WHEN Princes and Prelates, <br />And hot-headed zealots, <br />A' Europe had set in a low, a low, <br />The poor man lies down, <br />Nor envies a crown, <br />And comforts himself as he dow, as he dow, <br />And comforts himself as he dow. <br /> <br /> <br />The black-headed eagle, <br />As keen as a beagle, <br />He hunted o'er height and o'er howe, <br />In the braes o' Gemappe, <br />He fell in a trap, <br />E'en let him come out as he dow, dow, dow, <br />E'en let him come out as he dow. <br />· · · · · · · But truce with commotions, <br />And new-fangled notions, <br />A bumper, I trust you'll allow; <br />Here's George our good king, <br />And Charlotte his queen, <br />And lang may they ring as they dow, dow, dow, <br />And lang may they ring as they dow.<br /><br />Robert Burns<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-tippling-ballad-when-princes-and-prelates-etc/
