Page:Dominie depos'd.pdf/4

 I ne’er laid money up in store,

Into a hole behind the door,

A shilling, penny, less or more,

I did it scatter;

’Tis just, now, I should drink, therefore,

Sma’ beer or water.

I never sooner siller got,

But a’ my pouches it would plot,

And scorch them sair, it was sae hot;

Then to get clear

Of it, I swill’d it down my throat,

In ale or beer.

Thus, a’ my failing was my glass,

An’ anes, to please a bonny lass,

I, like a silly amorous ass,

Drew forth my gully,

An’ thro’ an’ thro’ at the first pass

Ran Mr. Willy.

Sae for this mad though merry fit,

I was sair vex’d, and forc’d to flit,

They plagu’d me sae wi pay and fit.

Quo’ they, You thief,

How durst you try to steal a bit

Forbidden beef?

O then I humbly plead that vos

Would make it your continual mos,

Wi’ hearts sincere an’ open os,

You’d often pray,

A tali malo libra nos,

O Domine.