Deveron days

THE HEDONIST
(After cBbanger)
T KENT o’ a king o’ the Cabrach aince,
An’ a gey bit kingie was he;
He had nae sowl, nae siller, nor sense,
But did fine withoot a’ three.
For he sleepit, ochone ! an’ snored, ochone !
A’ day in his beddie ba’—
Wi’ a tosselled trok o’ a nicht-kep on,
An’ his croon in the crap o’ the wa’,
Ay, his bonnie croon,
Wi’ the roset foun’,
It lay in the crap o’ the wa’.
He’d wauken fyles when the knock wad chap,
An’ skirl fae the horn en’:—
“Ye louts, ye loons, I’ve an awfu’ yapp,
Fess plates and trenchers ben;
An’ dinna forget, I’ve a drooth evenoo
That could drink the Deveron dry—
An’ the mair o’ guid ye pit into my mou’,
The mair’ll come oot, say I,
Oh, better for you,
A king half-fou’,
A hantle, than ane that’s dry.”
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