| |
| O THOU, who in the heavens does dwell, | |
| Who, as it pleases best Thysel’, | |
| Sends ane to heaven an’ ten to hell, | |
| A’ for Thy glory, | |
| And no for ony gude or ill | 5 |
| They’ve done afore Thee! | |
| |
| I bless and praise Thy matchless might, | |
| When thousands Thou hast left in night, | |
| That I am here afore Thy sight, | |
| For gifts an’ grace | 10 |
| A burning and a shining light | |
| To a’ this place. | |
| |
| What was I, or my generation, | |
| That I should get sic exaltation, | |
| I wha deserve most just damnation | 15 |
| For broken laws, | |
| Five thousand years ere my creation, | |
| Thro’ Adam’s cause? | |
| |
| When frae my mither’s womb I fell, | |
| Thou might hae plunged me in hell, | 20 |
| To gnash my gums, to weep and wail, | |
| In burnin lakes, | |
| Where damned devils roar and yell, | |
| Chain’d to their stakes. | |
| |
| Yet I am here a chosen sample, | 25 |
| To show thy grace is great and ample; | |
| I’m here a pillar o’ Thy temple, | |
| Strong as a rock, | |
| A guide, a buckler, and example, | |
| To a’ Thy flock. | 30 |
| |
| O L—d, Thou kens what zeal I bear, | |
| When drinkers drink, an’ swearers swear, | |
| An’ singin there, an’ dancin here, | |
| Wi’ great and sma’; | |
| For I am keepit by Thy fear | 35 |
| Free frae them a’. | |
| |
| But yet, O L—d! confess I must, | |
| At times I’m fash’d wi’ fleshly lust: | |
| An’ sometimes, too, in wardly trust, | |
| Vile self gets in: | 40 |
| But Thou remembers we are dust, | |
| Defil’d wi’ sin. | |
| |
| O L—d! yestreen, Thou kens, wi’ Meg— | |
| Thy pardon I sincerely beg, | |
| O! may’t ne’er be a livin plague | 45 |
| To my dishonour, | |
| An’ I’ll ne’er lift a lawless leg | |
| Again upon her. | |
| |
| Besides, I farther maun allow, | |
| Wi’ Leezie’s lass, three times I trow— | 50 |
| But L—d, that Friday I was fou, | |
| When I cam near her; | |
| Or else, Thou kens, Thy servant true | |
| Wad never steer her. | |
| |
| Maybe Thou lets this fleshly thorn | 55 |
| Buffet Thy servant e’en and morn, | |
| Lest he owre proud and high shou’d turn, | |
| That he’s sae gifted: | |
| If sae, Thy han’ maun e’en be borne, | |
| Until Thou lift it. | 60 |
| |
| L—d, bless Thy chosen in this place, | |
| For here Thou hast a chosen race: | |
| But G—d confound their stubborn face, | |
| An’ blast their name, | |
| Wha bring Thy elders to disgrace | 65 |
| An’ public shame. | |
| |
| L—d, mind Gaw’n Hamilton’s deserts; | |
| He drinks, an’ swears, an’ plays at cartes, | |
| Yet has sae mony takin arts, | |
| Wi’ great and sma’, | 70 |
| Frae G—d’s ain priest the people’s hearts | |
| He steals awa. | |
| |
| An’ when we chasten’d him therefor, | |
| Thou kens how he bred sic a splore, | |
| An’ set the warld in a roar | 75 |
| O’ laughing at us;— | |
| Curse Thou his basket and his store, | |
| Kail an’ potatoes. | |
| |
| L—d, hear my earnest cry and pray’r, | |
| Against that Presbyt’ry o’ Ayr; | 80 |
| Thy strong right hand, L—d, make it bare | |
| Upo’ their heads; | |
| L—d visit them, an’ dinna spare, | |
| For their misdeeds. | |
| |
| O L—d, my G—d! that glib-tongu’d Aiken, | 85 |
| My vera heart and flesh are quakin, | |
| To think how we stood sweatin’, shakin, | |
| An’ p—’d wi’ dread, | |
| While he, wi’ hingin lip an’ snakin, | |
| Held up his head. | 90 |
| |
| L—d, in Thy day o’ vengeance try him, | |
| L—d, visit them wha did employ him, | |
| And pass not in Thy mercy by ’em, | |
| Nor hear their pray’r, | |
| But for Thy people’s sake, destroy ’em, | 95 |
| An’ dinna spare. | |
| |
| But, L—d, remember me an’ mine | |
| Wi’ mercies temp’ral an’ divine, | |
| That I for grace an’ gear may shine, | |
| Excell’d by nane, | 100 |
| And a’ the glory shall be thine, | |
| Amen, Amen! | |
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