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Lines Written On A Banknote

     Wae worth thy power, thou cursed leaf!
     Fell source o' a' my woe and grief!
     For lack o' thee I've lost my lass!
     For lack o' thee I scrimp my glass!
     I see the children of affliction
     Unaided, through thy curst restriction:
     I've seen the oppressor's cruel smile
     Amid his hapless victim's spoil;
     And for thy potence vainly wished,
     To crush the villain in the dust:
     For lack o' thee, I leave this much-lov'd shore,
     Never, perhaps, to greet old Scotland more.