Page:Scotland's skaith, or, The sad effects of drunkenness (2).pdf/10

 10

Rabby Burns, in mony a ditty, Loudly ſings in whisky's praiſe; Sweet his ſang—-the mair's the pity E'er on it he wared ſic lays.

Of a' the ills, poor Caledonia Ever preed or e'er will taſte, Brewed in hell's black Pandemonia, Whisky's ill will skating her maiſt.

See them now! how changed wi drinking! A' their youthful beauty game! Davered, doited, daized, and blinking, Worn to perfect skin and bane!

In the cauld month of November, (Claife, and caſh, and credit out) Cowering owre a dying ember, Wi ilk face as white's a clout!

Bond, and bill, and debts a' ſtoppit, Ilka ſheaf felt 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 taen on to be a ſoffer, She wi weans to beg her bread.