At times I'm fash'd wi' fleshly lust; troubled
An' sometimes too, in warldly trust,
Vile self gets in;
But Thou remembers we are dust,
Defil'd wi' sin.
O Lord! yestreen, Thou kens, wi' Meg—
Thy pardon I sincerely beg—
O! may't ne'er be a living plague
To my dishonour,
An' I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg