Page:Dominie depos'd, or, Some reflections on his intrigue with a young lass.pdf/20

( 20 ) Too aft, my thirſty-throat to coól, I went to viſit the punch-bowl, Which makes me now wear reddiſh wool Inſtead o' black; Or I muſt foot the cuttyy-ſtool Wi' deil a plack.

The chappen ſtoup, the pint an' gill, Too aft I cauſed for to fill, Ay loving thoſe wha wou'd ſit ſtill, An' wet their mouth, Ne'er minding that the TULLO-HILL Leads people ſouth.

O but that loving laird Kingſwells, May bleſſings flow where his foot ſwells; Lang life to him whate er befals, Gude be his guide, He's cur'd a thouſand thirſty fauls, An' mine beſide.

O had I but thae days again, Which I fae freely ſpent in vain, I'd ſtrive ſome better for to ken What future chance Shou'd blaw me here out-o'er the main, And fae near France.

But ſince what ails maun ay befal The chiel that will be prodigal, When waited to the very ſpaul He turns his tuſk, For want o' comfort to his faul, On hungry huſk.