Borrowed Atoms.

By chancemedley

Marking The Rustic.

"Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great Chieftan o’ the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang’s my arm!"

The Bard, celebrated with a dram of Macallan.

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