This page has been validated.
(14)
Things at length draw near an ending,
Caſh rins out; Jean quite unhappy
Sees that Will is now paſt mending,
Tynes a' heart, and tak's a— drappy.
Ilka drink deſerves a poſey,
Port maks men rude, Claret civil ;
Beer maks Britons ſtout and roſy,
Whiſky maks ilk wife— a Devil.
Jane, wha lately bare affliction
Wi' ſae meek and mild an air,
School'd by Whiſky, learns new tricks ſoon,
Flyts, and ſtorms, and rugs Will's hair.
Jane, ſae late the tendereſt mither,
Fond o' ilk dear dauted wean!
Now, heart hearden'd a'thegither
Skelps them round frae morn till e'en.
Jane wha vogie, loo'd to buſk aye
In her hame ſpun, thrifty wark;
Now ſells a' her braw's for Whiſkie
To her laſt gown, coat and ſark!
