in a' the numerous human dools,

ill hairsts, daft bargains, cutty stools,

or worthy frien's rak'd i' the mools,—

sad sight to see!

the tricks o' knaves, or fash o'fools,

thou bear'st the gree!

where'er that ce be priests ca' hell,

where a' the tones o' misery yell,

an' ranked gues their numbers tell,

in dreadfu' raw,

thou, toothache, surely bear'st the bell,

amang them a'!

o thou grim, mischief-making chiel,

that gars the notes o' discord squeel,

till daft mankind aft dance a reel

in gore, a shoe-thick,

gie a' the faes o' scond's weal

a townmond's toothache!