Classic Poem

ADVICE TO MR. — ON HIS MARRIAGE.

All joy to you and your Amelie,
May ne'er your purse nor vigour fail ye:
But have a care how you employ
Them baith; and tutor well your joy.
Frae me, an auld dab, tak advice,
And hane them baith if ye be wise;
For warld's wasters, like poor cripples,
Look blunt with poverty and ripples;
There 's an auld saw, to ilk ane notum —
" Better to save at braird than bottom. "
Which means, your purse and person use,
As canny poets do their muse;
For whip and spurring never prove
Effectual, or in verse or love.

Sae far, my friend, in merry strain,
I 've given a douse advice and plain,
And honestly discharg'd my conscience,
In lines, tho' hamely, far frae nonsense.
Some other chiel may daftly sing,
That kens but little of the thing,
And blaw ye up with windy fancies,
That he has thigit frae romances,
Of endless raptures, constant glee,
That never was, nor ne'er will be.
Alake! poor mortals are not gods,
And therefore often fall at odds;
But little quarrels now and than,
Are nae great faults 'tween wife and man:
These help right aften to improve
His understanding, and her love.
Your rib and you, 'bout hours of drinking,
May chance to differ in your thinking;
But that's just like a shower in May,
That gars the sun-blink seem mair gay.
If e'er she tak the pet, or fret,
Be calm, and yet maintain your state;
And, smiling, ca' her little foolie,
Syne with a kiss evite a toolie.
This method 's ever thought the braver,
Than either cuffs, or clish-ma-claver:
It shaws a spirit low and common,
That with ill-nature treats a woman,
They 're of a make sae nice and fair,
They must be manag'd with some care:
Respect them, they 'll be kind and civil;
But disregarded, prove the devil.