"A NEW WHISTLE O'ER THE LAVE O'T."'
“We should na fret oursel's to stane,
Like Niobe, wha's dead an' gane,
Nor blear our een out a' our lane,
But whistle o'er the lave o't.
“Gie me a man wha's een can blink,
Wha's heart is free, wha's soul can think
Wha's Cli'shma-Clarer care can sink,
And whistle o'er the lave o't.
“Let Beauty's smiles illume the way
The murky glen through which we stray;
Thus may we live our little day,
And whistle o'er the lave o't.
“When fortune shows a scowllin’ brow,
And lays our fairest prospects low
As pleasures fade, let reason grow,
Then whistle o'er the lave o't.
“But when she glints with face serene
And decks the warl' in gayest sheen,
We'll aye distrust the fickle quean,
And whistle o'er the lave o't.
“And when auld Death wi’ ruthless paw
Shall clapper claw us, ane and a',
We maun submit to Nature's law,
And whistle o'er the lave o't.”
