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And yet ye are sae scant o' grace,
As daur to lift your brazen face,"
And offer here to tak' your aith,
Ye never lifted Jeanie's claith;
But though ye should yoursel' manswear
Laird Wilson's sclates can witness bear,
Last Mauchline February Fair,
That Jeanie's masts ye laid them bare,
And ye had furled up her sails,
And was at play at heads and tails.
The Whitefoord Arms, ye'll answer a';
Next, Sandy Dow, ye are indited,
As publicly ye hae been wyted,
For aft clandestinely upwhirlin'
The petticoats o' Maggie Borlan',
And giein' her canister a rattle,
That months hereafter winna settle;
And yet, ye loon, ye still protest
Ye never harried Maggie's nest,
Tho' its weel ken'd that at her gyvil,
Ye've dune what time will soon unravel.
- Ye daur set up.—Eg. Ver.
- And offer for to tak'.—Eg. Ver.
- But though by heaven and hell ye swear.—Eg. Ver.
- Ae e'enin' o' a Mauchline fair.—Eg. Ver.
- They saw them bare.—Eg. Ver.
- For ye had.—Eg. Ver.
- To have, as publicly ye're wyted,
Been clandestinely upward whirlin'.—Eg. Ver.
- That months to come it.—Eg. Ver.
- And yet ye offer your protest.—Eg. Ver.
- Ye hae gi'en mony a kytch and kyvil.—Eg. Ver.
- For clags and clauses there subjoined.—Eg. Ver.
- That on the 4th o' June incomin'.—Eg. Ver.
- Ye answer law.—Eg. Ver.