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]