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Or to the N-tb-rt-n repair,
Aff hand this day.
M***** and you were just a match,
We never had fic twa drones ;
Auld Hornie did the Laigb Kirk watch,
Just like a winkin baudrons :
Fast, fast, this day,
SEE, fee auld Orthodoxy's faes
She's swingein thro' the city!
Hark, how the nine-tail'd cat she plays !
I vow it's unco pretty:
Grunts out fome Latin ditty ;
And Common Senfe is gaun, she says,
To mak to Jamie Beattie
Her plaint this day.
BUT there's Morality himsel,
Embracing all opinions;
Between his twa companions !
As ane were peelin onions!
And banith'd our dominions,
O HAPPY day! rejoice, rejoice!
Come bouse about the porter !
Morality's demure decoys
Shall here nae mair find quarter :
M********, R*****, are the boys
That Heresy can torture ; They'll gie her on a rape a hoyse,
And cowe our measure shorter
By th' head some day.
COME, bring the tither mutchkin in,
And here's for a conclusion,
To ev'ry New-light* mother's son,
From this time forth, Confufion :
* New-light is a cant phrase in the West of Scotland, for those religious opinions which Dr Taylor of Norwich has de fended to strenuously.
If mair they deave us wi' their din,
Or Patronage intrufion,
To tbe Rev. Mr
—, on bis text, MALACHI, ch. iv. ver. 2. 'And they shall go forth, and 'grow up like CALVES of the stall.'
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.
And should some Patron be so kind,
As bliss you wi' a kirk, ,
Ye're still as great a Stirk.
But, if the Lover's raptur'd hour
Shall ever be your lot,