VIII.

But tent me, Davie, ace o' hearts! (To say aught less wad wrang the cartes, And flatt'ry I detest,) This life has joys for you and I; And joys that riches ne'er could buy: And joys the very best. There's a' the pleasures o' the heart, The lover an' the frien'; Ye hae your Meg your dearest part, And I my darling Jean! It warms me, it charms me, To mention but her name: It heats me, it beets me, And sets me a' on flame!