ellows breath,
an' ploughmen gather wi' their graith,
o rare! to see thee fizz ah
i' th' luggit caup!
then burnewin es on like death
at every chap.
nae mercy then, for airn or steel;
the brawnie, banie, ploughman chiel,
brings hard owrehip, wi' sturdy wheel,
the strong forehammer,
till blo' studdie ring an reel,
wi' dinsome cmour.
when skirling weanies see the light,
though maks the gossips ctter bright,
how fumblin' cuiffs their dearies slight;
wae worth the name!
nae howdie gets a social night,
Scotch Drink(5/9)