THE COUNTERBLAST IRONICAL

It's strange that God should fash to frame

The yearth and lift sae hie,

An’ clean forget to explain the same

To a gentleman like me.

Thae gusty, donnered ither folk,

Their weird they weel may dree;

But why present a pig in a poke

To a gentleman like me?

Thae ither folk their parritch eat

An’ sup their sugared tea;

But the mind is no’ to be wyled wi’ meat

Wi’ a gentleman like me.

Thae ither folk, they court their joes

At gloamin’ on the lea;

But they're made of a commoner clay, I suppose,

Than a gentleman like me.

Thae ither folk, for richt or wrang,

They suffer, bleed, or dee;

But a’ thir things are an emp'y sang

To a gentleman like me.

It's a different thing that I demand,

Tho’ humble as can be —

A statement fair in my Maker's hand

To a gentleman like me:

A clear account writ fair an’ broad,

An’ a plain apologie;

Or the deevil a ceevil word to God

From a gentleman like me.