1.
This wot ye all whom it concerns:
I, Rhymer Rab, alias Burns,
October twenty-third,
A ne'er-to-be-forgotten day,
Sae far I aprachl'd up the brae
I dinner'd wi' a Lord.
2.
I've been at drucken Writers' feasts,
Nay, been bitch-fou 'mang godly Priests -
Wi' rev'rence be it spoken! -
I've even join'd the honor'd jorum,
When mighty Squireships o' the Quorum
Their hydra drouth did sloken.
3.
But wi' a Lord! - stand out my shin!
A Lord, a Peer, an Earl's son! -
Up higher yet my bonnet!
An' sic a Lord! - lang Scotch ell twa
Our Peerage he looks o'er them a',
As I look o'er my sonnet.
(Note: - An 'ell' is a measure of length equal to 45 inches.)
4.
But O, for Hogarth's magic pow'r
To show Sir Bardie's willyart glow'r,
An' how he star'd an' stammer'd,
When, goavin's he'd been led wi' branks,
An' stumpin on his ploughman shanks,
He in the parlour hammer'd!
5.
To meet good Stewart little pain is,
Or Scotia's sacred Demosthenes:
Thinks I: 'They are but men'!
But 'Burns'! - 'My Lord'! - Good God! I doited,
My knees on ane anither knoited
As faultening I gaed ben.
6.
I sidling shelter'd in a neuk,
An' at his Lordship staw a leuk,
Like some portentous omen:
Except good sense and social glee
An' (what surpris'd me) modesty,
I marked nought uncommon.
7.
I watch'd the symptoms o' the Great -
The gentle pride, the lordly state,
The arrogant assuming:
The fient a pride, nae pride had he,
Nor sauce, nor state, that I could see,
Mair than an honest ploughman!
8.
Then from his Lordship I shall learn
Henceforth to meet with unconcern
One rank as well's another;
Nae honest, worthy man need care
To meet with noble youthfu' Daer,
For he but meets a brother.

This know you all whom it concerns:
I, Rhymer Rab, alias Burns,
October twenty-third,
A never-to-be-forgotten day,
So far I clambered up the hill
I dined with a Lord.

I have been at drunken Writers' (Lawyers) feasts,
Nay, been bitch-drunk among godly Priests -
With reverence be it spoken! -
I have even joined the honoured jorum,
When mighty Squireships of the Quorum
Their hydra thirst did slake.

But with a Lord! - stand out my shin (shoes)!
A Lord, a Peer, an Earl's son! -
Up higher yet my bonnet!
And such a Lord! - long Scotch ell two
Our Peerage he looks over them all,
As I look over my sonnet


But O, for Hogarth's magic power
To show Sir Bardie's disordered gaze,
And how he stared and stammered,
When, looking dazedly as he had been led with ox's bridle,
And stumping on his ploughman shanks (legs),
He in the parlour hammered!

To meet good Stewart little pain is,
Or Scotia's sacred Demosthenes:
Thinks I: 'They are but men'!
But 'Burns'! - 'My Lord'! - Good God! I doddered,
My knees on one another knocked
As faltering I went to the parlour.

I sidling sheltered in a corner,
And at his Lordship stole a look,
Like some portentous omen:
Except good sense and social glee
And (what surprised me) modesty,
I marked nothing uncommon.

I watched the symptoms of the Great -
The gentle pride, the lordly state,
The arrogant assuming:
The fiend a pride, no pride had he,
Nor sauce, nor state, that I could see,
More than an honest ploughman!

Then from his Lordship I shall learn
Henceforth to meet with unconcern
One rank as well as another;
No honest, worthy man need care (be perturbed)
To meet with noble youthful Daer,
For he but meets a brother.