IV.
D’rymple mild, D’rymple mild,
Tho’ your heart’s like a child,
And your life like the new-driven snaw,
Yet that winna save ye,
Old Satan must have ye
For preaching that three’s are an’ twa,
D’rymple mild,
For preaching that three’s are an’ twa.
V.
Calvin’s sons, Calvin’s sons,
Seize your spiritual guns,
Ammunition ye never can need;
Your hearts are the stuff,
Will be powder enough,
And your skulls are a storehouse of lead,
Calvin’s sons,
And your skulls are a storehouse of lead.
VI.
Rumble John, Rumble John,
Mount the steps with a groan,
Cry the book is with heresy cramm’d;
Then lug out your ladle,
Deal brimstone like aidle,
And roar every note o’ the damn’d,
Rumble John,
And roar every note o’ the damn’d.
VII.
Simper James, Simper James,
Leave the fair Killie dames,
There’s a holier chase in your view;
I’ll lay on your head,
That the pack ye’ll soon lead,
For puppies like you there’s but few,
Simper James,
For puppies like you there’s but few.
VIII.
Singet Sawnie, Singet Sawnie,
Are ye herding the penny,
Unconscious what danger awaits?
With a jump, yell, and howl,
Alarm every soul,
For Hannibal’s just at your gates,
Singet Sawnie,
For Hannibal’s just at your gates.