Hae laid ye low,
An’ stopped ye in your reckless dance
At ae fell blow.
I’m wae to think upon your state,
Headlang ye’ve rushed upon your fate,
An’ tho’ advice I ken ye hate,
Tak thought and mend,
Consider, while it’s no owre late
Your hinner end.
“Midlothian” in Moonshine, July 1885.