When I cam near her,
Or else, Thou kens, thy servant true
Wad never steer her. [meddle with]

May be Thou lets this fleshly thorn
Beset Thy servant e'en and morn
Lest he owre high and proud should turn, [too]
That he's sae gifted;
If sae, Thy hand 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,
And blast their name,
Wha' bring Thy elders to disgrace
An' public shame.

Lord, mind Gau'n Hamilton's deserts,
He drinks, an' swears, an' plays at cartes, [cards]
Yet has sae mony takin' arts
Wi' great an' 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 [raised such a row]
As set the warld in a roar
O' laughin' at us;
Curse thou his basket and his store,