# Lag's elegy, or, The prince of darkness

LAG's
ELEGY,
OR, THE
Prince of Darkneſs’
Lamentation for, and Commendation of his truſty & well-beloved friend,
Sir ROBER GRIERSON, of Lag,
Who Died Dec. 23, 1733·
Very uſeful and necessary to be read by all who desire to be well informed concerning the chief Managers and Management of the late Persecuting period.
THE FOURTEENTH EDITION.
FALKIRK:
printed & sold by t. johnston
1814.
the laird of lag's
CHARACTER & ELEGY.
WHAT fatal news is this I hear! On earth who ſhall my ſtandard bear? For Lag, who was my champion brave, Is dead, and now laid in his grave. The want of him is a great grief; He was my manager and chief, Who fought my kingdom to promove, And to my laws he had great love. Could ſuch a ſurious fiend as I, Shed tears, my cheeks would never dry; But I would mourn both night and day, 'Cauſe Lag from earth is ta'en away. It is no wonder I am ſad, A better friend I never had. Thro' all the large tract of his time, He never did my ways decline: He was my trusty conſtant liege, Who at all times did me oblige, But now, what ſhall I think or ſay? By death at laſt he's ta'en away: He was a man of meikle zeal, Who in my ſervice did not fail: He was no coward, to relent; No man dare ſay he did repent Of the good ſervice done to me; For as he liv'd, ſo ⟨did he⟩ die. He bore my image on his brow, My ſervice he did ſtill avow. ​He had no other Deitie,
But this world, the fleſh, and me;
Unto us he did homage pay,
And did us worſhip every day.
The thing that he delighted in,
Was that which pious folk call ſin,
Adult'ry, whoredom, and ſuch vice;
Such pleaſures were his Paradiſe:
To curſe, to ſwear, and to blaſpheme,
He gloried in, and thought no ſhame.
To exceſs he drank beer and wine,
Till he was drunken like a ſwine.
No Sabbath-day regarded he,
But ſpent it in profanity;
'Mongſt other vices, as ſome ſay,
He raviſh'd virgins on that day!
But that which rais'd his fame ſo high,
Was the good ſervice done to me,
In bearing of a deadly feud
'Gainſt people who did pray and read,
And ſought my kingdom to impair,
These were the folks he did not ſpare,
Any who reads the Scriptures through,
I'm ſure they'll find but very few
Of my beſt friends that's mention'd there,
That could with Grier of Lag compare. Tho' Cain was a bloody man,
He to Lag's latchet never came,
In ſhedding of the blood of thoſe,
Who did my laws and ways oppoſe.
He did reſemble Pharaoh near,
In this, that he ſhook all fear,
Harden'd his heart, would not obey,
But ſought the Iſraelites to ſlay, ​Like Saul, who David did purſue,
He rais'd on them the cry and hue!
And cruelly he did oppreſs
Such as religion did profeſs. Doeg the Edomite did ſlay
Fourſcore and five prieſts in one day!
But if you'll take the will for deed,
Brave Lag did Doeg far exceed.
He of the blood-royal was come,
Of Ahab he was a true son;
For he did ſell himſelf to me,
To work ſin and iniquity. Herod for me had great zeal,
Tho' his main purpoſe far did fail:
He many ſlew by a decree;
But did not toil ſo much for me,
As Lag, who in his perſon went
To every place where he was ſent,
To perſecute both man and wife,
Who he knew led a pious life. Brave Clavers flouriſh'd in his day,
And many lives did take away:
He to Rome's, cause moſt firmly ſtood,
And drunken was with the ſaints' blood,
Which in abundance he did shed,
Of thoſe who from his preſence ſhed,
In moſs and mountain, cleugh and glen,
Were ſlaughter'd by his highland-men.
He was a terror where he came
To all the followers of the Lamb.
With great induſtry and fatigue,
He labour'd to root out that ſeed:
That where he came none might remain,
Who in the leaſt did me defame. ​He rifled houſes, and did plunder,
In moor and dale many a hunder,
He all the ſhires in ſouth and weſt,
With blood and rapine ſore oppreſt.
He to his outmoſt did contrive
How he might make my kingdom thrive,
And how he might bring down all thoſe,
That did my government oppoſe.
His miſchief never proſper'd ill,
Except one time near Lowdon-hill,
Where ſhamefully he did retreat,
Before a few who did him beat,
Till more aſſiſtance I did give,
And then brave Clavers did revive
With fury then and helliſh rage,
He did theſe wanderers engage,
And ſought their utter overthrow,
In every place where he did go.
When they were dead, ſuch was his rage,
Nor leſs his fury could aſſwage,
He rais'd them up, 'bove earth to ly,
As trophies of his victory.
He was made Viſcount of Dundee,
For venturing his all for me.
This honour he enjoy'd not long;
Soon after this he was ta’en home;
By ſudden fate at laſt he fell
At Killicranky, near Dunkel.
No longer could he ſerve me here;
But Lag ſurviv'd for many a vear,
And conſtantly stood to his poſt,
When many a champion brave was loſt. Brave Charles Stewart of renown,
The beſt that ever wore a crown, ​For whoredome and adultery,
For inceſt and profanity,
For falſhood and for treachery
For drunkenness, and for perjury:
He neither word nor oath regarded;
With gibbets he his friends rewarded.
When with oppoſition he did meet,
He then did play the hypocrite,
And feign'd himſelf for reformation,
When he intended deformation,
At Spey and Scoon, within a year,
The covenants he twice did ſwear;
And at Dumfermline did profeſs
His ſorrow for his naughtiness:
But that was all to get the crown,
That he the better might throw down
That covenanted Preſbytery,
That was ſo oppoſite to me;
For afterwards he did reſoind
Theſe covenants no more to bind;
And ſolemnly he gave command
To burn them by the hangman's hand!
He caused the nations to abjure
What they call'd reformation pure.
Brave Prevalecy he did reſtore,
As it in Scotland was before.
And to this Dagon he caus'd bow Scotsmen, contrary to their vow.
He many a conference did defile,
Which made me on his court to ſmile.
Malignants he advanced high,
'Cauſe they good ſubjects were to me.
He tolerated heresy,
All error and profanity. ​A blaſphemous ſupremacy Over the church uſurped he; And granted an indulgency, Thereby to ruin Preſbytery. My ſceptre he did bravely ſway, And puniſh'd thoſe that did gainſay, By tortures that were moſt ſevere, By priſoning and loſs of gear, And cruel murders many a way, Becauſe they from my laws did ſtray But kindneſs he did ever bear To all the Popiſh far and near; No Pope in Rome did ever dwell, That could this noble Prince excel; For in a word he did advance My kingdom more than Rome or France: Neither Spain nor Germany Had ſo much truel zeal for me. He reigned long, but at the laſt, His brother York gave him a caſt, He ⟨poiſon'd⟩ him, and made him die, And ſent him home to my country, To Tophet, that's both wide and large. Which he chus'd for his heritage. Great Middleton, that man of might, My ſervice he did never ſlight: To work he ſuriouſly did go, The Covenants to overthrow : He like Nebuſhtan did them treat, Like almanacks that’s out of date: He did reſcind their force and power, And ſolemnly did them abjure. He nullified all acts and laws That favoured the Scripture cauſe, ​And ruin'd many a family, For nought but none-conformity: Of hirelings they wou'd not hear, Their purſe he puniſh'd moſt ſevere; He made the ſouth of Scotland feel His gripping claws were made of ſteel They were ſo crooked, hard and ſharp, They pierc'd men's ſubſtance to the heart; The king's commission while he did bear, Men loſt their conſcience, life or gear. But Charles too ſoon him diſcarded, Yet I his kindneſs well rewarded; And this I hope he'll not deny, Since now he lives as well as I. Fletcher, my friend, be was the firſt, As advocate who did inſiſt Againſt the Wqigs in the king’s name, To bring them to an open ſhame; Charles, my son, did him inſtall, To bring theſe rebels under thral, Who ſtill for Covenants were pleading. To juſtify their old proceeding: He labour'd very earneſtly To pleaſe his ſovereign and me, By rooting out vile Preſbytery; And planting noble Prelacy; By baniſhing ſome far away. That us'd my dictates to gainſay; By ſumptuous fines making them poor, That never could my yoke endure; By ſhutting up in priſon ſtrong Theſe men who did my intereſt wrong; And thirſting for the blood of them Who did my government contemn: ​His malice was ſo ſet on fire, That nothing could quench his deſire, Until Argyle, mine enemy, Was brought condignly for to die: And Guthrie, who did me oppoſe By hanging he his days did cloſe: And Warriſton, the worſt of all, By my friend Fletcher he did fall: Thus wonderfully he did pleaſe me, When of theſe rebels he did eaſe me; For which good ſervice he doth ſit Among the princes of my pit. And my dear couſin Provoſt Mill, Burnt covenants, yet thought no ill. At Lithgow-croſs, with more diſgrace Than ever was at any place, He burnt Lex Rex and other books Which ſourly on my intereſt looks; And many acts of kirk and ſtate, Which he knew well that I did hate, 'Cauſe they advanc'd a reformation, That ſhook my kingdom thro' the nation. He burnt old brechems, roakes and reels, Alſo the picture of the De'il; I mean myſelf, 'cauſe he did think My effigies would make all ſtink That he burnt on that ſolemn day. Upon the twenty-ninth of May. But my dear couſin was miſta'n, The Covenants remain'd in fame, By ſome that did love them ſo well. That with their blood they did them ſeal ; Yet Provoſt Mill was not to blame, Since he ſo baſely did defame ​All covenants, all acts and laws That favour'd the fanatic cauſe: Himſelf he did to me ſurrender, And for a time liv'd in great ſplendor, Beloved well of all my friends, Till at the laſt he loſt his means, And fell in want and poverty, Which made him to the Abbey fly: He who the Covenants did burn, A cheating bankrupt did become; He loſt his ſenſes, turn'd demented, And none but me his caſe lamented; And at the end of all did die, Bemoaned by no man but me: I did him viſit in diſtreſs, Where he is now you’ll eas'ly gueſs. Turner did Galloway invade, And took from many what they had; He ſpared neither old nor young, But plunder'd all where he did come: Moſt ſavagely he did them treat, And without mercy ſome did beat. He ſpoil'd that country cruelly, And acted like a man for me. A very helliſh life he led, As in my cave he had been bred: Carſpbairn can well teſtify, The curſing and profanity, The outrages committed there, (The half of which might file the air) By Turner and his company, Which wonderfully pleaſed me. Dalziel, who fought at Pentland-hill, And many of my foes did kill, ​And others priſoners did lead, Who after quarters were hang'd dead, A downright atheiſt he did turn, And ruin'd all where he did come. That wanted the mark of the beaſt, He did not ſpare them in the leaſt, But ſhot one Findlay at a poſt; In ſerving me he made his boaſt. He was ſo valiant in my cauſe, And ſo obedient to my laws, That to commend him there's no need, His works have prais'd him, ſince he's dead. Niſbet of Dirltown in his ſtead, In open courts 'gainſt Whigs did plead:
And to the gallows did purſue The Pentland-men, who did renew The Covenants at Lanerk town, Till they on gibbets were brought down: And by his rigorous purſuing He many other Whigs did ruin. His great exploits pleas'd me ſo well, That I his name cannot conceal, But think fit that his deeds be told, That ſo his name may be enroll'd 'Mongſt other worthies on record, Who ſerv'd me as their ſovereign Lord. McKinzie after did ſucceed, As advocate for me to plead. He turn'd to apoſtacy, And ſpent his time in blaſphemy: He pled that perſons might go free For murder and for ſorcery, But brought them in guilty of treaſon, Who were religious out of ſeaſon; ​By keeping Preſbytery in fame, Which King and Council did diſclaim: Who of their conſcience were ſo tender, Religion they would not ſurrender To pleaſe his Majeſty and Court, And turn as changes came about; To Scripture they ſo firmly ſtood, On them I did ſpue out a flood Of miſchief and calamity, McKinzie acted well for me. Scripture-religion at that time. He made it ſuch a heinous crime, That for it nought could ſatisfy, But guilty perſons they muſt die. He many a ſaint purſu'd to death; He feared neither hell nor wrath. His conſcience was ſo cauteriz'd, He refus'd nothing that I pleas'd: For which he’s had my kindneſs ſtill, Since he his labours did fulfill. Rothes, like a ſow in mire, Who of his whoredom did not tire, But wallow'd in adultery, In curſing and profanity, And did allot the Sabbath-day To ſpend it in his game and play; Perjur'd himſelf in Mitchel's caſe, To bring that rebel to diſgrace. To Popery he was a good friend, To let it up this man was keen. His drunkenneſs I need not name, My friend of this thought never ſhame: He did contrive that rare engine, That did make Hackſton dree great pain; ​To rip his breaſt at my deſire, And burn his beart quick in the fire! Mangled his hands, and took them off, That they might be the people's ſcoff; And afterwards ſtruck off his pow, And ſet it on the Nether-bow! And cut his body all aſunder, And plac'd it for a world's wonder! Thus he ſhook off humanity, For the reſpect he had to me. At laſt in horror he did die, And went to Tophet dolefully. Monmouth did me a noble turn, When he to Bothwel-bridge did come, With armed force, with power and might, He ſtew, and put the Whigs to flight. Altho' it was the Sabbath-day, He would not grant them a delay, But inſtantly did daſh them down, And took them captives to the town : They pris'ners were in the Grey-friars, Until a falſe oath they did ſwear, Or in the dungeons were ſhut cloſe, Where they their lives were like to loſe. Some got the gallows, ſome the ſea, Some hang'd, ſome drown'd, that pleased me. Earlſhal, who ſerv'd me many a year, And for my intereſt did appear, He ſerv'd his 'prenticeſhip below, Then to the mountains he did go, The Cameronians to defeat, People whom I do greatly hate. At Aird's moſs he ſurpriz'd that crew, Cameron their champion he flew, ​Add deſperately cut off his head, Alſo his hands, and made him bleed. Then in great triumph he did go, To Edinburgh with a great ſhow! Much boaſting that he had ſuppreft The Cameronians in the weſt; He did produce the hands and head Of Cameron, whom he killed dead; For which the Council did him pay A large reward without delay; And I myſelf on him did ſmile, For that great action done in Kyle! Becauſe that he avenged me Upon my ſtated enemy. His kindneſs ſhall not be forgot, As long as my furnace is hot. York, who great Charles did ſucceed, He was my conſtant friend indeed; He was bred with me all his days, And never from my laws did ſtray ; For he black Popery did profeſs, In Scotland he ſet up the Maſs: A toleration he did give, That myſtery Babel might revive; He took to him abſolute power, For to advance the Romiſh whore. He ſtripped all the penal laws, Were made for weak'ning of my cauſe; And gave a golden liberty For all forts of idolatry. It criminal was in his day To own the covenanted way; For he intended in a ſhort time, To make Pop'ry thro' Scotland ſhine, ​That from the greateſt to the leaſt, All men might ſerve the Romiſh beaſt. He deeply ſworn was to Rome, To ſeek all Preſbytenans doom, To aboliſh the memory Of all that oppos'd Popery. All Proteſtants he did deſpiſe, And many flew without aſſize. He order'd that they ſhould be ſhot, Where they were found, in every ſpot, By helliſh ſoldiers, my drudges, Whom he empower'd in place of judges, Suſpected persons for to try, And at their pleasure make them die, Without allowing liberty To fit them for eternity! He fram'd all miſchiefs by a law, To make Scotland an aceldama ; Threat'ned to make a hunting field Of Shires that would not fully yield. He all the venom in the pit In face of piety did ſpit. He hated all maliciouſlie, Had any Sovereign but me: Diſdained common honeſty, Lov'd nothing but impiety. He in my ſervice poſted faſt, Until his projects got a blaſt, When Orange did come o'er the ſea, Like a baſe coward he did flee. Then he did abdicate the Crown, And after liv'd a vagabond, Till at St. Germains he did die, And then he did come to me. ​I need not ſpeak of Queenſberry, No man was loyaler than he ; He ſerv'd me well with all his might, Againſt the Whhigs with great despight, While York's commission he did bear, Upon that he was moſt ſevere. By him the Parliaments were led; Saints' blood like water then he ſhed! He confidently did declare, They ſhould not have time to prepare For heaven, because, he ſaid, that hell Was too good a place for Whigs to dwell. By that he acted to his power, Both ſoul and body to devour! Which was the only thing I fought, Altho' to pass it was not brought. Yet thanks be unto Queenſberry, For his good-will in ſerving me. I Milton Maxwell muſt commend, Ten Whigs at once he did condemn. And after that he did devote
Himſelf. my kingdom to promote: McCartny he did apprehend, Brought him to an untimous end. He plagu'd the Preſbyterians ſore, That dwelt on the water of Orr. For Corſacks's house he rifled bare, And neither nurse nor child did ſpare, But thrust them out from house and hold, To hunger them, expos'd to cold; He did leave nothing in that houſe, That was to him of any uſe: The horse, the nolt, the corn, the ſheep, He every thing away did ſweep. ​He rang'd thro' like a greedy thief, Took butter, cheese, mutton and beef; The puddings he did ſcarcely ſpare,
For every thing away he bare: Of cloth and cloaths, ſilver and gold, He took far more than can be told: The blackeſt ſight that country ſaw, Worse than Pate Bailey, or John Faw. All his zeal was mixt with ſelf, He very greedy was of pelf. Yet all he took but ſhort time laſted, The Whigs did ſay that it was blaſted; For all his offspring that remain, Have none of this well-gotten gain. When I perceiv'd that it was gone, I out of pity brought him home. Now, Whigs may ſleep in a ſound ſkin, They'll never get more ſkaith of him. My friends that were of lower note, In juſtice ſhould not be forgot, As Aliſon, who here did dree A hell on earth, for pleaſing me. Bonſhaw, more fierce than I can tell, Who bade ſom efound the Whigs to hell. And my beloved Kennaway, Who plagu'd the hill-men every day. 'Bove twenty journies in one year Without either dread or fear, This varlet willingly did go, To haſten the fanaticks' woe. Straban, Murray and Annandale, Who in my cauſe had great zeal. Drummond, Streton, and bloody Reid, Who ſhot my foes till they were dead. ​Buchan, Inglis, and Weſter-ball, Balfour and others, great and ſmall. Stenhouſe, Maitland, and Bolloch-mill, Colzean and Windram, men of ſkill. Crighton, Lauder, and many moe, Who fought the hill-men's overthrow. Halton, who did himself perjure, To bring Mitchel to an ill hour, Lowrie of Maxwelton also, Unto these wild men was a foe. And ſo was Craick of Stewarton, Bailie, and these gave Smith his doom. And all the Biſhops in the land, Were ready ſtill at my command, My ſtatutes for to execute On all whom I did persecute. Dumbarton, Bruce, and Rob Dalziel, And other worthies I could tell, As Ezekiel Montgomery, The bloodieſt monſter that could be. And that vile wretch call’d Sheriff Hume, That was right worthy of his room. An old tree-legged Duncan Grant, Who of his wickedness did vaunt. Eglinton, Irncaple, and Lord Roſs, Who did the Whigs murder and toss, From ſixty to the Revolution, Imbrew'd their hands in persecution. They murder'd and did ſtigmatize Such as my ſervice did not please. They baniſh'd them to foreign nations, And ſold them to the new Plantations. With rigour great they took their gear, 'Cause they my livery would not wear. ​None forwarder among them all, Than noble Grierson of Lag-hall, Whose worthy actions make him fit In the great chair now to ſit, 'Bove Korab and his company, For all his friendſhip done to me. This honour he doth well deserve, For he unweariedly did ſerve Me, to the utmoſt eʌery way, To keep my kingdom from decay. I muſt remember Biſhop Sharp, For the good ſervice I did get Of him when he was here away. He did the Scottiſh Kirk betray, And all its privileges ſold, For pleasure here, and love of gold. He fill'd the land with perjury, And all ſorts of iniquity; And did the force of Scotland lead To persecute the woman's ſeed, Judas, who did his Maſter fell, And afterwards went down to hell, Had no more mischief in his mind, Than Sharp, this noble friend of mine, A paction paſt 'twixt him and me, That I from ſkaith ſhould keep him free; I gave him Sorcery 'gainſt lead, That ſhooting ſhould not be his dead: And yet this did him not ſecure. He loſt his life on Magus muir. There ſome ſtout-hearted men in Fife, With ſwords of ſteel did take his life; And very justly did him kill, 'Cause he their brethren's blood did ſpill. ​So to this place he did descend. But after him Lag did contend For my kingdom many a day; But now, alas! he's ta'en away. What ſhall I ſay? for time would fail, To tell you of brave Lauderdale; A great apoſtate he did prove, Because, with Balaam he did love The wages of iniquity, To keep him in prosperity; That his beassly belly might Have Epicurian delight; To ſpend his time in carnal pleasure, Which lie eſteem'd above all treasure. He was a member among those Who ſtricteſt models did compose Upon the Preſbyterian ſide, But quickly he from them did ſlide. These Covenants which once he ſwore, Most ſolemnly he did abjure. All tenderneſs he did caſt off; On Scripture he did droll and ſcoff, For Prelate Sharp he thought no ſhame, Above Rabſhakeh to blaspheme. By habit he did curse and ſwear. He harlots' company did bea. He did counsel and aſſist The King, who after blood did thirst; To bring all to a final end, For Covenants that did contend. All public mischiefs in the land, Were done at Lauderdale's command. In Mitchel's case he did perjure Himself, most wrongfully he ſwore; ​For conscience he regarded not, Himſelf he wholly did devote To ſerve King Charles, and myſelf, And to advance his worldly pelf. Perſisting in these courses ſtill, Did grieve and anger one Cargil. So Charles, York, Monmouth, and he, Were all deliver'd o'er to me; Rothes, McKenzie, and Dalziel, Unto my lot each man they fell, A company of as brave men, As ever Minister did ſend By such a sentence unto me. Whom I embrac'd most willingly, Cause formerly I did commend, In many things these worthy men. Now these brave heroes I must leave, And some few instances I'll give Of these brave actions which Lag did. That ought no longer to be hid. In Galloway he was well known, His great exploits in it were ſhown. He was my general in that place; He did the Preſyterians chace: Thro' moss and muir, and many a hag, They were pursu'd by my friend Lag. Saints' monuments that's here and there, If any will to them repair, 'Mongst others there you'll read his name, And know he was a man of fame. On many there he forc'd the Teſt; By perjury them sore opprest: And when he brought them to disgrace, He mocked them unto their face. ​From others he did take their gear; He neither mercy had, nor fear. Yet this did not his wrath allay, For others he did seek to ſlay. Cubine and Gordon, near Hard-hill, He took their life, their blood to spill; And left them hanging en a tree, For disobedience to me. John Bell of Whiteside he did ſlay, And would not give him time to pray; And other four, in that same hour, He ſhot upon Kirkconnel-muir. Mayfield, Clement, and Irlingtown, Macrabet he brought also down; And made them all a sacrifice, His heliiſh fury to appeaſe. Two men in Twingham ſome did find, And with hair-tethers did them bind, Like ſheep for ſlaughter there they lay, George Short, and David Halliday; Till Lag came up, and gave command To kill them quickly out hand. Againſt them he had ſuch deſpite, He would not let them live one night; So in that poſture they were ſhot Moſt cruelly upon the ſpot! Lacblane and Wilson in the ſea He drown'd, 'cauſe they obey'd not me! Tho' they were of the weaker ſex, No favour they of him did get: Unto a ſtake he did them tie, Because they did my laws deny, And cruelly he took the life Both of a young maid and a wife. ​Thus Lag did conquer in the field, Such as to me would no ways yield. When Perſecuting did delay, He ſerv'd me well another way. He ever loyal was and true, And his allegiance did renew; And for my ſake did hatred bear To many a perſon far and near. The Kirk by excommunication, Did baniſh him out of their region, Becauſe he would not ſatisfy Them for his vile adultery: Of this ſentence he was content, He never play'd the penitent; For he no ill in it could ſee, Since they deliver'd him to me; For he knew well that I could thole His vices all, without controul; That he ſhould have both peace and ease, In doing things that I do please. Altho' they frighted him with terror, He was not brought to ſuch an error, As to forſake his former way, Or in the leaſt from me to ſtray. He clave as cloſe unto my law As any man I ever ſaw: In atheism his days did ſpend, Until his time drew near an end; Then, for the faſhion he did ſay, That he was of the Popiſh way, Becauſe a Prieſt made him believe, That he to him would pardon give, And would from Purgatory bring Him to a place where he would ſing: ​But that was but a forged lie, For Lag lives hot and bien with me: It was in ſpite he money gave Unto the Prieſt, that greedy ſlave; For he had neither pith nor power To keep my friend from me an hour; For when I heard that he was dead, A legion of my den did lead Him to my place of reſidence, Where ſtill he'll ſtay, and not go hence; For Purgatory, I muſt tell, It is the loweſt place in hell; And from that place they ne'er win free, Tho' greedy Prieſts for gain do lie, In making ignorants conceive, They'll bring them from the infernal cave, Such as do bribe them well with gold, As heaven with pelf were bought and ſold. Sure that is but a vain deceit, Contriv'd by Antichriſt of late, To keep the worſhippers of the Whore Senſeleſs in ſin, blind and ſecure, And to make Prieſts look fat and fine, Who nought but carnal things do mind. This Lag will know, and all the reſt, Who ot my lodgings are poſſeſt: On earth no more they can ſerve me, But ſtill I have their company; With this I muſt my grief allay, So I no more of Lag will ſay.
FINIS.
Falkirk—T.Johnston, Printer.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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