“There’s nane that’s blest of human kind,
But the cheerful and the gay, man,
Fal, la, la, &c.
Here’s a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o’ care, man?
Then catch the moments as they fly,
And use them as ye ought, man:
Believe me, happiness is shy,
And comes not aye when sought, man.”
Well, that poem isn’t “A Red, Red Rose”, this is. -
O MY Luve ‘s like a red, red rose
That ‘s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve ‘s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune!
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, 5
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun; 10
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve, 15
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
Pretty self explanatory. He loves her, he thinks she’s beautiful, he’ll love her forever, and if he goes away, he’ll come back.
Your poem is Burns’s A Bottle and a Friend.
There’s no one as blessed as someone cheerful and happy.
Here’s a bottle and an honest friend.
What more would you wish for.
Who knows, before the end of his life,
what his share of troubles may be.
Catch the moments as they pass
and use them as you should
Believe me, happiness is shy
and doesn’t come when you look for it.
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