Thus do the clergy at your vices bawl,
That with more ease they may engross them all. 
By damning yours, they do their own maintain;
A churchman’s godliness is always gain: 
Hence to their prince they will superior be;
And civil treason grows church loyalty. 
They boast the gift of heaven is in their power;
Well may they give the god, they can devour! 
Still to the sick and dead their claims they lay;
For ’tis on carrion that the vermin prey. 
Nor have they less dominion on our life,
They trot the husband, and they pace the wife. 
Rouse up, you cuckolds of the northern climes,
And learn from Sweden to prevent such crimes. 
Unman the Friar, and leave the holy drone
To hum in his forsaken hive alone;
He’ll work no honey, when his sting is gone. 
Your wives and daughters soon will leave the cells,
When they have lost the sound of Aaron’s bells.

* * * * *

END OF THE SIXTH VOLUME.

Edinburgh,

Printed by J. Ballantyne & Co.