An’ took a turn o’er Bruntsfield Links,
Aften in Maggy’s, at Hay-jinks,
We guzzl’d scuds,
Till we could scarce, wi’ hale-out drinks
Cast aff our duds.
We drank an’ drew, an’ fill’d again,
O wow! but we were blythe an’ fain:
When ony had their count mistane,
O it was nice,
To hear us a’ cry pick your bane,