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100 May ruthless bailiffs ne’er be sent, To drive you for a back-gaun rent, But may your time in joy be spent, Without alarm, While rosy health and sweet contest Smile on ilk farm. O that your kye or nowtes may ne’er Be taught Phil’s* cauld poun’ wa’s to fear, But may you have guid country cheer, Wi’ beef and meal, That shall continue thro’ the year, And never fail. *Phil, the St Johnston (Donegal) pound-keeper. May nae curst carlin or fell sprite,60 Wha ride on broom-stick nags by night, By cantrips carry off your right,61 At morn or e’en, And elf-shot stanes your kye ne’er blight, By wounds unseen. But tak’ a kind advice frae me--- O, tipple not the strong maut bree,62 Lest late in Mary’s glen you see Some goblin sprite, Or hear the wailing sad banshee63 Howl thro’ the night: For Joyce and Simpson baith can tell, 60 A witch. 61 Magical spells. 62 Malt/liquor, drink. 63 Irish female spirit.

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