E T A Y F（2 / 2）

y ev&039;ry wile

that&039;s jtified by honour;

not for to hide it a hed,

nor for a tra attendant;

but for the glorio privile

of beg dependent

the fear o&039; hell&039;s a hangan&039;s whip,

to haud the wretch order;

but where ye feel your honour grip,

let that aye be your border;

its slightest touches, stant pae—

debar a&039; side-pretences;

and retely keep its ws,

uncarg nseences

the great creator to revere,

t sure bee the creature;

but still the preachg cant forbear,

and ev&039;n the rigid feature:

yet ne&039;er with wits profane to ran,

be pisance extended;

an atheist-ugh&039;s a poor exchan

for deity offended!

when rantg round pleasure&039;s rg,

religion ay be blded;

or if she gie a rando stg,

it ay be little ded;

but when on life we&039;re tepest driv&039;n—

a nscience but a canker—

a rrespondence fix&039;d wi&039; heav&039;n,

is sure a noble anchor!

adieu, dear, aiable youth!

your heart can ne&039;er be wantg!

ay prudence, fortitude, and truth,

erect your brow undauntg!

ploughan phrase, “god send you speed,”

still daily to grow wiser;

and ay ye better reck the rede,

then ever did th&039; adviser!