Robert Burns [antikvár]

** DRINK AND THE DEVIL To William Stewart In honest Bacon's ingle-neuk, Here maun I sit and think; Sick o' the warld and warld's fock, And sick, d-mn'd sick o' drink! I see, I see there is nae help, But still down I maun sink; Till somé day, laigh enough, I yelp, 'Wae worth that cursed drink!' Yestreen, alas! I was sae fii', I could but yisk and wink; And now, this day, sair, sair I rue, The weary, weary drink. -