A collection of scots poems on several occasions by the late Mr. Alexander Pennecuik, Gent. And Others |
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The Cameronian Tooth. |
 | A collection of scots poems on several occasions |  |
The Cameronian Tooth.
Papists, ye'er fairly foil'd, think shame and blush,
Your various relics are not worth a rush:
What's Mary's milk, St. Peter's rotten bones,
When in procession born by human drones?
What wonders can they do? confess the truth;
They're nothing to a Cameronian tooth,
Which a grave holy sighing sister wears,
That in the grave lay five and fifty years;
And that was Mrs Mary Crighton,
A Cameronian pious right one.
Imboss'd in gold it dangled at her heart,
Corroborating lungs, and strength'ning every part.
When tooth ach does affect the tender jaws,
It heals all pains, and takes away the cause.
Grand miracle! who can believe 'tis true,
That rotten teeth should cure the teeth that's new?
Fits of the mother it cures, and vapours too,
This wonder-working tooth all things can do.
Prevents abortion when ty'd on the knee,
They wear that tooth where standing t---ce should be.
She shew'd to me a box wherein lay hid,
The pictures of Cargil and Mr Kid;
A splinter of the tree on which they're slain;
A double inch of Major Weir's best cane;
Rathillet's sword beat down to table knife,
Which took at Magus-muir a bishop's life;
The worthy Welch's spectacles, who saw
That windle straws would fight against the law;
The windle straws were stoutest of the two,
They stood their ground, away the prophet flew.
And lists of all the prophets names were seen,
At Pentland-hills, Ard-moss, and Rullen-green.
Your various relics are not worth a rush:
What's Mary's milk, St. Peter's rotten bones,
When in procession born by human drones?
What wonders can they do? confess the truth;
They're nothing to a Cameronian tooth,
Which a grave holy sighing sister wears,
That in the grave lay five and fifty years;
And that was Mrs Mary Crighton,
A Cameronian pious right one.
Imboss'd in gold it dangled at her heart,
Corroborating lungs, and strength'ning every part.
When tooth ach does affect the tender jaws,
It heals all pains, and takes away the cause.
Grand miracle! who can believe 'tis true,
That rotten teeth should cure the teeth that's new?
Fits of the mother it cures, and vapours too,
This wonder-working tooth all things can do.
Prevents abortion when ty'd on the knee,
They wear that tooth where standing t---ce should be.
She shew'd to me a box wherein lay hid,
The pictures of Cargil and Mr Kid;
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A double inch of Major Weir's best cane;
Rathillet's sword beat down to table knife,
Which took at Magus-muir a bishop's life;
The worthy Welch's spectacles, who saw
That windle straws would fight against the law;
The windle straws were stoutest of the two,
They stood their ground, away the prophet flew.
And lists of all the prophets names were seen,
At Pentland-hills, Ard-moss, and Rullen-green.
Don't think, she says, these holy things are fopery,
They're precious antidotes against the power of Popery.
They're precious antidotes against the power of Popery.
| A collection of scots poems on several occasions | |