Page:Satan's warehouse door, or, Water Willie's new mode of purifying his hands.pdf/5

 “My worthy friends, ye little think

That this is a’ delusion;

Por, in proportion as ye drink,

Ye’re heapin’ up confusion;

The night, tho’ ye forget your lairds,

Your every Care and sorrow,

Be ye assur’d, for your regards,

They’ll think of you to-morrow.

To part in peace is my advice;

Then cease your botheration,

Or it may cost you yet the price

O’ a sequestration.”

Then steering hame, wi’ something mair

Than some folk reckons plenty,

I look’d on every thing as square,

And sung a sang how dainty.

Wi’ plans in plenty now afloat,

Wi’ mair in prospect rising,

And auld resolves amaist forgot,

I gaed to bed revising.

I clearly saw o’er every ill

That had sae lately grieved,

And wonder’d that my stupid skull

Nae sooner had perceived;