CAESAR

Lord, man, were ye but whyles where I am, [sometimes]
The gentles ye wad ne'er envy 'em,
It's true, they needna starve or sweat,
Thro' winter's cauld or simmer's heat;
They've nae sair wark to craze their banes. [hard]
An' fill auld age wi' grips an' granes: [gripes, groans]
But human bodies are sic fools.
For a' their colleges and schools,
That when nae real ills perplex them,
They make enow themselves to vex them,
An' aye the less they hae to sturt them, [fret]
In like proportion less will hurt them.
A country fellow at the pleugh,
His acres till'd, he's right eneugh;
A country lassie at her wheel,
Her dizzens done, she's unco weel; [dozens]
But gentlemen, an' ladies warst,
Wi' ev'ndown want o' wark are curst, [positive]
They loiter, lounging, lank, and lazy;
Though de'il haet ails them, yet uneasy; [devil a bit]
Their days insipid, dull, and tasteless;
Their nights unquiet, lang, and restless.
And e'en their sports, their balls, and races,
Their galloping through public places;
There's sic parade, sic pomp and art,
The joy can scarcely reach the heart.
The men cast out in party matches, [quarrel]