*The Reply*

Tho' loud the mavis whistles now An' blackbirds pipe fae ilka bough An' laverocks set the heart alowe-- Mid a' the plenty You'd miss upon the wayside cowe The twitt'rin' lintie.

An' think you, when the simmer's gane, When sleet blaws thro' the leafless plane, An' bieldless birds sit mute an' lane, The woods a' cheerless, The namely robin on the stane Sings sweet an' fearless.

So tho' my sangs be as you say Nae marrow for the blackbird's lay, They may hae cheered somebody's way Wha wanted better, An' sent him happier up the brae My welcome debtor.

Nae care hae I, nor wish to speel Parnassus' knowe, for mony a chiel Has tint his time, his life as weel, To claim a bit o't: I only crave a wee bit biel' Near han' the fit o't.