk we twa hae wrought,
an' wi' the weary warl' fought!
an' mony an anxious day, i thought
we wad be beat!
yet here to crazy age we're brought,
wi' something yet.
an' think na', my auld trusty servan',
that now perhaps thou's less deservin,
an' thy auld days may end in starvin;
for my last fow,
a heapit stimpart, i'll reserve ane
laid by for you.
we've worn to crazy years thegither;
we'll toyte about wi' ane anither;
wi' tentie care i'll flit thy tether
to some hain'd rig,
whare ye may nobly rax your leather,
wi' sma' fatigue. ↑返回顶部↑
they drew me thretteen pund an' twa,
the vera warst.
mony a sair daurk we twa hae wrought,
an' wi' the weary warl' fought!
an' mony an anxious day, i thought
we wad be beat!
yet here to crazy age we're brought,
wi' something yet.
an' think na', my auld trusty servan',
that now perhaps thou's less deservin,
an' thy auld days may end in starvin;
for my last fow,
a heapit stimpart, i'll reserve ane
laid by for you.
we've worn to crazy years thegither;
we'll toyte about wi' ane anither;
wi' tentie care i'll flit thy tether
to some hain'd rig,
whare ye may nobly rax your leather,
wi' sma' fatigue. ↑返回顶部↑