Copy of a Letter to William, Drumossie, June 10th, 1746. A Poem
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Copy of a Letter to William, Drumossie,
June 10th, 1746. A Poem
Forbes
Copy of a Letter to William, Drumossie June 10th, 1746 a poem
Paton
Letter to William in verse
Pages
Forbes
Vol. 4, 846—850Paton
Vol. 2, 66—69Credits
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Correspondence
sent
| Person | |
| Date | 10 Jun 1746 |
| Place | Drumossie |
| Place |
received
| Person | William |
| Date | |
| Place |
acknowledgements
compliments to
enclosed in
enclosures
requests
remediation
in Forbes
Transcription
Copy of a Letter
to William.
William, to thee this Letter comes,
Read, impious Man, &and say,
Don’t thy foul Doings rack thy Breast,
And tear thy Rest away?
All Ages yet to come will curse,
Tyrant, thy hated Name.
Rome had some HerosHeroes such as you;
Like theirs shall live thy Fame.
Didst thou not, base &and Nero-like,
Laugh o’erover the bloody Scene?
How coulds't thou, with a savage Joy,
Behold the Pris’nersPrisoners slain?
Thus, Vulturine, thou gav’stgavest the Word,
“Raze, raze, root out, destroy,
“No Pity show to either Sex,
“Kill Man, Maid, Wife &and Boy;
“Make Bay’netsBayonets wean yethe sucking Child.
(“Who dares controulcontrol my Will?)
“Go, burn, spoil, waste &and kill.
“Break down their Altars, slay yrtheir Priests,
“To eternize my Name.
“Let those in Child-bed laid be burntburned,
“And ravish’dravished ev’ryevery Dame.”
Obsequious bow’dbowed the Minion Pair;1
Crowds crowded to obey,
And some ‘gainstagainst Conscience madly Strove,
And sinn’dsinned as fast as they.
The Hills, the Heaths, yethe Woods were scour’dscoured
Swept were the Glens below.
The Paths they took, they mark’dmarked wtwith Blood,
And march’dmarched in Clouds of Woe.
Shrieks piteous, Desolation spread.
Those, that escap’descaped the Sword,
Mothers &and Babes hid beneath Straw,
Were by fierce fire devour’ddevoured.
Horror of Horrors! the poor Maids,
(O vile detested Scene)
To shun what’s worse than thousand Deaths,
Rush’dRushed ‘midstamidst the crackling Flame.
The frighted Young, that, screaming, stray’dstrayed
To Mountain, Moss, or Wood,
Starving, droptdropped down, &and Death’s cold Sleep
Gave them a restful Bed.
Those, whom great Weight of Years had bow’dbowed,
Gray Hairs to Holes retir’dretired,
Wtwith uplift Hands &and Eyes to Heav’nHeaven
Just groan’dgroaned, &and then expir’dexpired.
What Eyes so dry, ytthat would not weep,
Amidst these various Woes?
What Breast so steel’dsteeled, that cou’dcould approve
Of such unsparing Foes?
A Cannibal could well approve,
Or he, whose harden’dhardened Heart
Drove Wretches on (his Will yrtheir Law)
To act the killing Part.
Proud Boaster, think of Babel’s King;2
Repent, ere ‘tis too late,
Lest thou, like him, be made to roam,
Or meet severer Fate.
If with a Curse thou shalt be sent
To feed ‘mongstamongst Hoof &and Horn,
No Herd, no Flock will take Thee in,
But drive thee off with Scorn.
Bereft of Owner’s Care, these Flocks
Now stray from Hill to Glen,
And mourn, but want yethe Tongue of Man.
To speak their Loss &and Pain.
Their Lords, alas! no more are seen,
No Pastor them to guide;
The one Half’s banish’dbanished far away,
The other Half lie dead.
In Field of Battle those that fell,
(Men for ^fair Fame renown’drenowned)
To witness ‘gainstagainst thee, there their Bones
Lie still above the Ground.
Forbid was Sepulture to them,
Who stood for the just Cause,
For King, for Country, all that’s dear,
For Liberty, for Laws.
Remember, William, thou must die;
Dread what may be thy Doom,
When God shall make these dry Bones live,
And cover’dcovered be with Skin.
View, cruel Savage, view thy Guilt,
Read what’s decreed by Heav’nHeaven,
"To those, that will no Mercy show,
"No Mercy will be giv’ngiven."3
JudgmentJudgement belongs to God alone,
Nor is it Man’s to say,
Where, how, or when ‘tis fit for God
With Vengeance to repay.
Base William, Victor thou!
Albion’s
850
(850)
Albion’s true Sons to quit yethe Field!
It kept by William’s Crew!
Is Mystery all! &and what the Cause
Lies hid from human Ken;
Perhaps, the darken’ddarkened Why may clear,
Charles, at thy Return.
Weak Mortals do in vain attempt
The Ways of Heav’nHeaven to scan;
Our twilight Reason sees small Part
Of the Almighty’s Plan.
Who knows, but Heav’nHeaven has will’dwilled it thus,
The Blood, by ill Men spiltspilled,
Shall heal those Sores, for qchwhich it stream’d,streamed,
And wash away our Weight.
Copy
Citation
Forbes, Robert. “Copy of a Letter to William, Drumossie June 10th, 1746 a poem.” The Lyon in Mourning,
vol. 4,
Adv.MS.32.6.19, fol. 113v–115v. The Lyon in Mourning Project,
edited by Leith Davis, https://lyoninmourning.dhil.lib.sfu.ca/ v04.0846.01.html.
Appendix
I.e., Nimrod.
James 2:13.