Who he knew led a pious life.
Brave Clavers flourish’d in his day;
And many lives did take away,
He to Rome’s cause most firmly stood,
And drunken was with the saint’s blood,
Which in abundance he did shed,
Of those who from his presence fled,
In moss and mountain, cleugh and glen,
Were slaughter’d by his Highlandmen.
That where he came none might remain,