Classic Poem

When Winter airs are cauld an' raw,
Wi' mickle rain an' muckle snaw,
At hame, before I gang awa,'
I fill my flaskie.
There's naught sae gude when winds do blaw
As Hielan' whisky.

The sodger wi' his murtherin' steel,
The canny folk that buy an' sell,
The pawky clerk wha drives a quill
Upon his desky,
They're a sae peacefu' when they're full
O' Hielan' whisky!

As doon the road I gang agley,
An' aften canna find my way,
A sympathetic hiccough frae
My friend McCloskie
Will guide me safe, athort the brae,
To hame an' whisky.