JOHNNIE DOWIE'S ALE A' ye wha wis', on e'enings lang, To meet an' crack, and sing a sang, And weet your pipes, for little wrang, To purse or person, To sere Johnnie Dowie's gang, There thrum a verse on. O, Dowie's ale! Thou art the thing, That gars us crack, and gars us sing, Cast by our cares, our wants a?ing Fraw us wi' anger; Thou e'en mak'st passion tak the wing, Or thou wilt bang 'er. How blest is he wha has a groat To spare upon the cheering pot; He may look blithe as ony Scot That e'er was born: Gie's a' the like, but wi' a coat, And guide frae scorn. But thinkna that strong ale alone Is a' that's kept by dainty John; Na, na; for in the place there's none, Frae end to end, For meat can set you better on, Than can your friend. Wi' looks a mild as mild can be, An' smudgin' laugh, wi' winkin' e'e; An' lowly bow down to his knee, He'll say fu' douce, 'Whe, gentlemen, stay till I see, What's i' the house.' Anither bow, 'Deed, gif ye please, Ye can get a bit toasted cheese, A crum o' tripe, ham, dish o' pease, (The season fittin',) An egg, or, cauler frae from the seas, A fleuk or whitin'; A nice beefsteak, or ye may get A gude buff'd herring, reisted skate, An' ingans, an' (tho' past its date), A cut o' veal; Ha, ha, it's no that unco late, I'll do it weel.' Then pray for's health this mony year, Fresh three-'n-a-ha' penny, best o?r, That can (tho' dull) you brawly cheer- Recant you week up; An' gar you a' forget your wear- Your sorrows seal up.
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