Robert Burns Poems

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AS Tam the chapman on a day,
Wi’Death forgather’d by the way,
Weel pleas’d, he greets a wight so famous,
And Death was nae less pleas’d wi’ Thomas,
Wha cheerfully lays down his pack,
And there blaws up a hearty crack:
His social, friendly, honest heart
Sae tickled Death, they could na part;
Sae, after viewing knives and garters,
Death taks him hame to gie him quarters.

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