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Wi' his hizie tizie, soft and easy,
in spite of a' the crew.
He cut their staunchers wi’ a saw,
and bade them a' adieu.
How could he stand the cruel band;
the Bailies and his foes?
Their bread and water he’s exchang’d
for good old Scotish brase.
They thought they had him firm and fast,
which cheer’d them one and a’;
But how their faple it did hing,
when Duncan wan awa’!
Wi’ his hizie, &c.
Contented he could never be,
their usage was so rude,
It rais’d his spirits all at once,
an’ fir’d his highland blood,
To think that he for fourteen years
was to be sent away;
But by a rope he down did drop,
an’ bade them a good day.
Unsatisfy’d with his hard fate,
he always (illegible text) did maurn;
But now he’s fairly out of this,
I hope he’ll no’er return.