Page:Humorist.pdf/24

 24 Whan ae black day brought word frae Rab my brither, That Kate was cried, and married on anither !

Tho' a’ my friends, and ilka comrade sweet, At anee, had drapped cauld dead at my feet; Or, tho’ I’d heard the last day’s dreadfu’ ca’, Nae deeper horror o’er my heart cou'd fa’. I curs’d mysel’, I curs’d my luckless fate, And grat—and sabbing cried—O Kate! 0 Kate!

Frae that day forth—I never mair did weel, But drank and ran headformost to the deel. My siller vanish'd ; far frae hame I pin’d ; But Kate forever ran across my mind. In her were a’ my hopes,—these hopes mere vain, And now—I’ll never see her like again.

’Twas his Sir, President, that gart me start, Wi’ meikle grief and sorrow at my heart, To gie my vote, frae sad experience, here That disappointed love is fear to bear Ten thousand times, than loss of world's gear

F I N I S.