Page:Scotland's skaith, or, The history o' Will & Jean (2).pdf/11

 (11) Ilka drink deſerves a poſey,

Port maks men rude; civil

maks Britons ſtout and roſy,

mak's ilk wife-a Devil.

Jane, wha lately bare affliction

Wi' fae meek and mild an air,

School'd by Whiſky, learns new tricks foon,

Flyt's, and ſtorms, and rug's Will's hair.

, fae late the tendereſt mither,

Fond o' ilk dear daúted wean!

Now, heart harden'd a' thegither

Skelps them round frae morn till e'en.

wha vogie, loo'd to buſk aye

In her hame ſpun, thrifty wark;

Now fells a' her braw's for whiſkie

To her laſt gown, coat and ſark!

, in mony a ditty

Loudly ſings in whiſkys praiſe,

Sweet his fang—the mair's the pity,

E'er on it he ward ſic lays.

O' a' the ills poor Caledonia

E'er yet pree'd, or e'er will taſte.

Brew'd in Hell's black Pandemonia,

ill will ſkaith her maiſt!

"Wha was ance like

“Wha in neeboring town or farm?

"Beauty's bloom ſhone in his fair face,

“Deadly ſtrength was in his arm