Wha's ragin flame, an' scorchin heat, XXIII. "Twad be owre lang a tale to tell, An' how they crowded to the yill, An' cheese an' bread, frae women's laps, An' dawds that day. XXIV. In comes a gaucie, gash guidwife, XXV. Waesucks! for him that gets no lass Sma' need has he to say a grace, XXVI. Now Clinkumbell, wi' rattlin tow, Begins to jow an' croon; Some swagger hame the best they dow, Some wait the afternoon. At slaps the billies halt a blink, Till lasses strip their shoon; Wi' faith an' hope, an' love an' drink, They're a' in famous tune For crack that day. XXVII. How monie heats this day converts, O' sinners and o' lasses! Their hearts o' stane, gin night are gane, As saft as onie flesh is. There's some are fou o' love divine; There's some are fou o' brandy; An' monie jobs that day begin, THE ORDINATION. For sense they little owe to frugal Heav'n- I. KILMARNOCK Wabsters fidge an' claw Swith to the Laigh Kirk, ane an' a', An' there tak up your stations; An' pour divine libations For joy this day. II. Curst Common Sense, that imp o' hell, An' he's the boy will blaud her! An' set the bairns to daud her Wi' dirt this day. • Alluding to a scoffing ballad which was made on the admission of the late reverend and worthy Mr. L. to the Laigh Kirk. III. Mak haste an' turn King David owre, O' double verse come gie us four, This day the Kirk kicks up a stoure, And gloriously she'll whang her IV. Come, let a proper text be read, How graceless Ham* leugh at his Dad, Or Zipporah, the scaulding jade, Was like a bluidy tiger I' the inn that day V. There, try his mettle on the creed, That Stipend is a carnal weed *Genesis, ch. ix. ver. 22. Especial, rams that cross the breed, Gie them sufficient threshin, Spare them nae day. VI. Now auld Kilmarnock, cock thy tail, Shall fill thy crib in plenty, An' runts o' grace the pick and wale But ilka day. VII. Nae mair by Babel's streams we'll weep To think upon our Zion; And hing our fiddlers up to sleep, Like baby-clouts a-dryin. Come, screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheep, And o'er the thairms be tryin; Oh, rare! to see our elbucks wheep, An' a' like lamb-tails flying Fu' fast this day! VIII. Lang patronage, wi' rod o' airn Has shor'd the kirk's undoin, As lately F-nw-ck, sair forfairn, Our Patron, honest man! Glencairn, He saw mischief was brewin; |