I would also like to say..
Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,
Aboon distress, below a’ envy,
O wha wad leave this humble state,
For a' the pride of a' the great?
Amid their flairing, idle boys,
Amid their cumbrous, dinsome toys,
Can they peace and pleasure feel
Of Becky at verse’s spinnin' wheel?
On ilka hand this Burnsey trollop,
To meet me below in thy theekit cot;
The scented birk and hawthorn white,
Across the ether I-net our words unite,
Alike to ‘puter screen this birdie's nest,
For little fishes' o’ callers to test;
The I-sun blinks kindly in this my beil',
Where blythe I turn my versin’ wheel.
O Leeze me on my rhymin' wheel,
And leeze me on thy line and reel;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,
And haps me biel and warm at e'en;
So chat me up and sing and spin,
While laugh descends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content, with wit and feel,
O leeze me on my bardic' wheel.
