y chance will come,
I'll show you play when we turn home.
To see your game was such a treat,
Great was my luck with you to meet;
You are indeed a beauty without paint,
The picture of a drouthy saint.'
And thus he sneered and scoffed and chaffed,
While at my speech he mocked and laughed;
From fearing I began to hate him,
And vow'd I'd do my best to beat him.
But man is frail, and human vows
Aye come to nocht, when they oppose
The powers that rule for good or evil,
And my opponent was the Deevil.
Blind, stupid, and wi' drink demented,
I couldna see nor comprehend it;
But soon, alas! I learned the truth,
Wi' mental pain and muckle ruth.

The moon still shed its blessed light
And calm and lovely was the night.
Oh, Daavid! had you but been there,
Wi' your leemonade and your ginger-beer,
You might have saved me from despair,
And a' the horrors that befell me,
Which, Jockie, I am now to tell ye.
My game, I told you had been good,
Nine holes to play, eight up I stood.
Sick o' the game, and sicker far o' Clootie,
I'd ceased to care about the booty.
I thocht I'd bounce him wi' my swagger,
And get the better o' the beggar.
'Doctor,' says I, 'I've licked you into fits,
Throw up the sponge, play double or quits!'
'What!' shouted he, 'such cheek, you sot,
Dost think me daft, you silly Scot?
That wise old saw hast thou forgot,
"That he who suppers wi' the Deil,
Lang spoon maun hae to sup his kail!"'
Here, Jockie, I my temper lost,
I'd hae my say whate'er the cost.
'D--n you,' says I, 'you ca' yoursel' the Deil,
You are na blate my bonnie chiel.
The Deil's a saunt compared wi' you,
You yelley-livered, bandy-legged Jew;
Quack doctor, purse-proud swaggerin' Jack,
I'faith I'll lay you on your back.'

He listened, looked, and gravely smiled
To hear his Majesty reviled
By simple clay so easily beguiled.
Thoughtful he stood, and stroked his beard,
Then, Presto, vanished--disappeared!

Gone like a flash, I looked and wondered,
And as I gaped and gazed and pondered,
Beneath my feet the ground began to tremble,
With earthquake shock to rock and rumble;
And o'er the scene thick darkness crept,
Deep gloom prevailed, the soft wind slept,
Then lightning flared with vivid sheen,
Blinding and dazzling my bewildered een!
And thunder bellowed forth with awful roar,
Echoing from shore to sea, from sea to shore