Читать книгу The Complete Works - Роберт Бернс, Robert Burns - Страница 143
THE POETICAL WORKS OF ROBERT BURNS
CXLI. VERSES TO JOHN RANKINE
Оглавление[With the “rough, rude, ready-witted Rankine,” of Adamhill, in Ayrshire, Burns kept up a will o’-wispish sort of a correspondence in rhyme, till the day of his death: these communications, of which this is one, were sometimes graceless, but always witty. It is supposed, that those lines were suggested by Falstaff’s account of his ragged recruits:—
“I’ll not march through Coventry with them, that’s flat!”]
Ae day, as Death, that grusome carl,
Was driving to the tither warl’
A mixtie-maxtie motley squad,
And mony a guilt-bespotted lad;
Black gowns of each denomination,
And thieves of every rank and station,
From him that wears the star and garter,
To him that wintles in a halter:
Asham’d himsel’ to see the wretches,
He mutters, glowrin’ at the bitches,
“By G—d, I’ll not be seen behint them,
Nor ‘mang the sp’ritual core present them,
Without, at least, ae honest man,
To grace this d—d infernal clan.”
By Adamhill a glance he threw,
“L—d G—d!” quoth he, “I have it now,
There’s just the man I want, i’ faith!”
And quickly stoppit Rankine’s breath.
