Page:Satan's warehouse door, or, Water Willie's new mode of purifying his hands.pdf/13

13 Then Satan, bending frae his throne,

Most heartily caress’d him,

And in a sweet paternal tone,

Endearingly address’d him:

Ye’re welcome to your weel won hame.

My true and trusty servant,

For ye were neither lag nor lame

To make yoursel’ deservin’t;

Haud up your face, and look na blate,

Depend I’ll not neglect ye.

Ye’ve gtown sae like myseP o’ late,

I canna but respect ye.

The child o’ self—your patron’s pride,—

The brag o’ my dominions;

For when your interest chang’d its side,

Then chang’d ye your opinions;

For when wi’ Paisley flock ye fed.

Ye bleather’d loud amang them;

But when ye got to yon Green-bead,

Ye turn’d about to bang them!—

Then, nane wi’ greater glee reveal’d

Another’s fau’ts an’ failings,

But ay right prudently conceal’d

Your ain unhallow’d dealings.