Nurse heard me, saw the cummer's zeal,
And looked as if diverted weel.
She laughed, amused at the sensation,
But flat refused the explanation,
And chaffed and scoffed in huge derision,
Declaring they had lost their reason.
'You doited women, don't you see
What is so evident,' says she,
'This good-for-nothing drunken wight
Has sat upon his pipe alight,
No doubt the cause of mark and pain.
To me it is as porridge plain.'

'Nurse!' I exclaimed, enraged, indignant,
'Your explanation is repugnant
To reason, sense, and proof, and feelin';
Don't think that with a fool you're dealin',
For though to drink a slave I've been,
I say it, with contrition keen,
I ne'er had horrors, what they ca' D.T.
In Latin tongue, whatever that may be;
You hand your ain, and I keep my opinion,
I ken my failin's, I'm but human.'
('Twas nae use arguing wi' a woman.)

Now Jock my story's told, my yarn is ended,
Some things there be that can't be mended;
As broken hearts, and damaged reputation,
Like club-held gane past reparation,
Beyond the savin' powers o' glue,
New leather face, or nails, or screw.
Not so, thank God, an evil habit,
Heaven spare me that I live to prove it.
I've tottered on destruction's brink,
Have wallowed in the slough o' drink,
Have good despised and lived for evil,
And golfed and bargained wi' the Deevil.
Thank goodness, that's all gone and changed,
By other hands my life's arranged.
I'm like the chield in Bunyan's story,
That pilgrim on his road to glory,
Sair hudden doon wi' muckle sack
Chokefu' o' sins upon his back,
Warstlin' and pechin' on his weary way,
The burden heavier growin' every day.
Heaven heard his prayer, the burden fell,
And rolled behind him to the jaws o' H—l.
Joyous and free, gone all his sadness,
Grateful he sang, and danced in gladness.
I, grim auld pilgrim, in like manner,
Compared wi' him a hardened sinner,
Thro' forty years I've burden borne,
By self despised, of men the scorn.
Now, safe forever from the curse
That starved my body, toomed my purse,
I've anchored in a peacefu' haven,
No more for drink the cruel cravin'.
No more the 'Public' haunts for me,
The drunkard's shout, the maddening glee,
The ribald jokes, and songs, and laughter,
The sickening pangs that follow after.
Gone, gone forever, all the filth and folly,
The aches, the woes, the melancholy;
I've cast the old, put on the new,
Three cheers then for the ribbon blue,
And blessings on Nurse Killiegrew!