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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506777" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Daft-days</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now mirk December's dowie face<br> Glours our the rigs wi' sour grimace,<br> While, thro' his minimum of space,<br> The bleer-ey'd sun<br> Wi' blinkin light and stealing pace,<br> His race doth run.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> From naked groves nae birdie sings,<br> To shepherd's pipe nae hillock rings,<br> The breeze nae od'rous flavour brings<br> From Borean cave,<br> And dwyning nature droops her wings,<br> Wi' visage grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Mankind but scanty pleasure glean<br> Frae snawy hill or barren plain,<br> Whan Winter, 'midst his nipping train,<br> Wi' frozen spear,<br> Sends drift owr a' his bleak domain,<br> And guides the weir.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Auld Reikie! thou'rt the canty hole,<br> A bield for mony caldrife soul,<br> Wha snugly at thine ingle loll,<br> Baith warm and couth;<br> While round they gar the bicker roll<br> To weet their mouth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When merry Yule-day comes, I trow<br> You'll scantlins find a hungry mou;<br> Sma' are our cares, our stamacks fou<br> O' gusty gear,<br> And kickshaws, strangers to our view,<br> Sin Fairn-year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Ye browster wives, now busk ye bra,<br> And fling your sorrows far awa';<br> Then come and gie's the tither blaw<br> Of reaming ale,<br> Mair precious than the well of Spa,<br> Our hearts to heal.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then, tho' at odds wi' a' the warl',<br> Amang oursells we'll never quarrel;<br> Tho' Discord gie a canker'd snarl<br> To spoil our glee,<br> As lang's there's pith into the barrel<br> We'll drink and 'gree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Fiddlers, your pins in temper fix,<br> And roset weel your fiddle-sticks,<br> But banish vile Italian tricks<br> From out your quorum,<br> Nor fortes wi' pianos mix,<br> Gie's Tulloch Gorum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> For nought can cheer the heart sae weil<br> As can a canty Highland reel,<br> It even vivifies the heel<br> To skip and dance:<br> Lifeless is he what canna feel<br> Its influence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Let mirth abound, let social cheer<br> Invest the dawning of the year;<br> Let blithesome innocence appear<br> To crown our joy,<br> Nor envy wi' sarcastic sneer<br> Our bliss destroy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And thou, great god of Aqua Vit&aelig;!<br> Wha sways the empire of this city,<br> When fou we're sometimes capernoity,<br> Be thou prepar'd<br> To hedge us frae that black banditti,<br> The City-Guard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Fergusson">Robert Fergusson</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=506777" data-title="The Daft-days de Robert Fergusson" data-description="Now mirk December's dowie face
 Glours our the rigs wi' sour grimace,
 While, thro' his minimum of space,
 The bleer-ey'd sun
 Wi' blinkin light and stealing pace,
 His race doth run.

 From naked groves nae birdie sings,
 To shepherd's pipe nae h..."></div>
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