Explore "The Whistle-A Ballad" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I sing of a Whistle, a Whistle of worth, / I sing of a Whistle, the pride of the North. / Was brought to the court of our good Scottish King, / And long with this Whistle all Scotland shall ring.
Old Loda, still rueing the arm of Fingal, / The god of the bottle sends down from his hall- / "The Whistle's your challenge, to Scotland get o'er, / And drink them to hell, Sir! or ne'er see me more!"