Yet I am here a chosen sample, I'm here a pillar in thy temple, A guide, a buckler, an example O Lord, thou kens what zeal I bear, When drinkers drink, and swearers swear, And singing there, and dancing here, For I am keepit by thy fear, But yet, O Lord! confess I must, Vile self gets in; But thou remembers we are dust, Defiled in sin. Maybe thou lets this fleshly thorn Beset thy servant e'en and morn, Lest he owre high and proud should turn, 'Cause he's sae gifted: If sae, thy hand maun e'en be borne, Until thou lift it. Lord, bless thy chosen in this place, For here thou hast a chosen race; But God confound their stubborn face. And blast their name, Wha bring thy elders to disgrace, An' public shame. Lord, mind Gawn Hamilton's deserts, He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes, Yet has sae monie takin' arts, Frae God's ain priests the people's hearts He steals awa'. |