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A TALE OF THREE BONNETS.
CANTO 1
BARD
WHEN men of mettle thought it nonsense
To heed that cleping thing ca'd consience,
And by free-thikiing had the knack,
Of jerring every word it spake;
And as a learned authour speaks,.
Employed it as a pair o’ breaks
To hide their lead and nasty sluices,
Whilk eith split down for baith; these uses,
Then ⟨Dunwhistle⟩ worn witih years,
And ⟨sawe⟩ the gate of his forbears,
Command'd his three dons to come,
And wait upon him in his room :
Bas Brisyle steek the door: and syne;
He thus Began———
Dunwhistle———Dear bairns of mine,
quickly man Fuomit to Fate,
And leave you tgree a good estate,
