If ony here has got an ear, <br />He'd better tak’ a haud o’ me, <br />Or I'll begin, wi’ roarin’ din, <br />To cheer our old Academy. <br /> <br />Dear old Academy, <br />Queer old Academy, <br />A merry lot we were, I wot, <br />When at the old Academy. <br /> <br />There's some may think me crouse wi’ drink, <br />And some may think it mad o’ me, <br />But ither some will gladly come <br />And cheer our old Academy. <br /> <br />Some set their hopes on Kings and Popes, <br />But, o’ the sons of Adam, he <br />Was first, without the smallest doubt, <br />That built the first Academy. <br /> <br />Let Pedants seek for scraps of Greek, <br />Their lingo to Macadamize; <br />Gie me the sense, without pretence, <br />That comes o’ Scots Academies. <br /> <br />Let scholars all, both grit and small, <br />Of Learning mourn the sad demise; <br />That's as they think, but we will drink <br />Good luck to Scots Academies.<br /><br />James Clerk Maxwell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-of-the-edinburgh-academician/
