For what? To gie their malice skouth scope
On some puir wight,
An' hunt him down, o'er right an' ruth, against
To ruin straight.
All hail, Religion, maid divine!
Pardon a muse sae mean as mine,
Who in her rough imperfect line
Thus daurs to name thee;
To stigmatize false friends of thine
Can ne'er defame thee.