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The Complete Works of Robert Burns

XVII.

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THE BOOK-WORMS.

[Burns wrote this reproof in a Shakspeare, which he found splendidly bound and gilt, but unread and worm-eaten, in a noble person’s library.]

Through and through the inspir’d leaves, Ye maggots, make your windings; But oh! respect his lordship’s taste, And spare his golden bindings.

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