Wi' gentles thou erects thy head;
Yet humbly kind, in time o' need,
The poor man's wine,
His wee drap parritch, or his bread,
Thou kitchens fine. makest palatable
Thou art the life o' public haunts;
But thee, what were our fairs and rants? Without, frolics
Ev'n godly meetings o' the saunts, saints
By thee inspir'd,
When gaping they besiege the tents,