r, drank,—
o, sic a feast!
the thummart, willcat, brock, an' tod,
weel kend his voice thro' a' the wood,
he smell'd their ilka hole an' road,
baith out an in;
an' weel he lik'd to shed their bluid,
an' sell their skin.
what herd like russell tell'd his tale;
his voice was heard thro' muir and dale,
he kenn'd the lord's sheep, ilka tail,
owre a' the height;
an' saw gin they were sick or hale,
at the first sight.
he fine a mangy sheep could scrub,
or nobly fling the gospel club,
The Twa Herds; Or, The Holy Tulyie(3/7)