Poem by Anonymous

Accounts Balanced

Whilst Zoilus, with canker’d spite,   
	My reputation slays,
The way that I his spleen requite, –
	Is loading him with praise.

How oddly happy is my case,
	’Tis easy to conceive,
Since whatsoever either says,
	No mortal can believe.

1. The Banks o’ Glaizart
2. Fare Ye Weel, My Auld Wife
3. Kitty of Coleraine
4. King Cormac’s Crown
5. Gathering of Atholl

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