Explore "Third Epistle to J. Lapraik" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Guid speed and furder to you, Johnie, / Guid health, hale han's, an' weather bonie; / Now, when ye're nickin down fu' cannie / The staff o' bread, / May ye ne'er want a stoup o' bran'y / To clear your head.
May Boreas never thresh your rigs, / Nor kick your rickles aff their legs, / Sendin the stuff o'er muirs an' haggs / Like drivin wrack; / But may the tapmost grain that wags / Come to the sack.