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The Poetry of Robert Burns

Edited by William Ernest Henley and Thomas F. Henderson
  
  

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ON THE LAIRD OF LAGGAN

When Morine, deceas'd, to the Devil went down,
'Twas nothing would serve him but Satan's own crown.
‘Thy fool's head,’ quoth Satan, ‘that crown shall wear never:
I grant thou'rt as wicked, but not quite so clever.’