The Paxtoniade - 6
With practices, unwarrantable
Did come upon our quiet Borders,
And there commit most desperate murders;
Did tomhawk, butcher, wound and cripple,
With cruel Rage, the Lord’s own People;
Did war most implacable wage
With God’s own chosen heritage:
Did from our Brethren take their lives,
And kill our Children, kine and Wives,
Now, Sirs, I ween it is but right',
That we upon these Cananites,
Without delay should Vengeance take,
Both for our own, and the K------k’s sake:
Should totally destroy the heathen,
And never till we’ve kill’d em leave ’em;—
Destroy them quite frae out the Land;----
And for it we have God’s Command.
We should do him a muckle Pleasure,
As ye in your Books may read at leisure.
HE paus’d—-as Orators are us’d.
And from his pocket quick produc’d,
A friendly Vase well stor’d and fill’d
With good old wisky twice distill’d,
And having refresh’d his inward man,
Went on with his harranque again.
“Ist not, my Brethern, a pretty Story
That we who are the Land’s chief Glory,
Who are i’ the number of God’s elected;
Should slighted thus be and neglected?
That we, who’re the only Gospel Church,
Should thus be left here in the lurch:
Whilst our most antichristian foes
Whose trade is war and hardy blows,
