Page:Dominie deposed, with the sequel.pdf/20

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Too aft my thirsty throat to cool, I went to visit the punch bowl, Which makes me now wear reddish wool Instead o’ black ; Or I must foot the cutty stool Wi’ deil a plack.

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

0 but that loving laird Kingswells My blessings flow where his foot swells, Lang life to him whate’er befals, God be his guide, He’s cured a thousand thirsty sauls, An’ mine beside.

0 had I but thae days again, Which I sae freely spent in vain, I’d strive some better for to ken. What future chance Should bla” mo here out o’er the main, An’ sae near France.

But since that ills maun ay befall The chiel that will be prodigal; When wasted to the very spaul He turns his tusk, For want o’ comfort to his saul, On hungry husk.