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.