In storms an' tempests raise you up,
Some cock or cat your rage maun stop, must
Or, strange to tell!
The youngest brither ye wad whip
Aff straught to hell. straight
Lang syne, in Eden's bonnie yard, ago, garden
When youthfu' lovers first were pair'd,
And all the soul of love they shar'd,
The raptur'd hour,
Sweet on the fragrant flow'ry swaird, sward