the a herds; or, the holy tulyie
an un ournfu&039; tale
“blockheads with rean wicked wits abhor,
but fool with fool is barbaro civil war,”—pope
o a&039; ye pio godly flocks,
weel fed on pastures orthodox,
wha now will keep you frae the fox,
or worryg tykes?
or wha will tent the waifs an&039; crocks,
about the dykes?
the a best herds a&039; the wast,
the e&039;er ga&039;e gospel horn a bst
these five an&039; enty sirs past—
oh, dool to tell!
hae had a bitter bck out-cast
aeen thesel&039;
o, oddie, an, an&039; wordy rsell,
how uld you raise vile a btle;
ye&039;ll see how new-light herds will whistle,
an&039; thk it fe!
the lord&039;s cae ne&039;er gat sic a istle,
s&039; i hae &039;
o, sirs! whae&039;er wad hae expeckit
your duty ye wad sae negleckit,
ye wha were ne&039;er by irds respeckit
to wear the pid;
but by the brutes theselves eleckit,
to be their guide
what flock wi&039; oodie&039;s flock uld rank?—
sae hale and hearty every shank!
nae poin&039;d or arian stank
he let the taste;
frae calv&039;s well, aye clear, drank,—
o, sic a feast!
the thuart, willcat, brock, an&039; tod,
weel kend his voice thro&039; a&039; the wood,
he sll&039;d their ilka hole an&039; road,
baith out an ;
an&039; weel he lik&039;d to shed their bid,
an&039; sell their sk
what herd like rsell tell&039;d his tale;
his voice was heard thro&039; uir and dale,
he kenn&039;d the lord&039;s sheep, ilka tail,
owre a&039; the height;
an&039; saw g they were sick or hale,
at the first sight
he fe a angy sheep uld scrub,
or nobly flg the gospel cb,
and new-light herds uld nicely drub
or pay their sk;
uld shake the o&039;er the burng dub,
or
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