EPITAPHS.

ON A CELEBRATED RULING ELDER.

HERE Souter Will in death does sleep;

To h-ll, if he's gane thither,
Satan, gie him thy gear to keep,
He'll haud it weel thegither.

ON A NOISY POLEMIC.

BELOW thir stanes lie Jamie's banes;
O death, it's my opinion,

Thou ne'er took such a bleth'rin b-tch
Into thy dark dominion!

ON WEE JOHNNY.

Hic jacet wee Johnnie.

WHOE'ER thou art, O reader, know,

That death has murder'd Johnnie!
An' here his body lies fu' low-

For saul he ne'er had ony.

L

FOR THE AUTHOR'S FATHER.

O YE, whose cheek the tear of pity stains,
Draw near with pious rev'rence, and attend!
Here lie the loving husband's dear remains,

The tender father, and the gen'rous friend.
The pitying heart that felt for human woe;
The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride;
The friend of man, to vice alone a foe;
"For ev'n his failings lean'd to virtue's side."

FOR R. A. ESQ.

KNOW thou, O stranger to the fame
Of this much lov'd, much honour'd name!
(For none that knew him need be told)
A warmer heart death ne'er made cold.

FOR G. H. ESQ.

THE poor man weeps-here G-
Whom canting wretches blam'd:

But with such as he, where'er he be,
May I be sav'd or d―d!

-n sleeps,

A BARD'S EPITAPH.

Is there a whim-inspired fool,

Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule,
Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool,
Let him draw near;

And owre this grassy heap sing dool,
And drap a tear.

Is there a bard of rustic song,

Who, noteless, steals the crowds among,
That weekly this area throng,

O, pass not by !

But, with a frater-feeling strong,

Here, heave a sigh.

Is there a man, whose judgment clear
Can others teach the course to steer,
Yet runs, himself, life's mad career,
Wild as the wave;

Here pause-and, through the starting tear,
Survey this grave.

The poor inhabitant below

Was quick to learn and wise to know,
And keenly felt the friendly glow

And softer flame,

But thoughtless follies laid him low,
And stain'd his name!

Reader, attend-whether thy soul
Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole,
In low pursuit;

Know, prudent, cautious, self-control

Is wisdom's root.

HEAR, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnny Groat's;

If there's a hole in a' your coats,

I rede you tent it:

A chield's amang you taking notes,

And, faith, he'll prent it.

If in your bounds ye chance to light
Upon a fine, fat, fodgel wight,
O' stature short, but genius bright,

H

K"

That's he, mark weeld £.

And wow! he has an unco sleight
O' cauk and keel.

By some auld, houlet-haunted biggin, T Or kirk deserted by its riggin,

It's ten to ane ye'll find him snug in

Some eldrich part,

Wi' deils, they say, L-d save's! colleaguin
At some black art.-

Ilk ghaist that haunts auld ha' or chamer,

Ye gipsey-gang that deal in glamor,

And you, deep read in hell's black grammar,

Warlocks and witches;

Ye'll quake at his conjuring hammer,

Ye midnight b- -es.

T

It's tauld he was a sodger bred,
And ane wad rather fa'n than fled;
But now he's quat the spurtle blade,
270117/65 And dog-skin wallet,
And ta'en the Antiquarian trade,

He has a fouth o' auld nick-nackets; Rusty airn caps, and jinglin jackets, Wad haud the Lothians three in tackets, A towmont guid;

And parritch-pats, and auld saut-backets, Before the Flood.

Of Eve's first fire he has a cinder;
Auld Tubalcain's fire-shool and fender;
That which distinguished the gender
TO' Balaam's ass;

A broom-stick o' the witch of Endor,
Weel shod wi' brass.

Forbye, he'll shape you aff fu' gleg,
The cut of Adam's philibeg;

The knife that nicket Abel's craig,

He'll prove you fully,

It was a faulding jocteleg,

Or lang-kail gullie.

But wad ye see him in his glee,
For meikle glee and fun has he,

Then set him down, and twa or three

Guid fellows wi' him:

And port, O port! shine thou a wee,

And then ye'll see him!