The Epitaph
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 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 sodger art,
that passest 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 sacred ca',
wad life itself resign, man:
thy sympathetic tear maun fa',
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 guid wine 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 dool and sorrow be his lot,
for matthew was a rare man.
but now, his radiant course is run,
for matthew's was a bright one!
his soul was like the glorious sun,
a matchless, heavenly light, man.