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This dune—railed at the erroneous knave
An' caught again the Auld Sark Sleeve.
Ance mair he held it up to view,
An' wakened on the points anew—
Zealous and warmly he extended,
Till the discourse he fully ended:
So when the subject he did leave.
He, lastly-pouched the Auld Sark Sleeve!
Additional Verses.
Tho hin'most prayer an' grace weel said,
He left the kirk an' hameward gade,
To tak a chack an' drap, to tune
His heart for labour afternoon.
His wife that morn stay'd in wi' leave,
So kendna' o' the Auld Sark Sleeve.
But now they, arm in arm, proceeded,
'Mang wheens o' danderin' bodies heeded,
Wha cracked o' faith, election, grace,
An'scrape't an' bowed as they did pass
Some smirk'd at Mess John's queer behave
But nane spak o' the Auld Sark Sleeve.
Again within the rostrum seated,—
The prayer re-con'd, the psalm re-bleated—
He read this text:— "Wash me, and so
I shall be whiter than the snow."
Still clutchin' in his waully neive
The snuffy duddy Auld Sark Sleeve
He preached o' sprinklin' an' o' pourin',
O dippin', serubbin', an' o' scourin',
An' aye the rag, in illustration,
He showed a need a great purgation
