This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1820 Excerpt: ... varra soun: Wi' legs thick as mill-pwosts, and greasy, The deevil cud nit ding her down! A wood-covered hill, near Crofton-HaU, in Cumberland. Vol. II. T We're aw odd fellows roun Torkin; We're aw larn'd fellows weel met; We're aw rich fellows roun Torkin, Sae faikins we mun hev a swet: Let's drink to the lasses about ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1820 Excerpt: ... varra soun: Wi' legs thick as mill-pwosts, and greasy, The deevil cud nit ding her down! A wood-covered hill, near Crofton-HaU, in Cumberland. Vol. II. T We're aw odd fellows roun Torkin; We're aw larn'd fellows weel met; We're aw rich fellows roun Torkin, Sae faikins we mun hev a swet: Let's drink to the lasses about us, 'Till day's braid glare bids us part; We'll sup till the saller be empty-Come, Matthew lad, boddom the whart. I'll gi'e ye, says Matt, midden Marget, That squints wi' the left-handed ee; When at other fellows she's gleymin, I's freeten'd she's luikin at me: She smells far stranger than carrion, Her cheeks are as dark as hung beef, Her breasts are as flat as a back-buird; 'Mang sluts she's ay counted the chief! We're aw wise fellows roun Torkin; We're aw neyce fellows weel met; We're aw sad fellows roun Torkin, Sae faikins we mun hev a swet: Let's drink to the lasses about us, 'Till day's braid glare bids us part; We'll sup till the saller be empty--Cease, Gwordy lad, boddom the whart. We're aw young'fellows roun Torkin;. We're aw teeght fellows weel met; We're aw brave fellows roun Torkin, Sae faikins we mun hev a sweat: Let's drink to the lasses about us, 'Till day's braid glare bids us part; Well sup till the sailer be empty-Come, Mwosy lad, boddom the whart. IH gi'e ye, says Mwose, mantin Matty, '- That lisps thro' her black rotten teeth: You can't catch five words in ten minutes; If gowlin, she'd flay yen to deeth: . Her feace like auId Nick's nutmig grater, And yallow neck bitten wi' fleas; She's troubl'd wi' win ay at meale teymes, And belshes to give hersel ease! We're aw cute fellows roun Torkin; We're aw sharp fellows weel met; We're aw rare fellows roun Torkin, Sae faikins we mun hev a swet: Let's drink to the lasses about u...
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Add this copy of The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson to cart. $59.74, good condition, Sold by Bonita rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Santa Clarita, CA, UNITED STATES, published 2016 by Palala Press.
