4
For Lord thou kens how faithfu’ we
Rave night and day about thee;
To insubordinate wretches wha
Hae lang, lang been without thee:
Slaves whether Black or White they be,
Should labour and ne’er doubt thee,
Open thou their een that they may see
This is their bounden duty
To us and thee.
And Lord bind down, wi' the strong hand,
A preachers o’ delusion
Wha do advise a worthless band
To murder and confusion;
Lord bless the Rulers o’ this land,
Wi'plenty and profusion,
That they as monuments may stand
Unstained wae sic pollution
To their last day.
Ay, bliss thou Lord our Bailies braw,
Next to our Heavenly mission,
Wha rigidly dispense the Law,
Send glorious self possession,
That they may tell the mad-caps a’
Their duty is submission,
And if thy will tae starve or fa’
Defending Kirk an’ Session
A' times o’ day.
Fell Superstition what art thou,
Is this thy toleration,
Tae lead frail mankind by the pow,
An' jam the hale creation;
Aft hae we sworn to disallow
Thy curs'd peregrinations,
Nae mair the council waddles doon the street,
In a‘ the pomp o' ignorant conceit,— Burns,
