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An' now, auld Cloots, I ken ye're thinkin,
To your black pit;
An' cheat you yet.
But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben!
Still hae a stake-
1 Vide Milton, Book VI.
Death and Dying aMords of poor Mailie,
THE AUTHOR'S ONLY PET YOWE.
AN UNCO MOURNFU' TALE.
As Mailie, an' her lambs thegither,
Wi' glowrin een, an' lifted han's,
‘0, thou, whase lamentable face
. Tell him, if e'er again he keep,
1 A neebor herd-callan.
*Tell him, he was a Master kin',
‘0, bid him save their harmless lives,
* An' may they never learn the gates
• My poor toop-lamb, my son an' heir,
An' niest my yowie, silly thing,
• An' now, my bairns, wi' my last breath, I lea'e my blessin wi' you baith: