Horace in Scots

Kirsty, ye besom! auld an’ grey,
Peer Sandy’s wrunkled kimmer,
Death’s at your elbuck, cease to play
Baith hame an’ furth the limmer.

Ongauns like yours lads weel may fleg
Fae lasses a’ thegither;
Tibbie may fling a wanton leg
Would ill set you her mither.

She Anra’s bothy sneck may tirl
An’ loup like ony filly;
Love stirs her as the pipers’ skirl
Some kiltit Hielan’ billie.

Nane pledge or bring you posies noo;
Auld wives nae trumps set strummin’,
For runts like you the Cabrach woo’—
It’s time your wheel was bummin’.