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笔趣阁 > Poems and Songs of Robert Burns > stanzas on naething

stanzas on naething

stanzas on naething

extempore epistle to gavin hamilton, esq.

to you, sir, this summons i've sent,

pray, whip till the pownie is freathing;

but if you demand what i want,

i honestly answer you—naething.

ne'er scorn a poor poet like me,

for idly just living and breathing,

while people of every degree

are busy employed about—naething.

poor centum-per-centum may fast,

and grumble his hurdies their claithing,

he'll find, when the balance is cast,

he's gane to the devil for-naething.

the courtier cringes and bows,

ambition has likewise its plaything;

a coronet beams on his brows;

and what is a coronet-naething.

some quarrel the presbyter gown,

some quarrel episcopal graithing;

but every good fellow will own

their quarrel is a' about—naething.

the lover may sparkle and glow,

approaching his bonie bit gay thing:

but marriage will soon let him know

he's gotten—a buskit up naething.

the poet may jingle and rhyme,

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