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. 
R.B.