| |
| I HOLD it, sir, my bounden duty | |
| To warn you how that Master Tootie, | |
| Alias, Laird M’Gaun, | |
| Was here to hire yon lad away | |
| ’Bout whom ye spak the tither day, | 5 |
| An’ wad hae don’t aff han’; | |
| But lest he learn the callan tricks— | |
| An’ faith I muckle doubt him— | |
| Like scrapin out auld Crummie’s nicks, | |
| An’ tellin lies about them; | 10 |
| As lieve then, I’d have then | |
| Your clerkship he should sair, | |
| If sae be ye may be | |
| Not fitted otherwhere. | |
| |
| Altho’ I say’t, he’s gleg enough, | 15 |
| An’ ’bout a house that’s rude an’ rough, | |
| The boy might learn to swear; | |
| But then, wi’ you, he’ll be sae taught, | |
| An’ get sic fair example straught, | |
| I hae na ony fear. | 20 |
| Ye’ll catechise him, every quirk, | |
| An’ shore him weel wi’ hell; | |
| An’ gar him follow to the kirk— | |
| Aye when ye gang yoursel. | |
| If ye then maun be then | 25 |
| Frae hame this comin’ Friday, | |
| Then please, sir, to lea’e, sir, | |
| The orders wi’ your lady. | |
| |
| My word of honour I hae gi’en, | |
| In Paisley John’s, that night at e’en, | 30 |
| To meet the warld’s worm; | |
| To try to get the twa to gree, | |
| An’ name the airles an’ the fee, | |
| In legal mode an’ form: | |
| I ken he weel a snick can draw, | 35 |
| When simple bodies let him: | |
| An’ if a Devil be at a’, | |
| In faith he’s sure to get him. | |
| To phrase you and praise you,. | |
| Ye ken your Laureat scorns: | 40 |
| The pray’r still you share still | |
| Of grateful MINSTREL BURNS. | |
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