The twa best herds in a' the wast, [pastors, west] That e'er ga'e gospel horn a blast [gave] These five an' twenty simmers past-- Oh, dool to tell! [sorrow] Hae had a bitter black out-cast [quarrel] Atween themsel, [Between]
and he ends with the hope that if patronage could be abolished and the lairds forced to give
the brutes the power themsels To chuse their herds,
Then Orthodoxy yet may prance, An' Learning in a woody dance, [gallows] An' that fell cur ca'd 'common-sense,' That bites sae sair, [sorely] Be banish'd o'er the sea to France; Let him bark there.
More light is thrown on Burns's positive attitude in religious matters by his _Epistle to McMath_, a young New Licht minister in Tarbolton. From the evidences of the letters, we are justified in accepting at its face value the profession of reverence for true religion made by Burns in this epistle; his hatred of the sham needs no corroboration.
Enclosing a Copy of _Holy Willie's Prayer_, which he had requested, September 17, 1785
While at the stook the shearers cow'r [shock, reapers] To shun the bitter blaudin' show'r, [driving] Or, in gulravage rinnin', scour; [horseplay running] To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme.
My Musie, tir'd wi' mony a sonnet On gown, an' ban', an' douce black-bonnet, [sedate] Is grown right eerie now she's done it, [scared] Lest they should blame her, An' rouse their holy thunder on it, And anathém her. [curse]
I own 'twas rash, an' rather hardy, That I, a simple country bardie, Shou'd meddle wi' a pack sae sturdy, Wha, if they ken me, Can easy, wi' a single wordie, Lowse hell upon me. [Loose]
But I gae mad at their grimaces, Their sighin', cantin', grace-proud faces, Their three-mile prayers, and half-mile graces, Their raxin' conscience, [elastic] Whase greed, revenge, an' pride disgraces Waur nor their nonsense. [Worse than]
There's Gau'n, misca't waur than a beast, Wha has mair honour in his breast Than mony scores as guid's the priest [good as] Wha sae abus'd him: An' may a bard no crack his jest What way they've used him? [On the fashion]
See him the poor man's friend in need, The gentleman in word an' deed, An' shall his fame an' honour bleed By worthless skellums, [railers] An' not a Muse erect her head To cowe the blellums? [daunt, blusterers]