The Epitaph

“Stop, passenger! my story’s brief,
And truth I shall relate, man;
I tell naecommon tale o’ grief,
For Matthew was a great man.

If thou uncommon merit hast,
Yet spurn’d at Fortune’s door, man;
A look of pity hither cast,
For Matthew was a poor man.

If thou a noble sodgerart,
That passest bythis grave, man;
There moulders here a gallant heart,
For Matthew was a brave man.

If thou on men, their works and ways,
Canst throw uncommon light, man;
Here lies whaweelhad wonthy praise,
For Matthew was a bright man.

If thou, at Friendship’s sacred ca’,
Wadlife itself resign, man:
Thy sympathetic tear maunfa’,
For Matthew was a kind man.

If thou art staunch, without a stain,
Like the unchanging blue, man;
This was a kinsman o’thy ain,
For Matthew was a true man.

If thou hast wit, and fun, and fire,
And ne’er guidwine did fear, man;
This was thy billie, dam, and sire,
For Matthew was a queer man.

If ony whiggish, whingin’ sot,
To blame poor Matthew dare, man;
May dooland sorrow be his lot,
For Matthew was a rare man.

Butnow, his radiant course is run,
For Matthew’s was a bright one!
His soul was like the glorious sun,
A matchless, Heavenly light, man.”

By |2018-11-12T18:27:39+00:00November 12th, 2018|1790, Epitaph, Robert Burns Poems, Type, Year|

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