On a Cebrated Ruling Elder
Here Souter Hood in death does sleep;
To hell 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 bitch
Into thy dark dominion!
On “Wee Johnie”
Whoe’er thou art, O reader, know
That Death has murder’d Johnie;
An’ here his body lies fu’ low;
For saul he ne’er had ony.
For the Author’s Father
[ Later referred to as “Epitaph On My Ever Honoured 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 Robert Aiken, Esq.
Know thou, O stranger to the fame
Of this much lov’d, much honoured name!
(For none that knew him need be told)
A warmer heart death ne’er made cold.
For Gavin Hamilton
The poor man weeps – here Gavin sleeps,
Whom canting wretches blam’d;
But with such as he, where’er he be,
May I be sav’d or damn’d !