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216

THE CALF

To the Rev. James Steven, on his text, Malachi iv. 2:—
‘And ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall.’

I

Right, sir! your text I'll prove it true,
Tho' heretics may laugh;
For instance, there's yoursel just now,
God knows, an unco calf.

II

And should some patron be so kind
As bless you wi' a kirk,
I doubt na, sir, but then we'll find
You're still as great a stirk.

III

But, if the lover's raptur'd hour
Shall ever be your lot,
Forbid it, every heavenly Power,
You e'er should be a stot!

IV

Tho', when some kind connubial dear
Your but-an'-ben adorns,
The like has been that you may wear
A noble head of horns.
217

V

And, in your lug, most reverend James,
To hear you roar and rowte,
Few men o' sense will doubt your claims
To rank among the nowte.

VI

And when ye're number'd wi' the dead
Below a grassy hillock,
With justice they may mark your head:—
‘Here lies a famous bullock!’
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