Page:Beauties of Burn's poems.pdf/74

( 74 )

That stipend is a carnal weed
 He taks but for the fashion;
And gie him o'er the flock to fea
 And punish each transgression:
Especial rams that cross the breed,
 Gie them sufficient threshin,
Spare them nae day.

Now auld K——— cock thy tail,
 And toss thy horns fu' canty:
Nae mair thou'lt rout out-owre the dale,
 Because thy pasture's scanty;
For lapfa's large o' gospel-kail
 Shall fill thy crib in plenty,
And runts o' grace, the pick and wale
 No gi'en by way o' dainty,
But ilka day.

Nae mair by Babel's streams we'll weep,
 To think upon our Zion;
And hang our fiddles up to dreep,
 Like baby-clouts a-drying:
Come screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheep
 And o'er the thairms be trying;
Oh rare! to see our elbucks wheep,
 And a' like lamb-tails flyin
Fu' fast this day!

Lang Patronage, wi' rod o' airn,
 Has shor'd the Kirk's undoin,
As lately F-nw-ck, sair forfairn,
 Has proven to its ruin:
Our Patron, honest man! G———,
 He saw mischief was brewin,