ye'll catechise him, every quirk,
an' shore him weel wi' hell;
an' gar him follow to the kirk—
aye when ye gang yoursel.
if ye then maun be then
frae hame thisin' friday,
then please, sir, to lea'e, sir,
the orders wi' your lady.
my word of honour i hae gi'en,
in paisley john's, that night at e'en,
to meet the warld's worm;
to try to get the twa to gree,
an' name the airles an' the fee,
in legal mode an' form:
i ken he weel a snick can draw,
when simple bodies let him:
an' if a devil be at a',
in faith he's sure to get him.
to phrase you and praise you,
ye ken your laureat scorns:
the pray'r still you share still
of grateful minstrel burns.