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VIII.
Indeed I wad on nae pretence
Wiss to tyne sight o' reverence ;
Sae, if sic fowk be men o' sense,
I ask their pardon, — -
But value not a fool's offence
Ae single fardin.
IX.
Your M. A.s and your L. L. D.s,
That get a vogue and make a fraize,
I dinna liadd them worth three straes,
Wi' a' their fame •
Nor do I envy ony praise
That's gi'en to them.
X.
A frien' like you delights me sair,
An' hits my fancy till a hair,
Sae couthy and sae debonnair,
An' then sae plain •
It does nae need a birn o' lair
To write again.
XI.
Now, honest onkent, fare ye weel,
I guess you be some pawky chiel,
That 's may be been at Allan's skuil
Some orra time,
And seems to understand the tweel
O' rustic rhyme,
i 2

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