  RECITATIVO. So sung the Bard—and Nansie's waws Shook wi' a thunder of applause Re-echo'd from each mouth! They toom'd They scarcely left to coor their fuds, To quench their lowan drouth. Then owre again, the jovial thrang, The poet did request, To lowse his pack an' wale a sang, A ballad o' the best. He, rising, rejoicing, Between his twa Deborahs, Looks round him, an' found them Impatient for the chorus. |
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