So sung the bard—and Nansie's wa's walls
Shook with a thunder of applause,
Re-echo'd from each mouth;
They toom'd their pocks, an' pawn'd their duds. emptied, pokes, rags
They scarcely left to co'er their fads, cover, tails
To quench their lowin' drouth. flaming
Then owre again the jovial thrang over, crowd
The poet did request
To lowse his pack, an' wale a sang, untie, choose
A ballad o' the best;