An' some, their new-light fair avow,
Just quite barefac'd,

Nae doubt the auld-light flocks are bleatin';
Their zealous herds are vex'd an' sweatin';
Mysel, I've even seen them greetin'
Wi' girnin' spite,

To hear the moon sae sadly lie'd on
By word an' write.

But shortly they will cowe the louns!
Some auld-light herds in neebor towns
Are mind't, in things they ca' balloons,
To tak' a flight,

An' stay a month amang the moons
An' see them right.

136

Frae ony unregenerate heathen Like you or I.

They filled up a darksome pit
With water to the brim,
They heaved in John Barleycorn,
There let him sink or swim.

X.
They laid him out upon the floor,
To work him farther woe,
And still as signs of life appear'd,
They toss'd him to and fro.

XI.

They wasted o'er a scorching flame,
The marrow of his bones;

+ This is part'y composed on the plan of an old song known by the same name.