DIRE was the hate at old Harlaw,
That Scot to Scot did carry;
And dire the discord Langside saw
For beauteous, hapless Mary:
But Scot to Scot neer met so hot,
Or were more in fury seen, Sir,
Than twixt Hal and Bob for the famous job,
Who should be the Facultys Dean, Sir.
This Hal for genius, wit and lore,
Among the first was numberd;
But pious Bob, mid learnings store,
Commandment the tenth rememberd:
Yet simple Bob the victory got,
And wan his hearts desire,
Which shews that heaven can boil the pot,
Tho the devil piss in the fire.
Squire Hal, besides, had in this case
Pretensions rather brassy;
For talents, to deserve a place,
Are qualifications saucy.
So their worships of the Faculty,
Quite sick of merits rudeness,
Chose one who should owe it all, dye see,
To their gratis grace and goodness.
As once on Pisgah purgd was the sight
Of a son of Circumcision,
So may be, on this Pisgah height,
Bobs purblind mental vision
Nay, Bobbys mouth may be opened yet,
Till for eloquence you hail him,
And swear that he has the angel met
That met the ass of Balaam.
In your heretic sins may you live and die,
Ye heretic Eight-and-Tairty!
But accept, ye sublime Majority,
My congratulations hearty.
With your honours, as with a certain king,
In your servants this is striking,
The more incapacity they bring,
The more theyre to your liking.