Great Nature, lend an ear while we,

The feathered fowls of air,

From mead and furrow, bush and tree,

From pool and mountain, shore and sea,

With one accord pour forth to thee

Our earnest cry and prayer.

From lime and net, from gin and snare,

And from those vile decoys

That slay their thousands unaware,

We pray thee save us, and declare

Thy wrath against what man soe’er

Such evil means employs.

Chasten, correct and scourge the boys

Who count it nobly done

To turn to grief our marriage joys,

To take our precious eggs for toys,

And bear away with mocking noise

The spoil so foully won.

But most from men that use the gun,

That engine of ill scope,

For refuge unto thee we run;

They march to slay us in the sun,

And through the dark, which others shun,

Their murderous way they grope.

Lastly, we pray thee, on the Pope

Prevail to let us be;

We would not hang him in a rope,

And have as good a right, we hope,

Unstrangled under heaven’s high cope,

To live our lives as he.

—Henry Johnstone.