A Guide New-year I wish thee, Maggie! Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie: Tho' thou's howe-backit now, an' knaggie, I've seen the day There could hae gaen like ony staggie, Out-owre the lay. Tho' now thou's dowie, stiff an' crazy, An' thy auld hide as white's a daisie, I've seen the dappl't, sleek an' glaizie, A bonie gray: He should been tight that daur't to raize thee, Ance in a day. Thou ance was i' the foremost rank, A filly buirdly, steeve an' swank; An' set weel down a shapely shank, As e'er tread yird; An' could hae flown out-owre a stank, Like ony bird. It's now some nine-an'-twenty year, Sin' thou was my guid-father's mear; He gied me thee, o' tocher clear, An' fifty mark; Tho' it was sma', 'twas weel-won gear, An' thou was stark. When first I gaed to woo my Jenny, Ye then was trotting wi' your minnie:
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4/17/2026 12:41:17 AM # 1.0.0