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Our vera fauls does harrow*,

Wi' fright that day.

XXII.

A VAST, unbottom'd, boundless pit,
Fill'd fou o' lowin brunftane,

Wha's ragin flame, an' fcorchin heat,

Wad melt the hardest whun-ftane!

The half afleep ftart up wi' fear,
An' think they hear it roarin,

When presently it does appear,

'Twas but fome neebor fnorin

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An' how they crouded to the yill,

When they were a' difmift :

How drink gaed round, in cogs an' caups,
Amang the furms and benches ;

An' cheese an' bread, frae women's laps,

Was dealt about in lunches,

An' dawds that day.

XXIV.

IN comes a gaucie, gafh Guidwife,

An' fits down by the fire,

Syne draws her kebbuck an' her knife,

The laffes they are fhyer.

The auld Guidmen, about the grace,

Frae fide to fide they bother,

Till fome ane by his bonnet lays,

An'

An' gi'es them't like a tether,

XXV.

Fu' lang that day.

WEASUCKS! for him that gets nae lafs,

Or laffes that hae naething!

Sma' need has he to say a grace,
Or melvie his braw claithing!

O Wives be mindfu', ance yourfel
How bonie lads ye wanted,

An' dinna, for a kebbuck-heel,

Let laffes be affronted

On fic a day!

XXVI.

Now Clinkumbell, wi' rattlin tow,

Begins to jow an' croon;

Some

Some fwagger hame, the best they dow,

Some wait the afternoon.

At flaps the billies halt a blink,

Till laffes ftrip their fhoon:

Wi' faith an' hope, an' love and drink,

They're a' in famous tune,

For crack that day.

XXVII.

How monie hearts this day converts

O' Sinners and o' Laffe'!

Their hearts o' ftane gin night are gane,

As faft as ony flesh is.

There's fome are fou o' love divine;

There's fome are fou o' brandy;

An

An' monie jobs that day begin,
May end in Houghmagandie

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