The Ordination. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AA BCBCDCECF GHGHIHIHF HHHHHHHHF JHKHLHLHL LALALALAL ILILILILL MAMAMAMAL AAAAAAAAL HHHHHHHHL NCOCOCOCL CLCLCLCLL ICICICICL CHCHCHCHL AAAAAAAAL

For sense they little owe to frugal heav'nA
To please the mob they hide the little giv'nA
-
-
Kilmarnock wabsters fidge an' clawB
An' pour your creeshie nationsC
An' ye wha leather rax an' drawB
Of a' denominationsC
Swith to the Laigh Kirk ane an' a'D
An' there tak up your stationsC
Then aff to Begbie's in a rawE
An' pour divine libationsC
For joy this dayF
-
Curst Common Sense that imp o' hellG
Cam in wi' Maggie LauderH
But Oliphant aft made her yellG
An' Russell sair misca'd herH
This day Mackinlay taks the flailI
And he's the boy will blaud herH
He'll clap a shangan on her tailI
An' set the bairns to daud herH
Wi' dirt this dayF
-
Mak haste an' turn King David owreH
An' lilt wi' holy clangorH
O' double verse come gie us fourH
An' skirl up the BangorH
This day the Kirk kicks up a stoureH
Nae mair the knaves shall wrang herH
For Heresy is in her pow'rH
And gloriously she'll whang herH
Wi' pith this dayF
-
Come let a proper text be readJ
An' touch it aff wi' vigourH
How graceless Ham leugh at his dadK
Which made Canaan a nigerH
Or Phineas drove the murdering bladeL
Wi' wh re abhorring rigourH
Or Zipporah the scauldin' jadL
Was like a bluidy tigerH
I' th' inn that dayL
-
There try his mettle on the creedL
And bind him down wi' cautionA
That stipend is a carnal weedL
He taks but for the fashionA
And gie him o'er the flock to feedL
And punish each transgressionA
Especial rams that cross the breedL
Gie them sufficient threshin'A
Spare them nae dayL
-
Now auld Kilmarnock cock thy tailI
And toss thy horns fu' cantyL
Nae mair thou'lt rowte out owre the daleI
Because thy pasture's scantyL
For lapfu's large o' gospel kailI
Shall fill thy crib in plentyL
An' runts o' grace the pick and waleI
No gi'en by way o' daintyL
But ilka dayL
-
Nae mair by Babel's streams we'll weepM
To think upon our ZionA
And hing our fiddles up to sleepM
Like baby clouts a dryin'A
Come screw the pegs wi' tunefu' cheepM
And o'er the thairms be tryin'A
Oh rare to see our elbucks wheepM
An' a' like lamb tails flyin'A
Fu' fast this dayL
-
Lang Patronage wi' rod o' airnA
Has shor'd the Kirk's undoin'A
As lately Fenwick sair forfairnA
Has proven to its ruinA
Our patron honest man GlencairnA
He saw mischief was brewin'A
And like a godly elect bairnA
He's wal'd us out a true aneA
And sound this dayL
-
Now Robinson harangue nae mairH
But steek your gab for everH
Or try the wicked town of AyrH
For there they'll think you cleverH
Or nae reflection on your learH
Ye may commence a shaverH
Or to the Netherton repairH
And turn a carpet weaverH
Aff hand this dayL
-
Mutrie and you were just a matchN
We never had sic twa dronesC
Auld Hornie did the Laigh Kirk watchO
Just like a winkin' baudronsC
And ay' he catch'd the tither wretchO
To fry them in his caudronsC
But now his honour maun detachO
Wi' a' his brimstane squadronsC
Fast fast this dayL
-
See see auld Orthodoxy's faesC
She's swingein' through the cityL
Hark how the nine tail'd cat she playsC
I vow it's unco prettyL
There Learning with his Greekish faceC
Grunts out some Latin dittyL
And Common Sense is gaun she saysC
To mak to Jamie BeattieL
Her plaint this dayL
-
But there's Morality himsel'I
Embracing all opinionsC
Hear how he gies the tither yellI
Between his twa companionsC
See how she peels the skin an' fellI
As ane were peelin' onionsC
Now there they're packed aff to hellI
And banished our dominionsC
Henceforth this dayL
-
O happy day rejoice rejoiceC
Come bouse about the porterH
Morality's demure decoysC
Shall here nae mair find quarterH
Mackinlay Russell are the boysC
That Heresy can tortureH
They'll gie her on a rape a hoyseC
And cowe her measure shorterH
By th' head some dayL
-
Come bring the tither mutchkin inA
And here's for a conclusionA
To every New Light mother's sonA
From this time forth ConfusionA
If mair they deave us wi' their dinA
Or Patronage intrusionA
We'll light a spunk and ev'ry skinA
We'll rin them aff in fusionA
Like oil some dayL

Robert Burns



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