Page:Answer to Andrew Moffat's small poem, on singing church-music.pdf/7

 There lasses lilting sweet and shrill, Men singing hoarse and hollow; Some led the airs with art and skill, While some could only follow. That men o’ sense were there ’tis plain, And men o’ judgment shallow, And some had tunes, and some had na Just like the folk o’.

And when that Moses led them through The desert for Canaan, There discontented folks like you, Oft vex’d the holy man. Some wanted flesh, some wanted bread, And something ay was wrang. While others never fash’d their head, But carried on and sang.

When Sisera, as stories tell, Had in a tent conceal’d him, When Heber’s wife took up the malt, And to the pavement nail’d him. Then Barak and Debora soon Sang to the congregation A song, with a repeating tune, For such a great salvation.

Now ye may say they had no tunes, And ye may raise a clanger, And ask, was it St Paul’s, St John Or did they ca’d the Bangor. Or whether sang they fast or slow, However this may be, The Sripture says they sang you know, And that’s enough for me.