Page:Beauties of Burn's poems.pdf/133

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When fevers burn, or agues freeze us,
Rheumatics gnaw or cholics squeeze us,
Our neibours sympathize to ease us,
Wi' pitying mean;
But thou—the hell o' a' diseases,
They mock our groan.

O' a' the numerous human dools,
Ill harsts, daft bargains, cutty-stools,
Or worthy friends laid! i' the mools,
Sad sight to see!
The tricks o' knaves, or fash o' fools,
Thou bear'st the great

Whare'er that place be, priests ca' hell,
Whar a' the tones o' mis'ry yell,
And plagues in ranked number tell
In deadly raw,
Thou, Toothach, surely bear'st the bell;
Aboon them a'.

O thou grim mischief-makin chiel,
That gars the chords o' discord squeel,
Till human-kind aft dance a reel
In gore, a shoe-thick,
Gae a' the faes o' Scotland's weel
A towmond's toothack.

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