Yet has sae mony takin’ airts
Wi’ grit an’ sma’,
I fear least he the people’s hairts
Should steal awa.’
And whan we chasten him therefore,
Thou kens how he breeds sic a splore,
As sets the country in a roar
O’ boist’rous laughin’;
Curse thou his ermine and his fur,
His sneers an’ chaffin’.