Then blesses that immortal day,
The guid frae Egypt cam away,
And left their auld flesh pats a prey

To greedy dogs

Nae langer could the chosen stay
Amang sic rogues.

Triumphant, glorious, Virtue's model,
Wi' ne'er a grumble i' their noddle,
Like Lucky Lot, ne'er cared a boddle
For leaving hame,

Though back she glowered as she did toddle-
Wha could her blame?

Look to the sacrifices made

What flow'ry hopes in dust were laid!
Then laud the game the worthies played,
Baith far and near,

That faith and zeal by them displayed,

True and sincere.

Nae cursed ambition, lust o' gain,
Or selfish motives, haunt their brain !
Sic things their holy hearts disdain,

Their lives can prove,
Which stamp them martyrs o'er again,
For truth and love.

Their Monthly Statements, when I see,
How modestly they urge their plea !

C

O could I half as gratefu' be

For favours past,

Or sae contented as the Free

Frae first to last!

They ken this warld is but a show,
And a' is vanity below;

Its glories fade as melts the snow,
Or flowers that die,

And no worth having weel they know,
They but belie.

A better country they desire,

Like their auld douce and faithfu' Sire,

And joys that never shall expire,

But ever new:

Nae other bliss their bosoms fire

They ken it's true.

But since they've left their wine and oil, Their stainless honour not to soil,

Some think their pat will purely boil

They soon may on ye turn the chase,
And jink ye a'.

For mind the time is comin' roun',

When they wha

grace

the sacred gown,

And wear blessed Freedom's glorious crown,

Shall sing for joy,

And crush a' opposition down,

And foes destroy.

Already Scotia's worth be praised,
Her charity abroad be blazed;
Frae her auld pouch a fund is raised
For biggin' Zion-

Wha soon nae mair will be abased,
Her saunts are crying.

Sae we'll hae routh o' kirks at last,
Frae north to south, frae east to wast;
Nae Cæsar then their zeal will blast

Wi' interdicts—

Nor cursed decrees by hell-hounds pastThey're a' to Styx.

God speed the efforts o' thy ain,
And may their sources never drain,
May ne'er a doubt disturb their brain,
Or fears annoy!

They'll bring their capestane, it is plain,
Soon forth wi' joy.

Lichts o' the warld, but wait a wee,

And meanwhile tak advice frae me,

As e'er ye can

Big their ain kirks, and naething gie-
The safest plan.

Ne'er mind the country's cleishmaclavers,
Nae vile defamatory havers;

Heav'n crown your frugal, wise endeavours
Wi' great success.

The mair ye get, ye rev'rent savers,
Aye gie the less.

Ye little ken what ye may need
Your Maister's noble cause to speed;
Sae mind the clink, tak muckle heed
Aye how ye spend it:

Though foes misca' it holy greed,

Yet I'll defend it.

Heaven speed your fund o' Sustentation! Weel may it work throughout the nation; And may that worthy deputation

To foreign parts,

Plead weel your cause in fine oration,

And move their hearts:

Yea, melt them a' to love and zeal,

By mony a lang and loud appeal,

And toom their pouches for your weal—

And why for not?

Your ain ye emptied like a creel

It's no forgot.

And O ye legates frae above,

Spur weel at hame-your cause is love:
Cry Give, Re-give; ye weel can prove
It's for God's glory!

Though aye the mair they to ye shove,
The better for ye.

Deil ane on earth can say ye nay,
As ye twa millions threw away,
Upon that conscience-trying day,
Ne'er to deplore it,

But gaur them now restore 't, I pray,

Though they should borrow 't.

To hae it back is just and right,
O wha daur say your loss was light?
Then never rest baith day and night,
But urge your claim

Upon the Free wi' a' your might,

And think nae shame.

Lay on your lash, and dinna spare,
They need it a', and muckle mair,
Though sometimes ye cut rather sair,

I maun confess;

But, be

your

actions foul or fair,

Ye ne'er transgress.

Ye godly few, tak nae excuse,

Lest they your mercy should abuse;