Robert Burns, 1782
No churchman am I for to rail and to write,|
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business contriving a snare,
For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my care.
2. The peer I don't envy, I give him his bow;
3. Here passes the squire on his brother-his horse;
4. The wife of my bosom, alas! she did die;|
for sweet consolation to church I did fly;
I found that old Solomon proved it fair,
That a big-belly'd bottle's a cure for all care.
5. I once was persuaded a venture to make;
6. "Life's cares they are comforts"-a maxim laid down
| Song Index | Home Page |