I LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend, Tho' it fhould ferve nae other end Than just a kind memento; But But how the fubject theme may gang, Perhaps, it may turn out a Sang; II. Ye'll try the world foon, my lad, And muckle they may grieve ye: And a' your views may come to nought, III. I'll no fay, men are villains a' ; The real, harden'd wicked, D 2 Wha 52 Wha hae nae check but human law, Are to a few reftricked: But Och, mankind are unco weak, An' little to be trufted; If Self the wavering balance shake, IV. Yet they wha fa' in Fortune's ftrife, A man may hae an honeft heart, A man may tak a neebor's part, Yet hae nae cash to spare him. V. Ay free, aff han', your ftory tell, When wi' a bofom crony ; But But ftill keep fomething to yoursel Conceal yourfel as weel's ye can But keek thro' ev'ry other man, VI. The facred lowe o' weel-plac'd love, Luxuriantly indulge it ; But never tempt th' illicit rove, Tho' naething should divulge it : I wave the quantum of the fin, But Och! it hardens a' within, VII. To catch Dame Fortune's golden fmile, Affiduous wait upon her; 54 And gather gear by ev'ry wile But for the glorious privilege VIII. The fear o' Hell's a hangman's whip, Debar a' fide pretences; Uncaring confequences. IX. The great Creator to revere, Muft fure become the creature; But |