ares an' fe fierce,
sin' that day michael did you pierce,
down to this time,
wad ding a ln tounge, 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 bck pit;
but faith! he'll turn a er jinkin,
an' cheat you yet.
but fare-you-weel, auld nickie-ben!
o wad ye tak a thought an' men'!
ye aiblins might—i dinna ken—
stil hae a stake:
i'm wae to think up' yon den,
ev'n for your sake!