Can any Man to me unfauld, 

 What is the Feid, 

 To stane me ere I be well Cauld ? 

 A cruel Deed ! 



Now Honesty was ay my Drift, 



An innocent and harmless Shift, 



A Kaill-pot-lid gently to lift, 



Or Amby-Sneck. 



Shame fa the Chafts dare call that Thift 



Quo' bonny Heck. 



So well's I cou'd play Hocus Focus, 

 And of the Servants mack Jodocus, 

 And this I did in very Locus 

 Throw their Neglect. 

 And was not this a Merry Jocus? 

 Quo' bonny Heck. 



But now, good Sirs, this day is lost, 

 The best Dog in the East-Nook Coast, 

 For never ane durst Brag nor Boast 

 Me, for their Neck ; 

 But now I must yield up the Ghost, 

 Quo' bonny Heck. 



And put a period to my Talking, 

 For I'm unto my Exit making : 

 Sirs, ye may a' gae to the Hawking, 

 And there Reflect, 



4i 



