Page:Rab and Ringan, a tale (3).pdf/7



Friends, for G—dsake! quat your wark,

Think to war a wind sae stark;

Saw-pit stoops, like wands, are shaking,

Every planks and deals 'are quaking;

e tempting Providence, I swear,

aise your graith sae madly here.

now ye’re gone!-Anither blast

that, and a’ your sawing’s past!

e down, ye Sinner! grip the Saw

death, or, troth, ye’ll be awa’.

aa, ye'll saw, thobail and sleet

the owre your breast, and freeze your feet.

how it roars, and cings tho bells;

Carts are tum’ling round themsel’s;

tile and thack, and turf up-whirls;

yon brick lum!—down, down it hurls

wha’s you staggering owre the brae,

ath a lade o’ bottl’d strae;

the he will, poor luckless b—h!

strae and him’s baith in the ditch.