On a Scotch Bard Gone to the West Indies
Original
On a Scotch Bard Gone to the West Indies
A’ ye wha live by sowps o’ drink,
A’ ye wha live by crambo-clink,
A’ ye wha live and never think,
Come, mourn wi’ me!
Our billie’s gien us a’ a jink,
An’ owre the sea!
Auld, cantie Kyle may weepers wear,
An’ stain them wi’ the saut, saut tear;
‘Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,
In flinders flee:
He was her Laureat mony a year,
That’s owre the sea!
He saw Misfortune’s cauld nor-west
Lang mustering up a bitter blast;
A jillet brak his heart at last,
Ill may she be!
So, took a berth afore the mast,
An’ owre the sea.
Jamaica bodies, use him weel,
An’ hap him in cozie biel:
Ye’ll find him aye a dainty chiel,
An’ fou o’ glee:
He wad na wrang’d the vera deil,
That’s owre the sea.
Modern English
On a Scotch Bard Gone to the West Indies
All you who live by drink and rhyme,
All you who live by crambo-clink,
All you who live and never think,
Come, mourn with me!
Our friend has given us all the slip,
And crossed the sea!
Old, merry Kyle may weep and wail,
And stain her tears with salt so frail;
‘Twill make her poor old heart, I fear,
In fragments fly:
He was her Laureate many a year,
That’s now offshore!
He saw Misfortune’s cold northwest
Long mustering up a bitter blast;
A jilted girl broke his heart at last,
Ill may she be!
So, took a berth before the mast,
And crossed the sea.
Jamaica folks, treat him well,
And wrap him in a cozy shell:
You’ll find him a fine fellow still,
And full of glee:
He wouldn’t wrong the very devil,
That’s now offshore.