Tantey Baker

Brave cordial bless thy honest maker 
At Stamford town old tantey baker 
Sells juice o thine woud cure the ague 
A tartan stroke 
A quarts gen manys legs a shaker 
& mine its broke 
Ah that I ha'nt a pen to scrawl 
Like burns's wiskey quill wi all 
Now I ha namd ‘th'hole i'th' wall’ 
Much mores the pity 
Theres none throught stamford but shoud call 
I'bakers gitty

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