Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Thou, Simmer, while each corny spear

Shoots up its head, Thy gay, green, flow'ry tresses fhear,

For him that's dead !

[ocr errors]

Thou, Autumn, wi' thy yellow hair,
In grief thy fallow mantle tear !
Thou, Winter, hurling thro' the air

The roaring blast,
Wide o'er the naked world declare

The worth we've lost !

Mourn him thou Sun, great source of light! Mourn, Empress of the filent night! And you, ye twinkling starnies bright,

My Matthew mourn! For through your orbs he's taen his flight,

Ne'er to return.

[ocr errors]

O, H********! the man! the brother! And art thou gone, and gone for ever! And haft thou croft that unknown river,

Life's dreary bound ! Like thee, where shall I find another,

The world around !

Go to your sculptur'd tombs, ye Great, i In a' the tinsel trash o' ftate! But by thy honeft turf I'll wait,

Thou man of worth ! And weep the ae best fellow's fate

E’er lay in earth.

YA

C

THE EPITAPH.

Stop, passenger! my story's brief,

And truth I shall relate, man; I tell nae common tale o' grief.

For Matthew was a great man.

If thou uncommon merit haft,

Yet spurn'd at Fortune's door, man ; A look of pity hither cast,

For Matthew was a poor man.

If thou a noble fodger art,

That passeft by this 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 wha weel had won thy praise,

For Matthew was a bright man.

If thou at Friendship's facred ca'

Wad life itself refign, man ; Thy sympathetic tear maun fa',

For Matthew was a kind man !

If

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.

1 If thou hast wit, and fun and fire,

And ne'er gude wine did fear, man; This was thy billie, dam, and fire,

For Matthew was a queer man.

If ony whiggish whingin sot,

To blame poor Matthew dare, man; May dool and forrow be his lot,

For Matthew was a rare man,

LAMENT

[blocks in formation]

Now Nature hangs her mantle green

On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white

Out o'er the grasly lea:

Vol. II.

M

Now

« AnteriorContinuar »