Page:Elegy in memory of that valiant champion, Sir R. Grierson, late Laird of Lag, who died Dec. 23d, 1733.pdf/24

24 A legion of my den did lead

Him to my place of residence,

Where still he'll stay, and not go hence:

For purgatory I must tell,

It is the lowest place in hell:

Well plenish'd with the Romish sort,

Where thousands of them do resort.

There many a prince and pope doth dwell,

Fast fetter'd in that lower cell,

And from that place they ne'er win free,

Though greedy priests for gain do lie.

In making ignorants conceive,

They'll bring them from the infernal cave,

Such as do bribe them well with gold

As heaven with pelf were bought and sold.

Sure that is but a vain deceit

Contriv'd by Antichrist of late;

To keep the worshippers of the Whore

Senseless in sin, blind and secure;

And to make priest look fat and fine,

Who nought but carnal things do mind.

For this is what I truly know,

They come not back from whence they go,

They who take their abode with me,

From that place they are never free.

This Lag will know and all the rest,

Who of my lodging are possest.

On earth no more they can serve me,

But still I have their company:

With this I must my grief allay,

So I no more of Lag will say.