Page:Horse of knowledge and his water box.pdf/2



THE

OUD rages war on ilka han’,

The wheels o’ trade are like to stan’,

For muslin truck there’s nae deman’,

Hame nor abroad,

An' poortith pale pervades the lan’,

Like scourge an’ rod.

The weavers, bearded like he-goats,

Wi’ greasy breeks an’ tawdry coats,

Now carp nae mair ’bout over shots,

Or gang a-billing ;

But jump at west an’ half, twa groats

Aff ev’ry shilling.