No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n, Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n; But such plain roofs as Piety could raise, And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
God never had a church but there, men say, The devil a chapel hath raised by some wiles, I doubted of this saw, till on a day I westward spied great Edinburgh's Saint Giles.
William Drummond of Hawthornden, Posthumous Poems, A Proverb.