Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/164
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THE POEMS OF BURNS.
Three joyous good fellows, with hearts clear of flaw;Craigdarroch, so famous for wit, worth, and law;And trusty Glenriddel, so skill'd in old coins;And gallant Sir Robert, deep-read in old wines.
Craigdarroch began, with a tongue smooth as oil,Desiring Glenriddel to yield up the spoil;Or else he would muster the heads of the clan,And once more, in claret, try which was the man.
'By the gods of the ancients!' Glenriddel replies,'Before I surrender so glorious a prize,I'll conjure the ghost of the great Rorie More,And bumper his horn with him twenty times o'er.'
Sir Robert, a soldier, no speech would pretend,But he ne'er turn'd his back on his foe—or his friend,Said, toss down the Whistle, the prize of the field,And knee-deep in claret, he'd die ere he'd yield.
To the board of Glenriddel our heroes repair,So noted for drowning of sorrow and care;But for wine and for welcome not more known to fame,Than the sense, wit, and taste, of a sweet lovely dame.
A bard was selected to witness the fray,And tell future ages the feats of the day;A bard who detested all sadness and spleen,And wish'd that Parnassus a vineyard had been.
The dinner being over, the claret they ply,And e'vry new cork is a new spring of joy;In the bands of old friendship and kindred so set,And the bands grew the tighter the more they were wet.
Gay Pleasure ran riot as bumpers ran o'er;Bright Phæbus ne'er witness'd so joyous a core,And vow'd that to leave them he was quite forlorn,Till Cynthia hinted he'd see them next morn.
Six bottles a—piece had well wore out the night,When gallant Sir Robert, to finish the fight,Turn'd o'er in one bumper a bottle of red,And swore 'twas the way that their ancestors did.
Then worthy Glenriddel, so cautious and sage,No longer the warfare ungodly would wage;A high-ruling elder to wallow in wine!He left the foul business to folks less divine.