Fye! bring Black Jock, her state physician, [Notes] To see her water! Alas! there's ground for great suspicion She'll ne'er get better. III Enthusiasm's past redemption Gane in a gallopin consumption: Can ever mend her; Her feeble pulse gies strong presumption She'll soon surrender. if empty V 'Tis you an' Taylor are the chief An' twa red peats wad bring relief, at all in confidence should bother For me, my VI skill's but very sma', And, tho' they sud you sair misca', VII sorely strike between whiles; glass makes; author's E'en swinge the dogs, and thresh them sicker! O' something stout! It gars an owthor's pulse beat quicker, An' helps his wit. liquor VIII There's naething like the honest nappy: Whare 'll Or women sonsie, saft, and sappy "Tween morn and morn, As them wha like to taste the drappie pleasant GUID speed and furder to you, Johnie, May ye ne'er want a stoup o' bran'y To clear your head! whole hands cutting; expertly corn cup |