Poems and Songs of Robert Burns. Robert Burns

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       Thy pardon I sincerely beg,

       O! may't ne'er be a livin plague

       To my dishonour,

       An' I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg

       Again upon her.

       Besides, I farther maun allow,

       Wi' Leezie's lass, three times I trow—

       But Lord, that Friday I was fou,

       When I cam near her;

       Or else, Thou kens, Thy servant true

       Wad never steer her.

       Maybe Thou lets this fleshly thorn

       Buffet Thy servant e'en and morn,

       Lest he owre proud and high shou'd turn,

       That he's sae gifted:

       If sae, Thy han' maun e'en be borne,

       Until Thou lift it.

       Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place,

       For here Thou hast a chosen race:

       But God confound their stubborn face,

       An' blast their name,

       Wha bring Thy elders to disgrace

       An' public shame.

       Lord, mind Gaw'n Hamilton's deserts;

       He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes,

       Yet has sae mony takin arts,

       Wi' great and sma',

       Frae God's ain priest the people's hearts

       He steals awa.

       An' when we chasten'd him therefor,

       Thou kens how he bred sic a splore,

       An' set the warld in a roar

       O' laughing at us;—

       Curse Thou his basket and his store,

       Kail an' potatoes.

       Lord, hear my earnest cry and pray'r,

       Against that Presbyt'ry o' Ayr;

       Thy strong right hand, Lord, make it bare

       Upo' their heads;

       Lord visit them, an' dinna spare,

       For their misdeeds.

       O Lord, my God! that glib-tongu'd Aiken,

       My vera heart and flesh are quakin,

       To think how we stood sweatin', shakin,

       An' p-'d wi' dread,

       While he, wi' hingin lip an' snakin,

       Held up his head.

       Lord, in Thy day o' vengeance try him,

       Lord, visit them wha did employ him,

       And pass not in Thy mercy by 'em,

       Nor hear their pray'r,

       But for Thy people's sake, destroy 'em,

       An' dinna spare.

       But, Lord, remember me an' mine

       Wi' mercies temp'ral an' divine,

       That I for grace an' gear may shine,

       Excell'd by nane,

       And a' the glory shall be thine,

       Amen, Amen!