The Laird o’ Lamington
Can I bear to part wi' thee, Never mair thy face to see,— Can I bear to part wi' thee, Drucken Laird o' Lamington? Canty war ye ower your kale, Toddy jugs, and jaups o' yill; Heart aye kind, and leal, and hale,— The honest Laird o' Lamington! He that swears is but so so; He that cheats to hell must go; He that falls in bagnio, Falls in the devil's frying-pan. Wha was't ne'er put aith to word, Never fleech'd to duke or lord, Never sat at sinfa' board?— The honest Laird o' Lamington. He that cheats can ne'er be just; He that lies is ne'er to trust; He that drinks to drauk his dust, Wha can say that wrang is done? Wha was't ne'er to fraud inclined? Never lied sin' he could mind? Ane whase drouth there's few can find?— The honest Laird o' Lamington! I like a man to tak' his glass, Toast his friend and bonnie lass; He that winna is an ass— Deil send him ane to gallop on! I like a man that's frank and kind, Meets me when I ha'e a mind, Sings his sang and drinks me blind, Like the honest Laird o' Lamington.
James Hogg’s other poems:
890
