that still eternal gallop!

wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail,

right on ye scud your sea-way;

but in the teeth o' baith to sail,

it maks a unco lee-way.

see social life and glee sit down,

all joyous and unthinking,

till, quite transmugrified, they're grown

debauchery and drinking:

o would they stay to calculate

th' eternal consequences;

or your more dreaded hell to state,

damnation of expenses!

ye high, exalted, virtuous dames,

tied up in godly laces,

before ye gie poor frailty names,

suppose a change o' cases;

a dear-lov'd lad, convenience snug,

a treach'rous inclination—

but let me whisper i' your lug,

ye're aiblins nae temptation.

then gently scan your brother man,

still gentler sister woman;

tho' they may gang a kennin wrang,

to step aside is human:

one point must still be greatly dark,—

the moving why they do it;

and just as lamely can ye mark,

how far perhaps they rue it.

who made the heart, 'tis he alone

decidedly can try us;

he knows each chord, its various tone,

each spring, its various bias:

then at the balance let's be mute,

we never can adjust it;

what's done we partly maypute,

but know not what's resisted.