’Cause he’s sae gifted;
If sae, thy hand maun e’en be borne,
Until thou lift it.
L—d, bless thy chosen in this place,
For here thou hast a chosen race;
But G—d confound their stubborn face,
And blast their name,
Wha bring thine elders to disgrace,
An’ public shame.
L—d, mind Gawn Hamilton’s deserts,