witching skill;
An' dawtet, twal-pint Hawkie's gaen
As yell's the bill.

Then mystic knots mak great abuse,
On young guidman, fond, keen, and crouse,
When the best wark-lume i' the house,
By cantrip wit,
Is instant made no worth a louse,
Just at the bit.

When thaws dissolve the snawy hoord,
An' float the jinglin' icy-boord,
Then water-kelpies haunt the foord,
By your direction,
An' 'nighted trav'llers are allured
To their destruction.

An' aft your moss-traversing spunkies
Decoy the wight that late and drunk is;
The bleezin', curst, mischievous monkeys
Delude his eyes,
Till in some miry slough he sunk is,
Ne'er mair to rise.

When masons' mystic word an' grip
In storms an' tempests raise you up,
Some cock or cat your rage maun stop,
Or, strange to tell,
The youngest brother ye wad whip
Aff straught to hell!

Lang syne, in Eden's bonnie yaird,
When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd,
An' a' the soul of love they shared,
The raptured hour,
Sweet on the fragrant flowery swaird
In shady bower!

Then you, ye auld, sneck-drawing dog!
Ye came to Paradise _incog._,
An' played on man a cursed brogue,
(Black be your fa'!)
An' gied the infant world a shog,
'Maist ruined a'.

D'ye mind that day, when in a bizz,
Wi' reekit duds and reestit gizz,
Ye did present your smoutie phiz
'Mang better folk,
An' sklented on the man of Uz
Your spitefu' joke?

An' how ye gat him in your thrall,
An' brak him out o' house an' hall,
While scabs and blotches did him gall
Wi' bitter claw,
An' lowsed his ill-tongued wicked scaw,
Was warst ava?

But a' your doings to rehearse,
Your wily snares an' fechtin' fierce,
Sin' that day Michael did you pierce,
Down to this time,
Wad ding a Lallan tongue, or Erse,
In prose or rhyme.

An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin'
A certain Bardie's rantin', drinkin',
Some luckless hour will send him linkin'
To your black pit;
But faith, he'll turn a