5
O, had you seen my waefu' plight,
your mirth had been bu sma', man
An' yet a queerer antic sight
I trow ye never saw man
I’ve lived thir fyfty years an' mair,
But solemn y I here declare
I ne er before met loss sae sair
My wig flew aff I tint my staff.
I skailed my snuff I peeled mv loof,
an’ brak my snout an’ a’ man.
Now wad ye profit by my loss?—
then, tak advice frae me. man.
And ne’er let common sense tak wing
on fumes o' barley-bree man;
For drink can heeze a man sae high,
vs mak his head maist touch the sky.
But down he tumbles by-an’-by
wi sic a thud ’mang stanes an mud.
That aft it s gude if dirt and b uid
be a he has to dree, man.
The Doctors.
Be honours which to kings we give
to doctors also paid:
We’re the king’s subjects while we l ve:
the doctors when we re dead.
Though when in health and thoughtless mood
