Perhaps it may turn out a sang,

Perhaps turn out a sermon.

Epistle to a Young Friend.

I waive the quantum o' the sin,

The hazard of concealing;

But, och! it hardens a' within,

And petrifies the feeling!

Epistle to a Young Friend.

The fear o' hell 's a hangman's whip

To haud the wretch in order;[448:3]