Classic Poem

An honest man had tint his wife,
And, wearied of a dowy life,
Thought a parroquet bade maist fair,
With tatling to divert his care:
For the good woman sair he griev'd;
He 'ad needed nane if she had liv'd!

Streight to a bird-man's shop he hies,
Who, stock'd with a' that wing the skies,
And give delight with feathers fair,
Or please with a melodious air;
Larks, gowdspinks, mavises, and linties,
Baith hame bred, and frae foreign countries;
Of parrots he had curious choice,
Carefully bred to make Anoise;
The very warst had learn'd his tale,
To ask a cup of sack or ale;
Cry westlin herrings, or fresh salmons,
White sand, or Norway nuts like almonds.
Delighted with their various claver,
While wealth made all his wits to waver,
" He cast his look beneath the board,
Where stood ane that spake ne'er a word:
" Pray what art thou stands speechless there? "
Reply'd the bird, " I think the mair. "
The buyer says, " Thy answer 's wise,
" And thee I 'll have at any price.
" What must you have? " — " Five pounds. " —
" 'Tis thine
" The money, and the bird is mine. "

Now in his room this feather'd sage
Is hung up in a gilded cage,
The master's expectations fully
Possest to hear him tauk like Tully:
But a hale month is past and gane,
He never hears a rhyme but ane;
Still in his lugs he hears it rair,
" The less I speak I think the mair. " —
" Confound ye for a silly sot,
" What a dull idiot have I got!
" As dull mysell, on short acquaintance,
" To judge of ane by a single sentence! "