THE

DOMINIE DEPOSED.

PART I.

Ir this offend when you peruse,
Pray reader let this me excuse,
Myself I only here accuse,

Who am the cause

That e'er you had this piece of news
To split your jaws.

For had I right the gully guided,
And with a wife myself provided,
To keep me frae that, wae betide it!

That's kent to a',

I'd staid at hame, or near beside it,

Now that's awa'.

Be wiser then, and do what's right.
And mind your business with might :
Lest unexpected gloomy night

May you surround,

And mingle a' your pleasures bright,
With grief profound.

And bonny lasses, mind this rhyme,
As true as three and six make nine,
If ye commit, ye ken what crime,
And turn unweel,
Something will wamble in your wame,
Just like an eel.

Some Dominies are so bias'd,

That o'er the dyke themselves they cast;
They drink and rant, and live so fast,

This drives them on

To draw a weapon at the last,

Which sticks Mess John.

Thus going on from day to day,
Neglecting for to watch and pray,
And teach the littleanes A, B, C,

And Pater-noster;

Quite other thoughts our Letter-gae

Begins to foster.

For laying aside both fear and shame,
They slyly venture on that game,
All-fours, I think they call't by name,

Both old and rife,

That in the play Mess John is slain

With his own knife.

It's kend, therefore, I will not strive,
My doughty deeds for to descrive:
A lightsome life still I did prive :

Did never itch,

By out and in-abouts to drive,

For to make rich.

I never laid it up in store
Into a hole behind the door :

A shilling, penny, less or more,

I did it scatter;

It's just now I should drink therefore

Small beer and water.

I never sooner money got,

But all my pouches it would plot,
And scorch them sore, it was so hot,:

Then to get clear

Of it, I swallow'd down my throat,

In ale and beer.

Thus all my failing was my glass;
And once, to please a bonny lass,

I, like a silly amorous ass,

Drew forth my gully,

And thro' and thro', at the first pass,

Ran Master Willy.

So for this mad, tho' merry fit,
I was sore vex'd and forc'd to flit,

They plagued me with pay and sit :

Quoth they, 'You thief,

How durst you try to steal a bit

'Forbidden beef?"

O then I humbly plead ad vos,
Would make it your continual mos,
With hearts sincere, and open os,

You'd often pray,

A tali malo libra nos,

O Domine!

For hark, I'll tell you what they think
Since I left handling pen and ink,

Wae worth that weary sup o' drink

'He lik'd so weel:

'He drank it a', left not a clink

'His throat to sweal.

'He lik'd still sitting on his doup, To view the pint or cutty stoup, And sometimes lasses over-coup

Upo' their keels;

This made my lad at last to loup,

And take his heels.

Then was it not a grand presumption,
To call him Doctor of the function?

He dealt too much in barley unction