ir'd,
to on sehey noeal,
what wives and wabsters see and feel.
but, hark ye, friend! i charge you strictly,
peruse them, an' return them quickly:
for now i'm grown sae cursed douce
i pray and ponder butt the house;
my shins, my ne, i there sit roastin',
perusing bunyan, brown, an' boston,
till by an' by, if i haud on,
i'll grunt a real gospel-groan:
already i begin to try it,
to cast my e'en up like a pyet,
when by the guumbles o'er
flutt&# an' gasping in her gore:
sae shortly you shall see me bright
Epistle To James Tennant Of Glenconner(2/5)