The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson ... for the first time fully collected and compared with the original and early editions ... edited ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart ... with portrait, illustrations, &c |
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ADDRESS TO THE SYNOD OF GLASGOW AND AYR. |
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| III. |
| IV. |
 | The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson |  |
71
ADDRESS TO THE SYNOD OF GLASGOW AND AYR.
Ye very reverend haly dads,
Wha fill the black gown dously,
And deal divinity in blauds,
Amang the vulgar crously;
And when in Synod ye do sit,
There to fill up your station;
Ye fleech the king and Willy Pitt,
And roose the Proclamation
Wi' pith this day.
Wha fill the black gown dously,
And deal divinity in blauds,
Amang the vulgar crously;
72
There to fill up your station;
Ye fleech the king and Willy Pitt,
And roose the Proclamation
Wi' pith this day.
I hae a word or twa to gie,
Ye'll maybe think it's flyting;
Gin ye wad lend your lugs a wee,
Ye'll get it het and piping;
An overture, that ne'er cam' through
Presbyt'ry or Session;
And to your reverences now
It comes without digression
In lumps this day.
Ye'll maybe think it's flyting;
Gin ye wad lend your lugs a wee,
Ye'll get it het and piping;
An overture, that ne'er cam' through
Presbyt'ry or Session;
And to your reverences now
It comes without digression
In lumps this day.
Ye wad do weel to feed your flocks,
And read your buiks mair tenty;
Then ye wad better raise your stocks,
And fill your ha's wi' plenty.
Morality and common sense,
And reason ye should doat on;
For then ye're sure of recompense
Frae ladies and your patron
On sic a day.
And read your buiks mair tenty;
Then ye wad better raise your stocks,
And fill your ha's wi' plenty.
Morality and common sense,
And reason ye should doat on;
For then ye're sure of recompense
Frae ladies and your patron
On sic a day.
Ye think to get your wages up
For sic a lang oration;
But aiblins ye may get the slip—
Ye've cankered half the nation.
Though P---s be a funny soul,
And fu' o' craft and learning;
He'll hardly get a siller bowl
Worth forty shillings sterling,
For thanks yon day.
For sic a lang oration;
But aiblins ye may get the slip—
Ye've cankered half the nation.
Though P---s be a funny soul,
And fu' o' craft and learning;
He'll hardly get a siller bowl
Worth forty shillings sterling,
For thanks yon day.
73
Sic things are but ill taen thir days,
When Liberty's sae raging;
And in her leel and noble cause
Ten thousands are engaging:
The Kirk should a' your time mortgage,
For weel she pays the cost;
And royalty and patronage
Eternally's your toast,
Baith night and day.
When Liberty's sae raging;
And in her leel and noble cause
Ten thousands are engaging:
The Kirk should a' your time mortgage,
For weel she pays the cost;
And royalty and patronage
Eternally's your toast,
Baith night and day.
O Patronage! ye cunning baud,
Ye should be sairly thumpit;
Deil blaw ye south, ye cruel jade,
Ye ne'er-do-weel like strumpet.
For under your infamous wing,
The clergy sits sae paughty;
And slyly hums the foolish king,
Wi' cracks that are fell daughty,
For clink this day.
Ye should be sairly thumpit;
Deil blaw ye south, ye cruel jade,
Ye ne'er-do-weel like strumpet.
For under your infamous wing,
The clergy sits sae paughty;
And slyly hums the foolish king,
Wi' cracks that are fell daughty,
For clink this day.
The ‘Rights of Man’ is now weel kenned,
And read by mony a hunder;
For Tammy Paine the buik has penned,
And lent the Courts a lounder;
It's like a keeking-glass to see
The craft of Kirk and statesmen;
And wi' a bauld and easy glee,
Guid faith the birky beats them
Aff hand this day.
And read by mony a hunder;
For Tammy Paine the buik has penned,
And lent the Courts a lounder;
It's like a keeking-glass to see
The craft of Kirk and statesmen;
And wi' a bauld and easy glee,
Guid faith the birky beats them
Aff hand this day.
Though Geordy be deluded now,
And kens na what's a-doing;
Yet aiblins he may find it true
There is a blast a-brewing.
For British boys are in a fiz,
Their heads like bees are humming;
And for their rights and liberties
They're mad upon reforming
The Court this day.
And kens na what's a-doing;
Yet aiblins he may find it true
There is a blast a-brewing.
74
Their heads like bees are humming;
And for their rights and liberties
They're mad upon reforming
The Court this day.
But gin the proclamation should
Be put in execution,
Then brethren ye may chew your cud,
And fear a revolution.
For fegs ye've led the Kirk a dance,
Her tail is now in danger;
For of the liberties in France
Nae Scotsman is a stranger
At hame this day.
Be put in execution,
Then brethren ye may chew your cud,
And fear a revolution.
For fegs ye've led the Kirk a dance,
Her tail is now in danger;
For of the liberties in France
Nae Scotsman is a stranger
At hame this day.
But deil may care for a' your thanks,
And prayers that did confirm it;
Like Lewis in his royal branks,
The king and you may girn yet.
There's mony a chiel of noble stuff,
'Tween Johnny Groats and Dover,
That starkly may gie him a cuff,
And send him to Hanover,
Wi' speed some day.
And prayers that did confirm it;
Like Lewis in his royal branks,
The king and you may girn yet.
There's mony a chiel of noble stuff,
'Tween Johnny Groats and Dover,
That starkly may gie him a cuff,
And send him to Hanover,
Wi' speed some day.
Ye think yoursels sae safe and snug,
That ne'er a ane dare strike ye;
But for your thanks, I'll lay my lug,
Few patriots will like ye:
The Kirk is now on her last legs,
And to the pot she's tumbling;
And troth my lads ye're aff your eggs,
For a' your gratefu' mumbling,
On sic a day.
That ne'er a ane dare strike ye;
But for your thanks, I'll lay my lug,
Few patriots will like ye:
The Kirk is now on her last legs,
And to the pot she's tumbling;
And troth my lads ye're aff your eggs,
For a' your gratefu' mumbling,
On sic a day.
75
It's true indeed she's lang stood out
Against Dissenting nostrums;
Although she's gotten many a clout
Frae their despis'd rostrums.
The State has long kept at her side,
And firmly did support her;
But Liberty wi' furious tide,
Is like to come athwart her
Pell mell this day.
Against Dissenting nostrums;
Although she's gotten many a clout
Frae their despis'd rostrums.
The State has long kept at her side,
And firmly did support her;
But Liberty wi' furious tide,
Is like to come athwart her
Pell mell this day.
The power of clergy, wylie tykes,
Is unco fast declining;
And courtiers' craft, like snaw aff dykes,
Melts when the sun is shining;
Auld Monarchy, wi' cruel paw,
Her dying pains is gnawing;
While Democracy, trig and braw,
Is through a' Europe crawing
Fu' crouse this day.
Is unco fast declining;
And courtiers' craft, like snaw aff dykes,
Melts when the sun is shining;
Auld Monarchy, wi' cruel paw,
Her dying pains is gnawing;
While Democracy, trig and braw,
Is through a' Europe crawing
Fu' crouse this day.
But lest the Muse exaggerate,
Come, here's for a conclusion,
On every true blue Democrate
I ken ye'll pray confusion.
But frae your dark and deep designs
Fair Liberty will hide us;
Frae Glasgow and frae Ayr divines
We pray good Lord to guide us
On ilka day.
Come, here's for a conclusion,
On every true blue Democrate
I ken ye'll pray confusion.
But frae your dark and deep designs
Fair Liberty will hide us;
Frae Glasgow and frae Ayr divines
We pray good Lord to guide us
On ilka day.
| The poems and literary prose of Alexander Wilson | |