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.