An Assembly Poem
This poem refers to the 1874 General Assembly. It was written last century by Mr William Crowe of Wick, and was passed on to us by one of our readers who felt that it had lessons for us today.
Hurrah for the Union! Why stop to split straws?
Drive a carriage and six through each Westminster clause!
Get hymns, get an organ, haste drive home the wedge;
Union is strength, so the proverbs allege.
New lights want chanting to chime with the hymns;
Then, why not have dancing to supple the limbs?
Ha! a sweeping majority overcomes all;
Our gallery youths will respond to the call.
The Psalter, though sacred, inspired, and divine,
Well suited to David, and all David's line,
Yet backsliding leaders are now of belief
These heavenly songs are obscure, and too brief.
American hymns! We’ll begin with a few;
Man's composition must not be termed new
The old-fashioned folks are fast passing away;
O speed their departure, we earnestly pray.
"The hope of the Church" in Divinity Hall
Is wrangling for Union, Professors and all;
Ecumenical councils are now much in vogue;
Calvin, Luther, and Knox are hid in the fog.
What mean those fierce yellings, coarse hissing, and cries?
Minority men are attempting to rise!
Hear how they are hooted, and put to the wall,
Who dare stem the tide in Assembly Hall?
Explain to these youths why the Church is called Free,
And what her creed was in Eighteen Forty-three;
Was the conflict not keen, and lasted ten years?
What, then, were the dangers that caused such fears?
The champions for freedom, who fought in those days,
And marshalled the hosts amid triumph and praise,
Were for valour renowned, and love to the Lord,
With the watchword of Calvin, and Luther's broad sword.
When Moses, the leader, gave up the command,
When the armies of Israel had entered the land,
The Gibeonite scouts were sent out in disguise,
And treated for union, soft, gently, and wise.
Our Schools not a place for religious truth!
Throw open the gates, do not hamper the youth;
Teach dancing and classics; teach Ingram and Gray:
Dispense with the Bible for serving its day.
The dark clouds of winter are cov’ring the sky;
Removing "the landmarks" is the reason why;
Consulting a witch at misty En-dor,
The Ark and the glory departing therefore.
The ranks are fast thinning, the soldiers are few;
Assyrians are many, and spread like the dew;
The bridle and hook, at the word of command,
Can soon turn the aliens out of this land.
Stand fast to your colours near Midian's camp;
Get Gideon’s trumpet, sword, pitcher, and lamp;
Take the waters before them, send word to the North,
The kilt and blue bonnet will soon rally forth.
O Wellwood, dear Wellwood, why drift with the tide?
Nixon's to windward, and on the right side;
Call him, if you please, a bigot, and mad,
Perverter, distorter, and all that is bad.
This Syrian host will yet hear a blast;
Ahithophel’s counsels will fail him at last;
Let Israel trust in the Plant of Renown;
This Midianite camp will yet be cast down
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Any comments or questions please E-Mail me or Rev William Macleod the editor.
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