Page:Answer to Andrew Moffat's small poem, on singing church-music.pdf/9

 But time goes on with rapid fligh, The wheel is always moving, And whether morning, noon, or night, Tis ours to be improving. So, Andrew, let the young alane, For while you’re stan’ing ta’king, Ye might been past the next mile stane Had ye been busy wa’king.

For old and young have each their blots, And fau’ts that need detection, And some improve their neighbour’s spots To hide their ain defection. Yet he who most pretends to teach The road that leads to Canaan, Points to a place he ne’er can reach, While like a guide post standing.

Our style in prayer and tunes in praise, Ye say should common be, The man that understands this phrase Is wiser, sir, than me. If this can be a rule complete To either man or woman, Then we may pray upon the street Te practice ance was common;

The Romish priest has here a prop By such absurd debating, Because ’tis common for the Pope To say his prayers in Latin. The thing that’s common now-a-days Was ance a world’s wonder: And singing tunes in solemn praise Was held an arrant blunder.