Page:Scotland's skaith, or, The history o' Will & Jean (1).pdf/16

 In the cauld month o' November (Claiſe, and caſb, and credit out) Cowring owre a dying ember, Wi' ilk face as white's a clout.

Bond and bill, and debts a' ſtoppit, Ilka ſheaf ſelt on the bent; Cattle, beds, and blankets roupit Now to pay the Laird his rent.

No anither night to lodge here! No a friend their cauſe to plead! He ta'en on to be a ſodger, She wi' weans to beg her bread!

O' a' the ills poor Caledonia E'er yet pree'd, or e'er will taſte, Brew'd in Hell's black Pandemonia, WHISKY'S ill will ſkaith her maiſt!