Poem by Robert Burns

Sketch

A LITTLE, upright, pert, tart, tripping wight,
And still his precious self his dear delight;
Who loves his own smart shadow in the streets
Better than o’er the fairest she he meets:
A man of fashion too, he made his tour,
Learn’d vive is bagatelle, and vive l’amour;
So travell’d monkeys their grimace improve,
Polish their grin, nay, sigqh for ladies’ love!
Much specious lore, but little understood;
Veneering oft outshines the solid wood:
His solid sense-by inches you must tell,
But mete his dinning by the old Boots ell;
His meddling vanity, a busy fiend,
Still making work his selfish craft must mend.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. Farewell to Ballochmyle
4. Stay My Charmer
5. On a Bank of Flowers

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