screed

"Wi' hat in hand," sweet lass, quo I, / "Wer't in my power to sooth thy sigh, / My hame-bor'd whistle I wad try, / An' gie't a screed, / Atween whar Tiviot murmurs by, / An' bonny Tweed."

Right o'er the ſteep he leans, / When his well-pleniſh'd king-hood voiding needs; / And, ſploiting, ſtrikes the ſtane his grany hit, / Wi' piſtol ſcreed, ſhot frae his gorlin doup.— …