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Then Willie, just like ane o’ worth,
Was by a Daemon handed
Ben to the snug and canny birth,
As Satan had commanded;
But gied a squeak, like oney rat,
In horrid desperation,
When seiz’d securly by the Cat,
And kens there's nae salvation.
Now A———w M———tentily,
Was station’d at the key-hole,
And brawly he cou’d hear and see;
For it was not a wee hole.—
Struck with his predecessor’s fate,
Though loudly ca’d to enter,
The first time in his life grew blate,
And laith was he to venture.
He ca’d on Courage to his aid;
But Courage didna hear him:
He ca’d on Hope; but Hope had fled,
And Mercy cou’d na bear him—
What must be must—He ventures ben,
Wi’ heavy heart, an’daunted,
And, looking just as blunt as ane
That had na been acquainted.
