I led her out, ’mang snaw and frost,
Wi’ constant assiduity.
But deil ma’ care—the blast gaed by,
And miss’d the auld anatomy—
It just cost me a tooth, forbye
If there’s a sough o’ cholera,
Or typhus, wha sae gleg as she?
She buys up baths, an’ drugs, an’ a’,
In siccan superfluity,