Then come to me, Davie, auld days we 'll renew;
We 'll heap the bit-ingle and bouse the auld brew;
We 'll smoke the auld pipe, till we freshen your life,
And send you back young as a boy to your wife.
THE WITCH
Celia, before her mirror bends,
Inquiring how to please her friends.
The mystery is solved apace:
The mirror but reflects her grace.
Her mirror Celia now defies,
She sees herself in all men's eyes.
Celia 's a witch, and hath such arts,
Her image is in all men's hearts.
HUMANITY
A lover left his new-made bride
And shot a dove with her mate at her side.