The Philosophy Of The Ditch

Aweel, I'm couped. But wha' could tell         The road wad rin sae sair?     I couldna gang yon pace mysel',         An' I winna try nae mair!     There's them wad coonsel me to stan',         But this is what I say:     When Natur's forces fecht wi' man,         Dod, he maun just give way!     If man's nae framed to lift his fit         Agin' a nat'ral law,     I winna' lift my heid, for it         Wad dae nae guid ava'.     Puir worms are we; the poo'pit rings         Ilk Sawbath wi' the same,     Gin airth's the place for sic-like things,         I'm no sae far frae hame!     Yon's guid plain raes'nin'; an' forby,         This pairish has nae sense,     There's mony traiv'lin wad deny         Natur and Providence;     For loud an' bauld the leears wage         On men like me their war,     Elected saints to thole their rage         Is what they're seekin' for.     But tho' a man wha's drink's his tea         Their malice maun despise,     It's no for naething, div ye see,         That I'm sae sweir to rise!