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I've heard my reverend Graunie say,
Nod to the moon,
Wi' eldritch croon.
When twilight did my Graunie summon,
Wi' eerie drone;
Wi' heavy groan.
Ae dreary, windy, winter night,
Ayont the lough;
Wi' waving sugh.
The cudgel in my nieve did shake,
Amang the springs,
On whistling wings.
Let warlocks grim, an' wither'd hags,
They skim the muirs, an' dizzy crags,
. Wi' wicked speed; And in kirk-yards renew their leagues,
Owre howkit dead.
Thence countra wives, wi' toil an' pain,
s By witching skill; An' dawtit, twal-pint Hawkie's gaen
As yell's the Bill.
Thence mystic knots mak great abuse,
By cantrip wit,
Just at the bit.
When thowes dissolve the snawy hoord,
. By your direction, An' nighted trav'llers are allur'd,
To their destruction.
An' aft your moss-traversing Spunkies
i Delude his eyes, VOL. VI.
Till in some miry slough he sunk is,
Ne’er mair to rise.
When Masons' mystic word an' grip,
Or, strange to tell !
Aff straught to hell!
Lang syne, in Eden's bonie yard,
The raptur'd hour,
In shady bow'r:
Then you, ye auld, snic-drawing dog!
(Black be your fa!) An' gied the infant warld a shog,
'Maist ruin'd a'.
ds, an sproutie Pfer foss
D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz,
'Mang better fo'k, Ano sklented on the man of Uz
Your spitefu' joke?
An' how ye gat him'i' your thrall,
Wi' bitter claw,
; Was warst ava?
But a' your doings to rehearse,
Down to this time,
In prose or rhyme.
An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin,
To your black pit;
An' cheat you yet.
But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben!
Still hae a stake . I'm wae to think upo' yon den,
Ev'n for your sake!
TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY,
Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r,
, Thy slender stem; To spare thee now is past my pow'r,
Thou bonnie gem.
Wi' spreckl'd breast,
The purpling east.
Amid the storm,
Thy tender form. The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield, High shelt'ring woods and wa's maun shield; But thou beneath the random bield
O'clod or stane, Adorns the histie stibble-field,