Miscellanies in prose and verse on several occasions, by Claudero [i.e. James Wilson], son of Nimrod the Mighty Hunter. The Fourth Edition with large Additions |
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A Farewell to the General Assembly.
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 | Miscellanies in prose and verse |  |
A Farewell to the General Assembly.
Ye fleshers, sheathe your reeking knives;
Of GOD's creation spare the lives;
Relent the slaughter you have made,
And mourn a moment o'er the dead!
Of GOD's creation spare the lives;
Relent the slaughter you have made,
And mourn a moment o'er the dead!
Great bulls did roar, with dying groans,
And slaughter'd were for our Mass Johns;
The smaller cattle, calves and lambs,
Were snatched from their mournful dams;
At the Assembly lost their lives,
To stuff the clergy and their wives,
Nor did the grunting nasty sow,
Th'abomination of a Jew,
Escape the lust of this black-band,
Who raise a dearth o'er all the land.
The feather'd tribe, goose, duck, and hen,
Were in infinite numbers slain;
To satisfy their hunger keen,
Such devastation ne'er was seen.
The Forth was plunder'd of its fish,
That they might have a dainty dish;
Salmon, cod, and cabelow,
Into their bellies they did stow;
At oysters too they did not bogle,
Which made them at our ladies ogle,
And carnal weapons keenly ply,
Well cover'd with hypocrisy.
But to their glebes they now are fled,
With their big guts well stuff'd and fed.
Each parish now has got its drone,
To croak, and hum, and howl, and groan,
Except the priest of Durisdeer,
Depos'd for loving carnal cheer,
Tho' all the brethren must confess,
They love it either more or less.
And slaughter'd were for our Mass Johns;
The smaller cattle, calves and lambs,
Were snatched from their mournful dams;
At the Assembly lost their lives,
To stuff the clergy and their wives,
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Th'abomination of a Jew,
Escape the lust of this black-band,
Who raise a dearth o'er all the land.
The feather'd tribe, goose, duck, and hen,
Were in infinite numbers slain;
To satisfy their hunger keen,
Such devastation ne'er was seen.
The Forth was plunder'd of its fish,
That they might have a dainty dish;
Salmon, cod, and cabelow,
Into their bellies they did stow;
At oysters too they did not bogle,
Which made them at our ladies ogle,
And carnal weapons keenly ply,
Well cover'd with hypocrisy.
But to their glebes they now are fled,
With their big guts well stuff'd and fed.
Each parish now has got its drone,
To croak, and hum, and howl, and groan,
Except the priest of Durisdeer,
Depos'd for loving carnal cheer,
Tho' all the brethren must confess,
They love it either more or less.
Now gladness shines in every face,
Since their fat paunches left the place;
We only dread the coming year
Of their assembled bellies here.
Since their fat paunches left the place;
We only dread the coming year
Of their assembled bellies here.
| Miscellanies in prose and verse | |