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Now since I’m aff sae mony a mile, There’s naething got without some toil, I’ll wait; cross fortune yet may smilo, Come want, come wealth, I’ll tak’ a pint in the mean while, To Heilden’s health.

Sae, for a time, friends fare ye weel, My pot companions, true and leel, I wish ye all a merry yule, Much mirth and gleo Nae mair young Jacks into the creel That day for me.

Some other Yule may yet cast up, When we again shall meet, To drown our sorrows in a cup, In case we live to see’t.

ELEGY ON MAGGY JOHNSTON

Who died Anno Domini, 1711

AULD Reeky mourn in sable hue. Let fouth o’ tears dreep like May dew, To bra’ tippeny bid adieu, Which we wi’ greed. Bended as fast as she could brew, But now she’s dead.