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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116521" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Dream</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Guid-Mornin' to our Majesty!<br>May Heaven augment your blisses<br>On ev'ry new birth-day ye see,<br>A humble poet wishes.<br>My bardship here, at your Levee<br>On sic a day as this is,<br>Is sure an uncouth sight to see,<br>Amang thae birth-day dresses<br>Sae fine this day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see ye're complimented thrang,<br>By mony a lord an' lady;<br>"God save the King" 's a cuckoo sang<br>That's unco easy said aye:<br>The poets, too, a venal gang,<br>Wi' rhymes weel-turn'd an' ready,<br>Wad gar you trow ye ne'er do wrang,<br>But aye unerring steady,<br>On sic a day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For me! before a monarch's face<br>Ev'n there I winna flatter;<br>For neither pension, post, nor place,<br>Am I your humble debtor:<br>So, nae reflection on your Grace,<br>Your Kingship to bespatter;<br>There's mony waur been o' the race,<br>And aiblins ane been better<br>Than you this day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis very true, my sovereign King,<br>My skill may weel be doubted;<br>But facts are chiels that winna ding,<br>An' downa be disputed:<br>Your royal nest, beneath your wing,<br>Is e'en right reft and clouted,<br>And now the third part o' the string,<br>An' less, will gang aboot it<br>Than did ae day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Far be't frae me that I aspire<br>To blame your legislation,<br>Or say, ye wisdom want, or fire,<br>To rule this mighty nation:<br>But faith! I muckle doubt, my sire,<br>Ye've trusted ministration<br>To chaps wha in barn or byre<br>Wad better fill'd their station<br>Than courts yon day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now ye've gien auld Britain peace,<br>Her broken shins to plaister,<br>Your sair taxation does her fleece,<br>Till she has scarce a tester:<br>For me, thank God, my life's a lease,<br>Nae bargain wearin' faster,<br>Or, faith! I fear, that, wi' the geese,<br>I shortly boost to pasture<br>I' the craft some day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm no mistrusting Willie Pitt,<br>When taxes he enlarges,<br>(An' Will's a true guid fallow's get,<br>A name not envy spairges),<br>That he intends to pay your debt,<br>An' lessen a' your charges;<br>But, God-sake! let nae saving fit<br>Abridge your bonie barges<br>An'boats this day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adieu, my Liege; may freedom geck<br>Beneath your high protection;<br>An' may ye rax Corruption's neck,<br>And gie her for dissection!<br>But since I'm here, I'll no neglect,<br>In loyal, true affection,<br>To pay your Queen, wi' due respect,<br>May fealty an' subjection<br>This great birth-day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hail, Majesty most Excellent!<br>While nobles strive to please ye,<br>Will ye accept a compliment,<br>A simple poet gies ye?<br>Thae bonie bairntime, Heav'n has lent,<br>Still higher may they heeze ye<br>In bliss, till fate some day is sent<br>For ever to release ye<br>Frae care that day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For you, young Potentate o'Wales,<br>I tell your highness fairly,<br>Down Pleasure's stream, wi' swelling sails,<br>I'm tauld ye're driving rarely;<br>But some day ye may gnaw your nails,<br>An' curse your folly sairly,<br>That e'er ye brak Diana's pales,<br>Or rattl'd dice wi' Charlie<br>By night or day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet aft a ragged cowt's been known,<br>To mak a noble aiver;<br>So, ye may doucely fill the throne,<br>For a'their clish-ma-claver:<br>There, him at Agincourt wha shone,<br>Few better were or braver:<br>And yet, wi' funny, queer Sir John,<br>He was an unco shaver<br>For mony a day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For you, right rev'rend Osnaburg,<br>Nane sets the lawn-sleeve sweeter,<br>Altho' a ribbon at your lug<br>Wad been a dress completer:<br>As ye disown yon paughty dog,<br>That bears the keys of Peter,<br>Then swith! an' get a wife to hug,<br>Or trowth, ye'll stain the mitre<br>Some luckless day!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Young, royal Tarry-breeks, I learn,<br>Ye've lately come athwart her-<br>A glorious galley,^4 stem and stern,<br>Weel rigg'd for Venus' barter;<br>But first hang out, that she'll discern,<br>Your hymeneal charter;<br>Then heave aboard your grapple airn,<br>An' large upon her quarter,<br>Come full that day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ye, lastly, bonie blossoms a',<br>Ye royal lasses dainty,<br>Heav'n mak you guid as well as braw,<br>An' gie you lads a-plenty!<br>But sneer na British boys awa!<br>For kings are unco scant aye,<br>An' German gentles are but sma',<br>They're better just than want aye<br>On ony day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gad bless you a'! consider now,<br>Ye're unco muckle dautit;<br>But ere the course o' life be through,<br>It may be bitter sautit:<br>An' I hae seen their coggie fou,<br>That yet hae tarrow't at it.<br>But or the day was done, I trow,<br>The laggen they hae clautit<br>Fu' clean that day.</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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