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178. Impromptu on Carron Iron Works

 WE cam na here to view your warks,
 In hopes to be mair wise,
But only, lest we gang to hell,
 It may be nae surprise:
But when we tirl’d at your door
 Your porter dought na hear us;
Sae may, shou’d we to Hell’s yetts come,
 Your billy Satan sair us!

Poem by Robert Burns
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