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笔趣阁 > Poems and Songs of Robert Burns > the calf

the calf

you e'er should be a stot!

tho' when some kind connubial dear

your but—and—ben adorns,

the like has been that you may wear

a noble head of horns.

and, in your lug, most reverend james,

to hear you roar and rowt,

few men o' sense will doubt your claims

to rank amang the nowt.

and when ye're number'd wi' the dead,

below a grassy hillock,

with justice they may mark your head—

“here lies a famous bullock!”

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