Page:Underwoods, Stevenson, 1887.djvu/160

136 O sir, the gods are kind indeed,

An' hauld ye for an honoured heid,

That for a wee bit clarkit screed

Sae weel reward ye,

An' lend—puir Rabbie bein' deid—

His ghaist to guard ye.

For though, whaure'er yoursel' may be,

We've just to turn an' glisk a wee,

An' Rab at heel we're shüre to see

Wi' gladsome caper:—

The bogle of a bogle, he—

A ghaist o' paper!

And as the auld-farrand hero sees

In Hell a bogle Hercules,

Pit there the lesser deid to please,

While he himsel'

Dwalls wi' the muckle gods at ease

Far raised frae hell: