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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.

　　R.B. Poems and Songs of Robert Burns