To seek the haund o’ Russia as a freen’
In workin’ oot mankind’s great synthesis....
Melville[12] (a Scot) kent weel hoo Christ’s
Corrupted into creeds malign,
Begotten strife’s pernicious brood
That claims for patron Him Divine.
(The Kirk in Scotland still I cry
Crooks whaur it canna crucify!)
Christ, bleedin’ like the thistle’s roses,
He saw—as I in similar case—