ow thy grace is great and ample;

  i'm here a pillar o' thy temple,

  strong as a rock,

  a guide, a buckler, and example,

  to a' thy flock.

  o lord, thou kens what zeal i bear,

  when drinkers drink, an' swearers swear,

  an' singin there, an' dancin here,

  wi' great and sma';

  for i am keepit by thy fear

  free frae them a'.

  but yet, o lord! confess i must,

  at times i'm fash'd wi' fleshly lust:

  an' sometimes, too, in wardly trust,

  vile self gets in:

  but thou remembers we are dust,

  defil'd wi' sin.

  o lord! yestreen, thou kens, wi' meg—

  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