THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE DITCH
Reading edition
Aweel, I'm couped. But wha' could tell The road wad rin sae sair? I couldna gang yon pace mysel', An' I winna try nae mair!
There's them wad coonsel me to stan', But this is what I say: When Natur's forces fecht wi' man, Dod, he maun just give way!
If man's nae framed to lift his fit Agin' a nat'ral law, I winna' lift my heid, for it Wad dae nae guid ava'.
Puir worms are we; the poo'pit rings Ilk Sawbath wi' the same, Gin airth's the place for sic-like things, I'm no sae far frae hame!
Yon's guid plain raes'nin'; an' forby, This pairish has nae sense, There's mony traiv'lin wad deny Natur and Providence;
For loud an' bauld the leears wage On men like me their war, Elected saints to thole their rage Is what they're seekin' for.
But tho' a man wha's drink's his tea Their malice maun despise, It's no for naething, div ye see, That I'm sae sweir to rise!