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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116450" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Address of Beelzebub</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Long life, my Lord, an' health be yours,<br>Unskaithed by hunger'd Highland boors;<br>Lord grant me nae duddie, desperate beggar,<br>Wi' dirk, claymore, and rusty trigger,<br>May twin auld Scotland o' a life<br>She likes-as butchers like a knife.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Faith you and Applecross were right<br>To keep the Highland hounds in sight:<br>I doubt na! they wad bid nae better,<br>Than let them ance out owre the water,<br>Then up among thae lakes and seas,<br>They'll mak what rules and laws they please:<br>Some daring Hancocke, or a Franklin,<br>May set their Highland bluid a-ranklin;<br>Some Washington again may head them,<br>Or some Montgomery, fearless, lead them,<br>Till God knows what may be effected<br>When by such heads and hearts directed,<br>Poor dunghill sons of dirt and mire<br>May to Patrician rights aspire!<br>Nae sage North now, nor sager Sackville,<br>To watch and premier o'er the pack vile, -<br>An' whare will ye get Howes and Clintons<br>To bring them to a right repentance-<br>To cowe the rebel generation,<br>An' save the honour o' the nation?<br>They, an' be d-d! what right hae they<br>To meat, or sleep, or light o' day?<br>Far less-to riches, pow'r, or freedom,<br>But what your lordship likes to gie them?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But hear, my lord! Glengarry, hear!<br>Your hand's owre light to them, I fear;<br>Your factors, grieves, trustees, and bailies,<br>I canna say but they do gaylies;<br>They lay aside a' tender mercies,<br>An' tirl the hallions to the birses;<br>Yet while they're only poind't and herriet,<br>They'll keep their stubborn Highland spirit:<br>But smash them! crash them a' to spails,<br>An' rot the dyvors i' the jails!<br>The young dogs, swinge them to the labour;<br>Let wark an' hunger mak them sober!<br>The hizzies, if they're aughtlins fawsont,<br>Let them in Drury-lane be lesson'd!<br>An' if the wives an' dirty brats<br>Come thiggin at your doors an' yetts,<br>Flaffin wi' duds, an' grey wi' beas',<br>Frightin away your ducks an' geese;<br>Get out a horsewhip or a jowler,<br>The langest thong, the fiercest growler,<br>An' gar the tatter'd gypsies pack<br>Wi' a' their bastards on their back!<br>Go on, my Lord! I lang to meet you,<br>An' in my house at hame to greet you;<br>Wi' common lords ye shanna mingle,<br>The benmost neuk beside the ingle,<br>At my right han' assigned your seat,<br>'Tween Herod's hip an' Polycrate:<br>Or if you on your station tarrow,<br>Between Almagro and Pizarro,<br>A seat, I'm sure ye're well deservin't;<br>An' till ye come-your humble servant,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beelzebub.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Burns">Robert Burns</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116450" data-title="Address of Beelzebub de Robert Burns" data-description="Long life, my Lord, an' health be yours,/Unskaithed by hunger'd Highland boors;/Lord grant me nae duddie, desperate beggar,/Wi' dirk, claymore, and rusty trigger,/May twin auld Scotland o' a life/She likes-as butchers like a knife./Faith you and A..."></div>
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