Lines written on windows of the Globe Tavern, Dumfries
The greybeard, old wisdom, may boast of his treasures, Give me with gay folly to live; I grant him his calm-blooded, time-settled pleasures, But folly has raptures to give. I Murder hate by field and flood, Tho' glory's name may screen us; In wars at home I'll spend my blood, Life-giving wars of Venus: The deities that I adore Are social Peace and Plenty; I'm better pleased to make one more, Than be the death of twenty. I would not die like Socrates, For all the fuss of Plato; Nor would I with Leonidas, Nor yet would I with Cato: The Zealots of the Church, or State, Shall ne'er my mortal foes be, But let me have bold Zimri's fate, Within the arms of Cosbi! My bottle is a holy pool, That heals the wounds o' care an' dool; And pleasure is a wanton trout, An ye drink it, ye'll find him out. In politics if thou would'st mix, And mean thy fortunes be; Bear this in mind, be deaf and blind, Let great folks hear and see.