FRIDAY first's the day appointed
By the Right Worshipful anointed,
To hold our grand procession;
To get a blad o' Johnie's morals,
And taste a swatch o' Manson's barrels
I' the way of our profession.
The Master and the Brotherhood
Would a' be glad to see you;
For me I would be mair than proud
To share the mercies wi' you.
If Death, then, wi' skaith, then,
Some mortal heart is hechtin,
Inform him, and storm him,
That Saturday you'll fecht him.
More verses by Robert Burns
- Song—the Battle Of Sherramuir
- Verses Inscribed Under A Noble Earl's Picture
- Song—the Gallant Weaver
- Ballad On Mr. Heron's Election—no. 3
- Epigrams Against The Earl Of Galloway