THE POEMS OF BURNS.
187
LINES WRITTEN ON A TUMBLER.
You're welcome, Willie Stewart;
You're welcome, Willie Stewart;
There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May,
That's half sae welcome's thou art.
You're welcome, Willie Stewart;
There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May,
That's half sae welcome's thou art.
Come, bumpers high, express your joy,
The bowl we maun renew it;
The tappit-hen, gae bring her ben,
To welcome Willie Stewart.
The bowl we maun renew it;
The tappit-hen, gae bring her ben,
To welcome Willie Stewart.
May foes be strang, and friends be slack,
Ilk action may he rue it;
May woman on him turn her back,
That wrangs thee, Willie Stewart!
Ilk action may he rue it;
May woman on him turn her back,
That wrangs thee, Willie Stewart!
ON MR. W. CRUIKSHANK,
OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, EDINBURGH.
Honest Will to heaven is gane,
And mony shall lament him;
His faults they a' in Latin lay,
In English nane e'er kent them.
And mony shall lament him;
His faults they a' in Latin lay,
In English nane e'er kent them.
