The following poem was given under the inspiration of Robert Burns, at the close of a lecture on “The Immaculate Conception.”
Guid Friends:
I will na’ weave my rhymes to-night
In winsome measure,
Or strive your fancies to delight
Wi’ songs o’ pleasure;
But gin[6] ye hae na’ heard too much
O’ solemn preachin’,
I’ll gie ye just anither touch
O’ useful teachin’.
But, aiblins,[7] when ye hear my verse,
Ye may be thinkin’
That I hae sunk frae bad to warse,
And still am sinkin’;
But though I seem to fa’ from grace,
In man’s opinion,
Auld Hornie ne’er will see my face
In his dominion.
An unco[8] change will come, ere lang,
O’er all your dreamin’,
And ye shall see that right and wrang
Are much in seemin’.
Man shall na’ langer perjure love,
Nor think it treason
Anent[9] the mighty King above,
To use his reason.
Ay, love and nature, frae the first,
Hae been perverted,
And man, frae Adam, will be cursed,
Till he’s converted:
For Nature will avenge her cause
On ilka[10] creature,
Who will na’ take her, wi’ her laws,
For guide and teacher.
Auld Custom is a sleekit[11] saint,
And sae is Fashion,
And baith will watch till sinners faint,
To lay the lash on;
Men follow them wi’ ane accord,
Led by their noses,
Because they cry, “Thus saith the Lord,
The God o’ Moses.”
The time will come when man will ken
God’s word far better;
He’ll live mair in the spirit then,
Less in the letter;
And that which man ance called impure,
Through partial seein’,
He’ll find for it baith cause and cure,
In his ain bein’.
Man needna’ gae to auld lang syne
For truth to guide him,
For if he seeks, he sure will fin’
Truth close beside him.
Each gowan[12] is ordained o’ grace
To be his teacher,
And ilka toddlin’ weanie’s[13] face
Is text and preacher.
Man was na’ born a child o’ hell
Frae his creation:
The love that made him will itsel’
Be his salvation.
Each child that’s born o’ perfect love
Can be man’s saviour:
Love is his warrant frae above,
For guid behavior.