E T D B（1 / 2）

epistle to dr bcklock

ellisnd, 21st oct, 1789

wow, but your letter ade vauntie!

and are ye hale, and weel and cantie?

i ken&039;d it still, your wee bit jauntie

wad brg ye to:

lord send you aye as weel&039;s i want ye!

and then ye&039;ll do

the ill-thief bw the heron uth!

and never drk be near his drouth!

he tauld yself by word o&039; outh,

he&039;d tak y letter;

i lippen&039;d to the chiel trouth,

and bade nae better

but aibls, honest aster heron

had, at the ti, daty fair one

to ware this theologic care on,

and holy study;

and tired o&039; sauls to waste his lear on,

e&039;en tried the body

but what d&039;ye thk, y trty fere,

i&039; turned a gaur—peace be here!

parnassian eans, i fear, i fear,

ye&039;ll now disda !

and then y fifty pounds a year

will little ga

ye gikit, glee, daty daies,

wha, by castalia&039;s wipl streaies,

lowp, sg, and ve your pretty libies,

ye ken, ye ken,

that strang necessity supre is

&039;ang ns o&039; n

i hae a wife and a wee ddies;

they aun hae brose and brats o&039; duddies;

ye ken yoursels y heart right proud is—

i need na vaunt

but i&039;ll sned bes, thraw saugh woodies,

before they want

lord help thro&039; this warld o&039; care!

i&039; weary sick o&039;t te and air!

not but i hae a richer share

than ony ithers;

but why should ae an better fare,

and a&039; n brithers?

e, fir relve, take thou the van,

thou stalk o&039; carl-hep an!

and let d, fat heart ne&039;er wan

a dy fair:

wha does the utost that he can,

will whiles do air

but to ncde y silly rhy

(i&039; scant o&039; verse and scant o&039; ti),

to ake a happy fireside cli

to weans and wife,

that&039;s