Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle Edited by Alexander Rodger |
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OUR KIRK. |
 | Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle |  |
OUR KIRK.
Our kirk, as established by law,
Our kirk, as established by law;
It's braw to belang to a kirk
That's secured by a Parliament wa':
Secured by a Parliament wa',
And built on a parchment rock;
Then how can our kirk ever fa',
When she's law-fenced against ilka shock?
Our kirk, as established by law;
It's braw to belang to a kirk
That's secured by a Parliament wa':
Secured by a Parliament wa',
And built on a parchment rock;
Then how can our kirk ever fa',
When she's law-fenced against ilka shock?
Your heathenish vile Voluntary
On his Rock of Ages may rest;
We found on a different quarry,
Our rock of Endowment's the best:
Our rock of Endowment's the best,
To erect Mammon's altar upon;
'Tis there we have feathered our nest,
And there we'll reign eagle alone.
On his Rock of Ages may rest;
We found on a different quarry,
Our rock of Endowment's the best:
Our rock of Endowment's the best,
To erect Mammon's altar upon;
'Tis there we have feathered our nest,
And there we'll reign eagle alone.
The Catholic leans on St Peter;
The Hindoo in Vishnu puts trust;
The Turk, that vile opium eater,
Pays homage to Mahomet's dust:
Pays homage to Mahomet's dust;
While the Jew for Jerusalem sighs;
But, O, his late Majesty's bust
Upon gold, is the god which we prize.
The Hindoo in Vishnu puts trust;
The Turk, that vile opium eater,
Pays homage to Mahomet's dust:
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While the Jew for Jerusalem sighs;
But, O, his late Majesty's bust
Upon gold, is the god which we prize.
Poh! what were your early Apostles,
Wi' a' their great light from above?
Poor innocent, tractable dociles,
Their labours were labours of love,
Their labours were labours of love:
Our labours are labours of gain,
Our horse-leech's cry is—‘Give, give!’
Yes, give till we cannot retain.
Wi' a' their great light from above?
Poor innocent, tractable dociles,
Their labours were labours of love,
Their labours were labours of love:
Our labours are labours of gain,
Our horse-leech's cry is—‘Give, give!’
Yes, give till we cannot retain.
The poor, how they clamour for bread!
How loud are their sighs and their moans!
But the rogues must have something instead,
So we'll give them a rickle of stones:
Yea, we'll give them a rickle of stones,
In shape of a bonnie bit kirk;
And we'll join in their tears and their groans,
And gull them by each pious quirk.
How loud are their sighs and their moans!
But the rogues must have something instead,
So we'll give them a rickle of stones:
Yea, we'll give them a rickle of stones,
In shape of a bonnie bit kirk;
And we'll join in their tears and their groans,
And gull them by each pious quirk.
Then, O, for some further Endowments,
Our paunches and pouches to cram;
For wanting such earthly bestowments,
Our craft would be not worth a ---;
Our craft would be not worth a ---,
Unless we were handsomely paid.
But hush, never blab, 'tis all sham,
While the State is our bulwark and aid.
Our paunches and pouches to cram;
For wanting such earthly bestowments,
Our craft would be not worth a ---;
Our craft would be not worth a ---,
Unless we were handsomely paid.
But hush, never blab, 'tis all sham,
While the State is our bulwark and aid.
| Stray Leaves from the Portfolios of Alisander the Seer, Andrew Whaup, and Humphrey Henkeckle | |