Hear me, ye venerable core, As counsel for poor mortals, That frequent pass douce Wisdom’s door, For glaikit Folly’s portals; I, for their thoughtless careless sakes, Would here propone defences,— Their donsie tricks, their black mistakes, Their failings and mischances. Ye see your state wi’ theirs compar’d, And shudder at the niffer; But cast a moment’s fair regard— What maks the mighty differ? Discount what scant occasion gave That purity ye pride in, And (what’s aft mair than a’ the lave) Your better art o’ hidin’. Think, when your castigated pulse Gies now and then a wallop, What ragings must his veins convulse, That still eternal gallop! Wi’ wind and tide fair i’ your tail, Right on ye scud your sea-way; But in the teeth o’ baith to sail, It maks an unco leeway. See Social life and Glee sit down, All joyous and unthinking, Till, quite transmogrified, they’re grown Debauchery and Drinking: O would they stay to calculate Th’ eternal consequences; Or your more dreaded hell to state, Damnation of expenses! Ye high, exalted, virtuous Dames, Tied up in godly laces, Before ye gie poor Frailty names, Suppose a change o’ cases; A dear lov’d lad, convenience snug, A treacherous inclination— But, let me whisper i’ your lug, Ye’re aiblins nae temptation. Then gently scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman; Tho’ they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human. One point must still be greatly dark, The moving why they do it; And just as lamely can ye mark How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, ’tis He alone Decidedly can try us; He knows each chord, its various tone, Each spring, its various bias. Then at the balance let’s be mute, We never can adjust it; What’s done we partly may compute, But know not what’s resisted. CA’ THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES Hark! the mavis’ e’ening sang, Sounding Clouden’s woods amang; Then a-faulding let us gang, My bonnie dearie. Ca’ the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows, Ca’ them where the burnie rowes, My bonnie dearie. We’ll gae down by Clouden side, Thro’ the hazels, spreading wide, O’er the waves that sweetly glide, To the moon sae clearly. Ca’ the yowes, etc. Yonder’s Clouden’s silent towers, Where at moonshine midnight hours, O’er the dewy bending flowers, Fairies dance sae cheery. Ca’ the yowes, etc.